If you're going to start quoting military protocol at me you could at least wear a uniform while you do it.

[There, levity. A common reach during times of strife and struggle. Even if it doesn't quite reach its mark, it's something. And these gentle touches, they're something too - a type of affection Prior's never been able to help responding to. Human contact.

How would he win?]

But you'd win with no blood drawn.

[It's not the most romantic location, they've yet to manage one of those, but there's nothing inappropriate about a kiss by a sickbed. It might be the most proper place in the world. And so Prior's hand slips to the back of Byerly's neck, enough to bring that lean in closer, and lifts his own head to meet him there.

Leaving Prior, and losing him: to Louis, they'd be very different things.]