Despite himself, he made a low desperate sound, having to forcibly refuse to break the contact of their hands so that he could claw at his throat. No, there was something all too grounding about the lacing of their fingers even as he gasped and struggled to keep still on the padded seat.

He needed air. He tried to drink it in, but his throat closed as the bond swallowed him up. He found corners of himself that he knew existed by often ignored, little places where old hurts had long been buried away. His face reddened and his trembling increased to near-shaking until...

...the bond pulled back, the two-way conduit of them establishing something soul-breaking and grounding turning aside from him. He inhaled sharply a deep breath, and he gripped Wilson's hand in a death-grip as he breathed deep and freely, his eyes darting over to Steve watching them maneuver around each other far more deeply than physical.

He was drawn away and stiffened at the tease of teeth on his neck. He immediately jerked back, sending himself sprawling backwards and ramming his shoulders against the bulkhead of the truck, tearing their grips apart and him ending up rolling to hit the floor on his elbows on and knees. He trembled and gasped there.

"N-no biting... never that..."