"I guess," Teddy murmurs, knowing Maxxie's right. If he's honest, it's nice just to be touched. Getting his arms around Billy the night before had been one reminder, but this is a different level. There's nothing awkward in it. It feels so good just to be touched, by a friend.
"He'll remember. We'll help him remember," he says, letting his eyes close. He is a mess, totally exhausted, and it feels like all the wound up tension inside him is uncoiling under Maxxie's fingertips. It feels like his heart isn't being squeezed quite so much. Except apparently that's too much, and whatever anxiety and hurt and fear had generated the painful, hard knot in his back that Maxxie miraculously undoes, it all seems to flood through him. He doesn't realize his breath is hitching or that his fingers are curling hard into the sheets, he just knows that he's tired, and hurt, and there's someone with him he doesn't have to be anything for (or not be anything to), and that the bed does smell like Billy and he misses him.
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"He'll remember. We'll help him remember," he says, letting his eyes close. He is a mess, totally exhausted, and it feels like all the wound up tension inside him is uncoiling under Maxxie's fingertips. It feels like his heart isn't being squeezed quite so much. Except apparently that's too much, and whatever anxiety and hurt and fear had generated the painful, hard knot in his back that Maxxie miraculously undoes, it all seems to flood through him. He doesn't realize his breath is hitching or that his fingers are curling hard into the sheets, he just knows that he's tired, and hurt, and there's someone with him he doesn't have to be anything for (or not be anything to), and that the bed does smell like Billy and he misses him.
It's all just too damn much.