It felt nice to be held by someone. To be taken care of, or cared for, or whatever this was. It was different from what he was used to. It wasn't so much that his family hadn't loved him or shown him this sort of affection, as it was that it was secondary to other things. They cared, but other things would always matter more. Politics, society, public opinion. With Chris he felt like, just maybe, this was the most important thing. At least, in this moment. And he didn't even care that the kiss to his forehead made him feel like he was about five years old or something, because somebody actually gave a damn about him, without the obligations of family or anything. And he thought, just maybe, he loved Chris a little for that.
He tried to look up as Chris kissed his forehead again, only succeeding in managing to go cross-eyed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I never wanted to scare you, I just...wasn't thinking. Or I was but...when it gets like that there's no real alternative besides stopping it. I need to talk to Claude about control. He helped me last time...and okay, it was unconventional with the whole hitting me with a stick and tossing me off the roof thing...but he's good at what he does." He gave Chris a small smile. "I know you're my Whitelighter and I should be going to you for this, but...I need someone who will push me more than I think I can handle...and I don't want to put you in that position." He didn't say that he didn't want Chris to see him if he failed.
"I'm glad," he said softly, "that you would miss me...that you would care if I didn't...I just...I..." He was at a loss for words, so he did the only thing he could think of, leaning forward to kiss Chris again, slower this time and not as desperate. There was a hesitancy, as if he was afraid that Chris was going to haul off and hit him.