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They gather at the Pony, what's left of them; a sad, milling circle of seven, uneven and incomplete. Still, Alex has to smile, pull Kyle tight against him when he and Isobel walk through the door, murmuring, "Welcome back, sleeping beauty."
Kyle huffs a laugh into his shoulder, then pauses, leaning in close to breath Alex in deeper. Alex steps back, brow drawn in confusion, mouth twisted in amusement.
Kyle just looks smug.
"Congratulations," he says, a wide smile on his lips.
"For what?" Alex laughs.
Kyle sets a hand on Alex's shoulder, but his gaze misses him, traveling instead to where Michael hovers close, back turned, but restless and alert down to his messy curls. Kyle chuckles, squeezes the meat of Alex's muscle and meets his eyes again.
"You smell like a downpour, man."