He shivers at how light the touch is, and his fingers hook under K's shirt. He's not pressing for more yet; he just wants to feel him, wants to see if he can get K to react this way or that to a touch here, the glide of his nails there.
K isn't ticklish, but he's sensitive to a welcome touch all the same; his breath catches so subtly that if they weren't kissing at the time it might have been missed, but he continues without pulling away. He makes a soft, approving sound - it's okay - and slides his own hand up further along the skin of Jesus's side, too, making sure to miss the rib he learned last time makes Jesus break away to keep from laughing.
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