"The morning you touched me," he whispers into Fives' hair, and for all that they wake up every other day in a pile, there is only one morning he could possibly mean. "As soon as you left, I - I imagined something like this. I don't think it took me five seconds."

Muffling himself in their pillows, stroking himself hard and desperate to the idea of Fives holding him, getting off on him, in several meanings of the words, instead of just the metaphorical one that had been true at the time. "Fire and ash, the smell is even stronger this time."