"...can we still be- you know. Bros?" Even if the way he sets his cheek to Locus' shoulder, the curl of his fingers around the angle of his hip is distinctly un-bro-like. With this hanging under everything they do. The awareness that if not for York being too chickenshit to get his head together, if not for the inevitability of it's ending in the most anticlimactic way possible, that they might give it a shot? It's a weighty thing.

But the calm camaraderie. The reassurance that this is real, this calm haven he's found at Sam's side- it's not one that he's so willing to give up just yet.