The touch itself isn't erotic. It's not light. It's not teasing. It doesn't necessarily make Hobbes feel he's supposed to put on a show. It just...washes over him, comforting. He breathes out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, easing into the touch and making a soft, needy sound.

It's not as if it's a burden to endure, and even if the touches don't feel like sex, he skin sops up the contact and the heat, and he presses back into Mike without thinking about it, a noise pressing past his lips.