That seemed like a reasonable request, and though Aoba sounded a little off, Declan saw fit to attribute it to his feeling unwell. That was only fair, all things considered, and if he were completely honest with himself he might admit that it pleased him to have even the most chaste of physical contact with another person. Aoba could make all the demands he liked, as far as the Titan saw it, the blue-haired man was spoiling him and not the other way around.

Up he went and around, settling on his knees at the head of the couch, overlarge hands coming up over the armrest to press fingertips all over Aoba's scalp and hairline - only after he had rubbed his palms together and breathed into clasped hands to make certain they weren't cold or clammy. Rubbing gently but firmly, Declan tried his best to do what he imagined would feel quite nice in reciprocation, silver eyes watching his guest's mouth for any twitch or sign of discomfort.

"Is that helping any?" he asked quietly, not wishing to be too loud as he knew his voice had a fairly deep rumble no matter how he tried to manage the volume.