Dusty was a confident man, he always wore it on his sleeve, unafraid of PDA.

He was open with his affections, eager to kiss the side of your neck or grab your waist in just the right place, but you’ve come to figure out that his love language is actually something a lot more.. vulnerable.

Tapping. Patting.

Right now was a prime example.

You two were sat on the couch watching a movie, Dusty’s arm slung comfortably around your shoulders, when he came to the conclusion that he wants a drink.

So, he sat up—pat your thigh mindlessly—and stood to walk off into the kitchen.