It's not that K doesn't feel cold; he does. He has before, of course, in a time and place far from this one and yet far too recently to not think of the last time he stood in snow and ached for someone else.
But his hand over Vrenille's is warm, and though he mostly holds compliantly still - mostly lets the other man do whatever he's going to do, exactly as he's going to do it - he's more than content to thread their fingers together just the same. Careful, so careful, and grateful too when he helps reel the other in as he comes.
"I can do that," he agrees, low, shifting ever so slightly to block the slight wind a bit better. He can do that, can be present, can be here, can make it so Vrenille is not alone with this just here, just now. They still have a ways to go with rebuilding all the bridges between them, but there's more than enough for this.
He does not rush him but stands, one arm lifting around him, fingertips brushing slowly, lightly along his back. And when he speaks again, K simply agrees.
"Of course." They can go inside, and have a drink or two or ten, and K will stay here. K will be here, will be himself.
And, because he does have a small inkling of how much it means to Vrenille - because he can search his eyes, his face, and fill out that answer with what he can read as easily as text - he offers, first, a kiss at least twice as sweet as it is tentative.
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But his hand over Vrenille's is warm, and though he mostly holds compliantly still - mostly lets the other man do whatever he's going to do, exactly as he's going to do it - he's more than content to thread their fingers together just the same. Careful, so careful, and grateful too when he helps reel the other in as he comes.
"I can do that," he agrees, low, shifting ever so slightly to block the slight wind a bit better. He can do that, can be present, can be here, can make it so Vrenille is not alone with this just here, just now. They still have a ways to go with rebuilding all the bridges between them, but there's more than enough for this.
He does not rush him but stands, one arm lifting around him, fingertips brushing slowly, lightly along his back. And when he speaks again, K simply agrees.
"Of course." They can go inside, and have a drink or two or ten, and K will stay here. K will be here, will be himself.
And, because he does have a small inkling of how much it means to Vrenille - because he can search his eyes, his face, and fill out that answer with what he can read as easily as text - he offers, first, a kiss at least twice as sweet as it is tentative.