He doesn't fight it at all when Luther slides an arm around him, if anything he only leans into his brother's side further for all that arm acts as an invitation. "Yes I am," he whispers quietly, voice still shaky. His fingers reaching up to tangle into the material of Luther's shirt. "Dad says it all the time. It's, like, his favorite thing to tell me."

He presses his cheek against Luther's ribs, tilting his head up a little to look up at him. "What if I never figure it out? Whu- what do you think Dad'll do, if I can't ever...stop being so scared?"