If only it were as easy as to just not let his past haunt him, when it felt like the ghost of his father followed him everywhere.  Over his shoulder and in his blood.  Edmund lifted his eyes to Francis, and then the other man was all he could see.  His whisper was all he could hear, the warmth from his breath and skin all he could feel.

Without a word, Edmund lifted his arms and drooped them over Francis' shoulder and pulled him closer still.  His head fell beside the others and he couldn't help but nuzzle against him.

When was the last time he'd hugged someone, properly?  Edmund couldn't remember.

"Francis," he mumbled, nothing following the name except a smile.  "Francis."