"I don't think so... it's a right bastard with a history of tearing fingers to shreds, mail won't take him, school... he hated school. More than me." he sighed and watched as Jack turned his hand over. "I should but then there'd be putting them on and... and ta... taking them... off..." his sentence stuttered and fractured towards the end because fuck but he couldn't concentrate when Jack's fingers were doing that to his hand.
Luckily the thunk of the food arriving broke the moment and he took a furtive breath to calm himself down while Jack got the food.
He sat himself up on the bed with his legs crossed under him, tucking into his cherry pancakes with his fingers because the American ones were too hot for him to go sticking bare fingers into hot syrup. "Mmmm, Jack, I've said this one, I'll say it again - I fucking lov you."