Instead of a joke or a denial, Neil reaches up and hugs him firmly. And something in Alex softens, despite everything to the contrary.

He presses his face into Neil's shoulder, shifting his legs to wrap around Neil's waist, ankles crossing behind him. He holds him in turn. "Hate you," he mutters, without heat.

Because you're throwing me off guard. Because this whole morning has made him feel more vulnerable than he has in years upon years.

He squeezes tightly, nuzzling in.