[There's a swell of something, tight and sharp - the shiver of something so greedy-uncertain-grateful that it feels a little like the prickle at the corners of your eyes, just before tears start]

[He takes it in, unsteady and yearning - hoarding the warmth to him, physical and emotional both]

[Hurricane's fingers close hard in the fabric of Izanagi's shirt, holding on like he doesn't mean to let go anytime soon]