Oh. Gabe makes a small sound, pressing against Henry. Funny, he thinks. No one in Hell has accused him of being easy. No one's ever thrown it against him, tried to wield it like a weapon. But it's printed on his list. A sin, something he ought to suffer for. Something he'll have to redeem. But fuck, it feels good to be touched. It feels like sanity and finding his center.

He moves with Henry. Lets the man touch him, lets it happen.

It doesn't hurt. It's almost gentle. He's not certain about that. It feels like uncharted territory, uneasy and strange.

Gabe lets go of Henry's wrist and runs his hand up Henry's arm instead. Keeping himself anchored, but feeling him out. Centering himself.

Fuck, it feels good to touch someone. And he wants -

He wants more. Maybe too much.