Re: [Outside the Rec Center.]
Holly hated Jenga. No, really, even before this, right? He found the game to be stressful in a way he didn't enjoy, and he'd never managed to get behind it. Not that he'd been a big Jenga player in his version of home, but he'd played a few games once he'd moved out of Repose. He hadn't liked it. It didn't help that Jenga usually happened at parties where people were wasted, and wasted people always made Holly uncomfortable. Okay, apparently that didn't apply when he was wasted too, but the gist was that he didn't like Jenga. He didn't like it in practice, here, either, because Noah was right that this place was like one big fucking Jenga tower, and Holly maybe wasn't the kinda flexible that made it all easy to deal with.
Yeah, Holly knew that Noah was a big boy. He'd gotten that from day one, and in a lot of ways. So, was it okay to be using the guy he was trying to convince himself not to be into as a grounding rod? Probably not, but Holly just gripped jacket until Noah moved away to cut the engine obediently.
It gave Holly, like, five seconds to think, right? About that goofy smile on Noah's face, the one that was almost a laugh. The engine died, and then there were just nature sounds around them, and even those were fall-quiet. He managed a hint of an eyeroll when Noah said the engine cut was to hear him sing better, but Holly didn't actually say anything. He knew Noah was going to come closer. He knew it like he knew that he, Holly, would pick his own ass up after this, and that he'd be okay. That was just who he was, and this was an interlude that he would absolutely pretend hadn't happened after the fact. Even if, you know, Noah had totally offered the hand to help him get onto his feet.
For now, and in a fit of weakness seemingly crafted for a country song with excessive twang, Holly just watched Noah approach. Noah touched his jaw, and Holly leaned into it for a few seconds. He closed his eyes, and the world behind his eyelids was as confusing as the world faced with eyes wide open, so he did that... he opened his eyes. He looked, right? He reached up for Noah's hand, and he tugged it down, but not out of some desire not to be touched. He just took that hand in his own, and he traced the hairs on the back of it, against the grain and then to Noah's wrist. He didn't talk while he did it, and his mind was kinda completely focused on the feel of skin and hair beneath fingertips. Okay, so it was absolutely a diversionary tactic, but it worked, right? That was all that mattered right now, and he took up Noah's other hand with his own. He repeated what he'd just done, and then, if permitted, he lifted both of Noah's hands, bent at the wrist, and he pressed his own palm against Noah's, fingers lined up with fingers.