[ Chris could never be called a reticent man, though he has developed that surface-level stoicism that most command positions require in an organization like Starfleet, but that doesn't mean he's particularly effusive either. His reactions are subtle, muted, overlaid with a heavy sort of affection that leaves him staring down at Loki with half-lidded eyes as his fingers rub abstract patterns through his hair.
Those fingers are a pretty good indication of when he's enjoying something particularly well, though, tightening and loosening in turns, twitching against Loki's scalp and giving aborted little tugs that are quickly suppressed.
It's rude to pull on someone's hair without full permission, after all, and things haven't reached that fever pitch just yet.
Chris is rather enjoying this slow and steady coda to his slow and steady morning, he doesn't want to rush through it all and miss anything important. ]
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Those fingers are a pretty good indication of when he's enjoying something particularly well, though, tightening and loosening in turns, twitching against Loki's scalp and giving aborted little tugs that are quickly suppressed.
It's rude to pull on someone's hair without full permission, after all, and things haven't reached that fever pitch just yet.
Chris is rather enjoying this slow and steady coda to his slow and steady morning, he doesn't want to rush through it all and miss anything important. ]