Eliot understood, not what they were reduced to, but the oppression that existed even when the Devil wasn't there. He sat on the edge while Sam curled up, resting a hand on his shoulder like a lover would have after sex.

"I shouldn't be against your back," Eliot reminded him gently. "should give it space to air dry."

But Sam insisted, so Eliot moved in, careful to give the man a little gap at least before he very tentatively curled up behind the other man. The bed was narrow for him to properly sleep sideways across so he put his hand on Sam's waist, half to keep himself from falling off the edge and half to assure the man he was there. With the two of them settled, Eliot closed his eyes. It has been a tiring day.