Brendan wasn't tired, but that was a good excuse to get progressively further into his beer and lean more against Poe. Poe was soft-spoken and careful with his words, very different from Manabu. Different was good. He couldn't deal with more reminders of what once had been right now, even though some part of him wanted Poe to curl up against him the way that Manabu had during movies like this.

He needed affection and it needed, after what happened back home and then here, to be safe, stable, reliable. Poe was those things when it came to helping people out. He might not haven been the closest friend Brendan had, but there was a kindness in his countenance that suggested he would have listened if Brendan opened up, if Brendan needed someone to hear him out. It was easy to relax and end up pressed against Poe, as if in a daze, a little sleepy, a little warm, and before he knew it he had his arms around Poe like he was trying to cuddle the man into being Manabu.

I'm a terrible person, Brendan thought, and then made no move whatsoever to move away. But if he doesn't mind then I don't.