"We're going to have to put on pants," Matt explains. "Clothing, at least. If you're up for it." It's only because he's concentrating that he knows Tim is smiling. He can hear the other's muscles shape, notices the air around them. It's the way Matt sees, and he paints a picture of Tim. Gorgeous, beautiful Tim in various shades of red.

Something occurs to him, though, and his face falls, just slightly. "A--are you?" He doesn't realize he's stuttered, doesn't realize he sounds like a kid, still, and he squeezes the other's hand tightly as a reaction.

"It's not--not far, though. At all."