Bishop knows that this is a tightrope he’s walking on. If he insists on being too good, the other could take it as some sort of refusal or something. But if he gives in to what the primal part of his brain says to do, he could rush in too fast.

But when he feels the weight of Sawyers head on his shoulder he chuckles softly, “I don’t exactly fit the mold. I know. But it’s worked out pretty well for me so far…”

He reaches up to cup his face in his hands, looks him over a moment and then presses a kiss to his mouth that isn’t a rush of anything but warmth, “I will want you when you’re ready. I promise you that. I don’t care that you aren’t some pure unicorn or something. But you won’t be used like that again moving forward.”