[Steve would have been ridiculously happy to find out James drew. It had been a long time since he picked up a pencil, but once upon a time he'd considered himself an artist. Not a terribly good one, but definitely one who appreciated the beauty of the world around him. He pulled the journal free and tossed it back on the bed, so both their hands could be free. He groaned softly at the hand in his hair, shivering as he tightened both arms on James, his answer obvious. Steve was in so much trouble.]
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Yes. Too much. Say you can stay a while? Please?