In the subtle range of emotions he was capable of displaying, Ren looked perplexed by the suggestion that he answer the door and turned a quizzical look on Ghost, considering the “more advanced Allmate” to be his own best source of understanding.

Meanwhile, Aoba allowed himself to be duly chided and mumbled nothing more than another “thanks, Declan” as he tried to sag into the couch cushions, slowly curling and uncurling his toes, then for some weird reason wondering if his head might feel better if Declan put those strong-gentle fingers to work at his temples and—

—put those hands to work somewhere else instead—

The fragment of thought came through on a bolt of red, causing Aoba to clench his teeth and tighten his fingers in Ren’s fur as well. What the hell? No, definitely not, definitely not, Aoba didn’t even know where that thought had come from.

“Aoba?” He heard Ren’s voice, concerned.

“M’okay….”