The nuzzle to his cheek made him smile, and try to do it back, almost like two cats rubbing against each other. It was a cute moment he wouldn’t forget, but then the other man was sitting up, away from him.
It was sad to see the shirt go, sure, but what it was replaced with was something... better. Reaching up, with a moment of hesitation, Rhys let his fingers brush against Joseph’s skin. Starting at his collar bone, down, down, before his hand flattened against his stomach. His skin didn’t seem to have a single blemish.
Like his own mother, the younger kindred, himself, was covered in freckles. His brothers and father hadn’t had them almost at all, but the youngest had always been fairer, more pale. They weren’t as obvious on his face, just a light dusting across his nose and cheeks, but his arms, body and legs were lined with them. When his own clothing started to come off, the darker spots would be impossible to miss. It had always been something he hadn’t quite liked about himself and had been another reason as to why he was always wearing long sleeved things that covered him.