He holds firmly and lets the other man cry. When David’s legs start to buckle, he eases them both to the ground, gently pulling back toward the staircase so he can lean them against it. He keeps his grip firm on David but lets one hand rub gentle circles on his back.

Whatever this is, it’s deep. Sometimes the best thing to do is just let the waves come. He suspects there’s more under it, pressure that’s been built over time. That’s the only thing that makes him cry that way, anyway.

“I know,” he says periodically. “I’ve got you. You’re alright.”