Idly, Henry wondered if he'd ever get used to hearing that; it felt like an unlikely proposition. It still gets a laugh, if a shallow, breathless one, nuzzling at the corner of his mouth. "Love you too," is the eventual reply, and it feels just as unusual to say it, as it was to hear it.

It was also unlikely to not respond to all of that closeness and contact, but he's likewise reluctant to push forward, just enjoying the sensation, the reassurance of that mutual interest.