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Syx hadn’t slept the entire time he’d been behind bars, he just couldn’t. The dreams always haunted him. The solitary made him feel half mad. More than half mad really. He’d pulled a stupid stunt to get out.  More foolish than he should, but it worked. Anna and Minion would be eager to see him. So would Wayne. Yet he found himself outside of the towering building that Harrison lived in. The bags under his eyes were deep, a five-o-clock shadow on his jaw, his clothing too big and stolen. He’d used a brain bot to fly up to the roof of a nearby building. He didn’t even know what his plan was. He was just tired and wanted the thoughts to go away.

Syx cupped Harrison’s hand with his own and rubbed his cheek on the offered hand, the stubble on his jaw rough, “Soft is good,” he sighed. 

His life was hard, metal and concrete. He allowed himself the indulgence of soft occasionally, but never for long. It only made returning to the harshness of reality crueler. This, though… this was a stolen moment. He’d enjoy every second of softness.

He turned his head to kiss Harrison’s palm, “You’d be softer.”

“And I’m perfectly willing to be your soft cuddle toy,” Harrison replies, his voice gentle but firm.  He’s been shit with boundaries in the past so he understands the greedy desire for physical and sexual affection, but this is a line he will not cross.  His mate comes first.   “Lets get you changed.”

Syx understood boundaries all too well. He has a million of them and has danced up to those lines so many times. It’s only been recently that he’d started to open up. With that, the craving for more only growing. He would take whatever he was allowed, desperately not wanting to lose what this was. He stood to accept the offered clothing, “That’s an acceptable proposition.”