Stupid grown adults capable of tossing him around like a bag of rice. Twice in a week is too much. He has to kind of scramble over the edge of the cot to help Wash out, half as a matter or pride and half because the dude just got shot and Dave feels bad leaving him to do any actual work no matter how recovered he claims to be. It ends with Dave wedged in alongside him, tucked under his arm and shit, it is a full-blown cuddle now.

Okay, yeah. He is red-faced and shades-less and kind of a wreck still. He's definitely not removing his face from where it is safely pressed against Wash's shoulder and thus hidden forever.

"I'm telling the internet that Freelancer is a cuddler," he mumbles instead. "I don't give a fuck about the consequences of them asking how I know this. I will take one for the team to ensure your fanfic is full of sappy emotional hugging with your whole spectrum of armorbros."