Sasha hadn't expected such a prompt or eager response and the sudden opening of the door had him taking a step back in what had become reflex now. Gabe - because this was his brother, all his senses told him so before he'd even taken him in fully - was huge. Tall and athletic, muscular, so much of their father in him but none of the sharp, jagged or broken pieces.
There was a softness in him, more than the whimsical detail of the feather in his hair, that reminded Sasha hard and painfully of being home, of being loved, of the pair of them years ago before Sasha had understood that Gabe was supposed to be his brother and not a parent to him.
He barely registered the way his body cringed at the gentle contact, forgotten in the next moment when he leaned in against Gabe's chest and clung there like he had done when he was scared as a child, fisting great handfuls of Gabe's top and just pressing his head in against Gabe's front, breathing him in.