Gansey is warm and flirtatious, all bright and shiny charm and a wry smile to cover over the pain and nerves that are obvious just beneath the surface, the emotional risk that he's taken just to ask for this, and ask again.

Declan's hand lashes out, grabbing Gansey by the front of the shirt and hauling him in enough so that he can glare in his face. It's a mistake. Gansey's so close, those dazzling eyes shining with his natural charm and his damaged vulnerability, all that lonely yearning. He's so Gansey up close, a force of nature, and Declan's already far more fragile than he wanted to show. Up close, his defenses are brittle and wearing thin in so many spots.

His hand quivers, and there's no way to hide that up close. No way to hide the desperate and aroused little flick of his tongue across his lips. The impulsive way his eyes drop to Gansey's mouth.

He staggers back, defenses cracked wide open. He doesn't know how to cope with being wanted, and Gansey's so genuine about it.