Curling his hand over Noah's knee, Freddie lets his eyes slip shut for a minute, lets himself enjoy the feel of Noah's fingers through his hair, touch light across his forehead. This is the kind of thing that can happen after sex, he's found. Not every time, of course, but with some. The ones who want to stick around awhile, even if only until breakfast.

And Noah's stuck around for six months now. Give or take some times for Freddie acting like an arsehole.

"You been with anyone else recently?" he asks after a long moment, his eyes still locked on the tree. "Like, since we started messing around?"