[Now that's a dangerous response -- Koby laughs, softly, face flushed, settled chest-to-chest, and he thinks about asking for always, asking for forever, just to see what Fearless will say. In the hazy, warm place he's in, even the prospect of being refused doesn't seem that scary, doesn't seem like it'd shatter apart everything and break him from the inside-out -- though it would. Koby knows damn well it would.

So he swallows back the word, kisses the corner of Fearless's mouth instead, slides his hands under the loose collar of his shirt to graze callused and fond over his skin.] He's on shore leave all weekend. Lights-out was half an hour ago. So -- no check-ins for at least another four hours. Is that enough time? [Sweet, doe-eyed, innocent, like he isn't nudging Fearless back towards his bunk, like there's not a hunger in those wide eyes that burns hotter than solar flares. Like Koby doesn't want to risk everything in those next few hours, hands moving down to the hem of Fearless's shirt, tugging at it gently.

There's hopefulness there too, a soft sweetness that says I'll give you these hours, this time, give you everything I can, just don't hate me for it, just don't disappear before the sun rises, just don't leave me alone before I catch my breath. Fearless hasn't done it yet, even though Koby braces himself for it every time, braces for rejection or cruelty or just plain disinterest. He's gotten it from everyone else, everyone except this boy who should be the very first to give it. There's no reason for him to trust the fond warmth in Fearless's grin, the affection in his touch, in the way he looks downward with dark eyes and a soft smile. But he does, all the same.]