He presses into the touch wordlessly, eyes closed. Maybe he won't be able to sleep without dreaming, but he can rest like this. Curled into this man he trusts with more than his life. It almost doesn't feel like Pope fucked him. Like that happened in a strange dream, or a book that Carver read, and not to him. Not really.

"I'm yours, sir," he murmurs. It's not the first time he's said it. It won't be the last. "This is all I got now."