"Fuck yes." Sweeney nuzzles once against her cheek, but the rest of him hasn't figured out much moving. Everything is tensed and relaxed, vibrating as the muscles can't make up their minds as to which one.

He wants to tell her he's proud of her--of them--and he knows he will. But not right now.

Now is for the quiet and still, what they are and what they've just become. Those kinds of words would muddle it.

"Got what ya were lookin' fer?" he chuckles softly against her skin.