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He feels Guy's hand brush his, the briefest of touches, there and gone again. Kyle smiles a little to himself, and waits. A moment later he feels Guy's hand against the back of his own again, the touch lingering for a second longer this time. Kyle doesn't move or say anything, looks straight ahead. They are standing at the back of a crowd of the veteran lanterns, facing a group of rookies Kilowog is adressing.
Guy's hand brushes Kyle's again, before he finally grasps Kyle's hand, and laces their fingers together, Guy's ring is warm and solid against the soft skin of Kyle's fingers. Guy's hand is slightly larger than Kyle's and his grip is firm and warm. Kyle squeezes his hand and looks to his side at Guy, who is looking determinedly forward, the tips of his ears a soft touch of pink.
“Shut up,” Guy mumbles, cheeks turning slightly pink as well. Kyle squeezes Guy's hand again, and Guy squeezes back, tips his head forward to look at the floor instead, with a smile on his lips. Kyle's smile widen before he turns his head toward Kilowog again.