They sit back to back, Makishima’s little finger hooked over Toudou’s, and talk about all the things which they cannot say while facing each other.

Oh, my heart. I love this beautiful, more mellow Toudou, still so chatty and tempestuous at times (and childish, there's something so delightfully Toudou when he presses his face into Makishima's chest), but his maturity as a god gives him so much more; I love that Makishima is distracted by him.

This was so soft and sweet. ;A;