Kept clean, Cole's hair is soft and silky and falls easily as Ben's fingers brush it. He can feel the anxiety flutter against Ben's ribs, trickle memories of ice cold fear down to his gut but the warmth of the moment brushes the cobwebs of frost back and away.

Time means nothing much to Cole. The moment is enough, however long or short the moment is, moments are what matter to spirits, what they experience and live in. This moment will be as long as it needs to be and nothing more or less.

It's alien, in a way. The first moment that Ben's mouth brushes his, warm with affection and tingling with anticipation, makes Cole shiver softly, feeling Ben's emotions sharper and feeling the physical interaction of their skin. It's not like hands, or cuddles, it's softer and brighter and without him having to focus, he leans in a little, eyes closing and breathing out as Ben moves back a little.

He opens his eyes and looks up at Ben with a faint smile.