[ As Oxford drops his head Cambridge's grip slackens if only to free up his hands to pull Oxford closer. He wraps his arms around the older man's neck - the height difference of one stair being just enough to make it comfortable - and folds him towards Cambridge's bare chest. Cambridge has never ordinarily been one for many public displays of affection but this is hardly public - nor is it really a particularly ordinary situation. There have been times - brief, infrequent times - when Cambridge has allowed himself to mellow in Oxford's company, to become a softer, more affectionate version of himself. This isn't quite the same as that - this isn't an affectionate embrace of someone trying to prove the point that they can, this is something more sad and pliant and compassionate than that. He merely rests his cheek quietly against Oxford's hair, unwilling to say anything just yet. ]
no subject