[Shame about your floor Tyki, there's about half a cup worth of spilled coffee on it now. He hits the wall with a choked off grunt, pulse racing as he struggles against the discomfort. When Tyki leans in he goes still, breath caught in the shallow and rapid. Okay, you proved your point. You scared him.]
Got it.
[He swallows, tilting his head away from the wash of hot air. If you pay attention, you might even catch the trail of dappled purple marks under his collar. A present from Kitty.]