There was hardly ever a time when Toru had been left like this, wide-eyed and shocked. What Kazuya had said was indeed the exact reversal of everything he had heard, internalized, and believed for so many years now. Artwork? Exotic treasure? Beautiful? He could hardly come to grasp these statements; they were alien to him, like a lost tribe's forgotten language. Such compliments were far richer fare than his poor, starved self-esteem was used to.
"...you... y-you really think that..." His hand was clenched tightly within that of Kazuya's, and curled tighter still as he spoke. "I-I'm..." Toru's face was now brighter red than before, and his eyes downcast, incapable of meeting Kaz's.
"Beautiful." This last word was tiny, hushed, upon a single breath. Nobody but Kazuya could have heard it. Before the other boy could do or say anything, Toru had responded in the one way that felt appropriate. There was no other possibility for showing his emotions at the time.
No hesitation or inner refusal held back this kiss. It was a whole-hearted expression of gratitude, which Toru was determined to make last. His hand, which may have had been a barrier between them before, was swept out of the way along with the hand clasped around it. Perhaps at some other time he would've felt embarrassed as to how much he leant into it, and how much initiative he was showing, but now, it was just the right thing. Nothing else mattered.