( Kaladin's jaw works against the first shiver Noctis sends up his spine. He's never allowed another man to touch him like this, so while he has intimate experience in months-long relationships, this feels brand new. Knuckles are rough, and he likes how different they are from brushes of soft fingers.

With permission, he thanks Noctis for it, sweeping him into his arms.

The crown of Noctis' head barely comes up to Kaladin's shoulder. He's not supposed to find it endearing; even Alethi are sensitive about their heights. But storm it, he does anyway, and there's very little chance he can be convinced otherwise. It's the way they fit together—their mismatch and the perfection of that—that makes Kaladin smile again. This time, it's against him, in feathery black hair that tickles his nose. )

I was afraid that, uh... ( His voice, still thick with emotion, softly wavers. ) That you wouldn't feel the same. That you weren't attracted to me. And then we argued...

After that, I knew. I wanted to tell you my feelings earlier, but I was ashamed. I'm so sorry.