pixie_revolver
It's always been quite a task to try and describe the feeling. There are moments of sexual tension, there are bouts of giddy butterflies, but more often than not, there is... this.
Laying here in the bunk squeezed so close (because this space is not designed for two adult men), it always holds the same feeling. It's mossy green and gold and it feels like warm fleece right out of the drier. It smells like wet dirt and amber. It feels like home, even when they are God-only-knows how many miles away from home.