Andrew took Jack's arm against his side, curling their fingers together in a gesture of wordless thanks that neither had really had to voice to each other since the end of their first year. He curled his feet back a little to tangle those together too and sighed softly, a genuine one filled with the disappointment, annoyance at himself, the stress of having no money in the foreseeable future, the knowledge that this, this spooning, didn't mean what he wanted it to (because everything could come back to that and always did) and, at the end of it all, how very stupid he was to sabotage himself like this.
"You did say I was masochistic." he commented, his words muffled in the blankets.