David ducked his head and smiled – laughed for the first time in the past few days. The fact that he was so drunk that his cheeks were burning red and he needed Cal’s arm around his waist to hold him upright probably made no small contribution to the laughter.
“I’m fine Cal,” he mumbled, words slurred as he writhed and tried to wriggle his way out of Cal’s grip.
Cal doesn’t let go even as David grows increasingly frustrated. It’s only when the two of them are a heap on the floor that he does let go, offering the hug the English boy so desperately needs.
It’s not okay to cry at the funeral of a client, even though Cal and David knew Saito was more than that. But it might be okay to shed a few tears, buried in someone’s embrace, when no one’s looking.