In any other scenario, in any other world, the sound of Daigo's laughter would inspire a lightness in Sebastian's chest. As it is, hearing it in this context almost pisses him off, but Daigo's so dogged down by his own self-inflicted pain it kills any urge to smack him that rises.
Besides, he promised not to beat him up so long as he listened, and agreeing to sleep is as good a sign of obedience as any.
"When have I ever lied to you?" Sebastian asks, scoffing. The question is genuine-- the only way Daigo could come up with any answer that made sense would be if he counted lying by omission under that umbrella.
He doesn't argue the comment about his back, though (he doubts telling Daigo he's fallen down multiple stories since this nightmare began would be as comforting as it sounds in Sebastian's head). Sebastian taps the back of Daigo's hand, then makes a jerking motion with his head towards the pillows at the head of the bed. "Lie down, Dojima. I'll be there in a second."
Whether Daigo goes down willingly or with a bit of a fight, Sebastian makes sure he's settled before he moves from his spot by the window. He uses a hand to pull the dirty curtains closed, and then backtracks for a moment towards the bedroom door to make sure the chair against the knob is still holding.
Then, once he's satisfied nothing will come in without him waking, Sebastian crawls into bed after Daigo's miserable form.
For all that they'd been close only moments earlier, the thought of lying close to Daigo like this makes Sebastian's throat feel thick. It's less the possibility of something inappropriate as much as it is the fact he hasn't been close to another person in years. Hell, even when he saw his brother at Lily's death anniversary a few months earlier, Sebastian didn't have the heart to hug him "hello" like he used to before the accident.
He needs it, though, offers a voice in his head. He'd like to say the voice was his own, but lately anything good he comes up with sounds more like a pathetic shadow of everything glorious that Myra was. Even the way he reaches out to wipe blood beneath Daigo's lips with his thumb is a gesture brought about by whatever goodness his girls left behind with him.
Sebastian hasn't been "good" in a long time.
"We aren't gonna fit," he muses, once the red-black substance is mostly removed from Daigo's skin. It might have been a futile effort-- he's sure there's still blood inside the man's mouth, and he wonders idly if Daigo's been hurting himself in there, too-- but making him clean wasn't the point, anyway.
He touches Daigo's hip, pushing lightly. "Scoot."
This time, it's Sebastian who fits himself against Daigo's back-- it'll be easier for him to throw up on the floor if the need arose. Wrapping his arms around his waist feels like too much, though, so he settles for resting one hand on Daigo's forearm and guiding it to fold over his stomach.
Their fingers don't link, but the weight of Sebastian's hand atop Daigo's is firm. Don't do anything stupid, it suggests.
His voice is a low rumble in his chest. "This okay?"
