"I can take it," Hobbes said, still speaking quietly, leaning up into that touch, back arching. He couldn't look away from the table, not at first. He should feel exposed and he does, strangely. Mike's standing in front of him and Mike is totally clothed, and there's that array of things on the table...

But he doesn't. He can feel the way Mike's looking at him and, knowing that, he's not afraid.

He swallowed. "I can."