♡ – continued from here, @prcperdose
Evan is doting. Evan looks at August like he's God, which August finds amusing considering, like, fucking everything. It's the kind of thing that brings a certain weakness in his knees. August cannot handle adoration in small doses. Everything is worth consuming without moderation, without decorum. Every nerve ending feels burnt to the touch whenever Evan is near. August, truly, just cannot help himself.
The warmth of Evan is a comfort that August desperately seeks in moments like this. He's out of his element. He's all fucked up. He's never really been this fucking far from home, and everything feels completely ungrounding. But here? To be tucked away in a private moment with Evan pressed up against the wall like this – it brings August right back down to earth. August pulls his lips from Evan's neck to pass a pointed glare. "You're the best fuckin' prize, baby. I don't want anything else." His words are spoken like a biblical truth, like it's not something for Evan to ever question. August rolls his eyes, though his pride wears itself in a coy smirk. "Yeah, c'mon, tell me how proud you are of me."
