Chen woke first.
The floor was unforgiving against his back, and something sharp was digging into his shoulder blade, but none of that mattered. Not when he looked down and saw Skyy still curled against his chest, breathing slow and even, face slack with sleep.
Skyy looked small like this.
He was still naked, still tangled in the blanket Chen had dragged over them sometime in the night, and he had one hand fisted loosely in Chen's shirt like he was afraid Chen would disappear if he let go.
Chen stayed very still and watched him.
Morning light crept in through the cracks in the storage room walls, thin and gray. The wounded man in the corner was still asleep, snoring softly. Everything was quiet.
Chen's eyes drifted down.
And then he winced.
Skyy's body was a mess.
