He might have read this differently before. Had, actually, in the capital particularly. But he understands Neil a bit more now. Understands the gaps and holes in his chest and his life. The loss that came in pieces, chunks, breaking away and cracking off while nothing Neil did mattered. Changed anything. Stopped it. A ridiculous, unnecessary, destructive loss, but it had been the stable point. The only point. The axis of Neil Park's existence.

That used to be James Park. Now it was Alex Seattle Geer.

You're my home.

Neil looks like death and Alex only kisses his forehead.

"You're all I want," he repeats. "Sex or no sex, as long as you stay with me like this I'm happy. You're my life. And I'm your home. So stay here. Stay right here."