He couldn’t hear the whisper of the door sliding open and shut again over the beeping and whirring of machines. A hand cupping his cheek roused him from partial consciousness, unaccustomed to the simple, gentle gesture.
Will blinked his eyes open. The only light in the room came from a bland little lamp on the bedside table. It was enough to illuminate his guest’s meek smile. Apologetic in its own silent way. Will shifted in the hospital bed, carefully moving himself to one side, making as much space as he could manage. Pain flared up in his stomach with the strain, but it settled again as Frederick climbed in under the thin sheets.
"You came back," he sighed, half turned on his side, hand tailed by the line of his IV coming to rest on the other patient’s chest.
Gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and back again. The number monitoring his pulse’s quick increase gave him away; they drew closer and met in a soft kiss, fingers interlocking perfectly, the spaces between Frederick’s fingers absolutely designed for Will’s to go there.
He couldn’t stay, they both knew that, but squished together in the narrow hospital bed, silence interrupted only by quiet breathing and the beep, beep, beep of Will’s heart monitor, well…
It was enough.