[It's not fair, what Cassel's doing. It's not a fair or kind thing, especially given their history, given what these hands have done to Slevin's form and soul in the months they've known each other in this place. This version of Slevin's memories of Cassel are all of gleeful cruelty, pain, and violence. There is nothing good associated with him - nothing at all that didn't get turned on its head and used against him.]
[The embrace is its own form of cruelty, but it's also, Cassel thinks, necessary. That's the trouble with being a moral person - it's never wholly possible. There's always something not quite right that you have to do to make things better later. He doesn't want to think like this, but he does.]
[He begins to doubt himself right before Slevin makes that sound, but once it's out, he knows it's only a matter of time. This is right. This is safe. And more than that, it feels good in his heart. So few things unequivocally do that he knows this must be what this moment in time requires, that if he were to do anything else, he would ruin everything.]
[He buries his face in Slevin's shoulder, his ribs creaking under the man's tight embrace, and sighs contentedly. Yes, this, this is what he almost got himself killed for. A moment in which they understand each other without saying a word. This is why touch is important. This is what he's learned.]
[This is part of what Slevin has to learn again. Love and support at the touch of fingertips.]
[He smells good, Cassel thinks. He smells like dirt and sweat and a little like family.]
Spam
[The embrace is its own form of cruelty, but it's also, Cassel thinks, necessary. That's the trouble with being a moral person - it's never wholly possible. There's always something not quite right that you have to do to make things better later. He doesn't want to think like this, but he does.]
[He begins to doubt himself right before Slevin makes that sound, but once it's out, he knows it's only a matter of time. This is right. This is safe. And more than that, it feels good in his heart. So few things unequivocally do that he knows this must be what this moment in time requires, that if he were to do anything else, he would ruin everything.]
[He buries his face in Slevin's shoulder, his ribs creaking under the man's tight embrace, and sighs contentedly. Yes, this, this is what he almost got himself killed for. A moment in which they understand each other without saying a word. This is why touch is important. This is what he's learned.]
[This is part of what Slevin has to learn again. Love and support at the touch of fingertips.]
[He smells good, Cassel thinks. He smells like dirt and sweat and a little like family.]