Ace shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and the movement causes even more of their skin to touch.
Kieran's fingers twitch against Ace's waist, resisting the urge to grip, to hold. He clenches his jaw.
"Ace," he murmurs, voice tight.
Ace doesn't answer. He just nuzzles in closer, his cheek pressing against Kieran's chest like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Kieran swallows hard. He's been through battles, through war, through sleepless nights filled with blood and responsibility weighing on his shoulders. But nothing, nothing, has tested his self-control like this moment.
The room is quiet except for the faint sound of their breathing.
Ace's body is warm, solid, and impossibly close. Kieran can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, the slight shiver that runs through him, whether from exhaustion or something else, Kieran doesn't know.