[ the significance of them both having keys to this apartment doesn't leap out at cassidy, but if he ever stopped to think about it, maybe it would. maybe he will stop to think about it, after the revelation about john. regardless of who owns keys to what, he understands this much at least: the apartment would cease to feel like a home if freddie weren't there.

he understands, too, why freddie kept the hat, and he suspects it doesn't have anything to do with the intrinsic value. it's the only reason he hasn't reclaimed it, even though it goes much better with his wardrobe than with anything freddie owns.

and maybe he's noticed that there are fewer strangers coming and going. he never thought too much on it, since it suited him just fine. he never thought too much on why it suited him, either, except that he never sleeps half as well anywhere else as he does in freddie's bed. it could be that it's more comfortable, or that the light doesn't shine directly through the window in the early morning, or that the pipes creak less in his room. it could be.

his mouth hooks into a smile at the sound of freddie's laugh. it only grows as freddie's teeth graze the end of his finger. he laughs, then. dr. baxter might just be worse than dr. hawking. but cassidy's not complaining. ]

Christ, no.

[ his finger catches freddie's lip, his thumb the underside of his chin. ]

It smarted like the Spanish torture, such as I'd not been able to do my duties. So my shipmate nicked the forceps from the surgeon and removed it for me.

[ he turns his hand, so his thumb is on freddie's lip instead, and his finger is beneath his chin. it's tempting. ]

Besides which, it was the other hand.

[ said hand is lifted from freddie's knee, the fingers waving in demonstration. ]