[ It's a lot harder to be embarrassed by his tastes when they're so deeply fulfilled by the man in his arms, instead of some hypothetical ideal everyone else seems to think it's possible. That matters less now. Everything matters less than the way Olivine laughs.

But at Olivine's vision of the future, Basch holds him tighter, his voice strained. ] You aren't the one I don't trust. Olivine I...attacked a man I'd been close to for years. He nearly died. I can't...

[ He doesn't finish the sentence, but he presses his nose into Olivine's hair, tears threatening, and he feels guilty seeking this comfort when Olivine can hardly leave his arms. Hells, Basch is still inside him, admitting how unworthy he is. ]