Out of them two Hythlodaeus would cheerfully name himself as the one who is used to public gestures of affection. He is, in fact, wrong. What he is used to is initiating such gestures, invariably with Hades there to take the metaphorical fall or, back home, Azem to play along. But being a recipient of it... it's new.
His face flushes, and even though the mask helps hide it somewhat, it's still easy enough to notice - especially for someone who's known Hythlodaeus for a long time. The bird on his shoulder tips its head and trills curiously, staring at this strange reflection of itself.
"...Heavens."
Hythlodaeus finally finds his voice and manages to look up at Hades, not a trace of his usual mischief on his face. It will be back soon enough, but for now he finds himself utterly disarmed by the gesture. He steps closer, reaching out to take Hades's hand - he's almost afraid to touch the drawing itself, as if it would disappear.
"And here I thought I had the upper hand against you," Hythlodaeus murmurs, looking down at the drawing as the inked bird spreads its wings. It's... beautiful, and the sentiment behind it is so much like Hades and all the more impactful for how discreet it is, in a way - unlike with the rings people here wear to signify their bond, one would need to know both Hades and Hythlodaeus and their relationship to understand the meaning. On its own, it's a thing of beauty; within context, it's a declaration of devotion that Hythlodaeus would never have expected to see.
He feels his face grow redder again and finds himself lamenting the crowds around them - though Hythlodaeus doesn't normally mind such things, he wants Hades to be comfortable, and a moment such as this deserves privacy.
Nevertheless, he can't help himself; he brings up a hand to cup Hades's cheek and leans in to press a quick kiss to his friend's lips.
"Thank you," he says quietly as he withdraws, voice soft and affectionate.
but what if ur in the mirror too
His face flushes, and even though the mask helps hide it somewhat, it's still easy enough to notice - especially for someone who's known Hythlodaeus for a long time. The bird on his shoulder tips its head and trills curiously, staring at this strange reflection of itself.
"...Heavens."
Hythlodaeus finally finds his voice and manages to look up at Hades, not a trace of his usual mischief on his face. It will be back soon enough, but for now he finds himself utterly disarmed by the gesture. He steps closer, reaching out to take Hades's hand - he's almost afraid to touch the drawing itself, as if it would disappear.
"And here I thought I had the upper hand against you," Hythlodaeus murmurs, looking down at the drawing as the inked bird spreads its wings. It's... beautiful, and the sentiment behind it is so much like Hades and all the more impactful for how discreet it is, in a way - unlike with the rings people here wear to signify their bond, one would need to know both Hades and Hythlodaeus and their relationship to understand the meaning. On its own, it's a thing of beauty; within context, it's a declaration of devotion that Hythlodaeus would never have expected to see.
He feels his face grow redder again and finds himself lamenting the crowds around them - though Hythlodaeus doesn't normally mind such things, he wants Hades to be comfortable, and a moment such as this deserves privacy.
Nevertheless, he can't help himself; he brings up a hand to cup Hades's cheek and leans in to press a quick kiss to his friend's lips.
"Thank you," he says quietly as he withdraws, voice soft and affectionate.