It helps, though. It always helps. Knowing that here, he's not alone. He doesn't have to figure it out by himself. Someone here trusts him, supports him, even loves him. He has to believe this Steve means it. His dumb smile every time B kisses him says he means it. The way he'd said you're it for me, now even before B got up the nerve to kiss him. Maybe one person isn't usually enough, but that's more than he's had anywhere else. And he can build up more people here. He can. He's not entirely forgotten how to be friendly.

He finally gets himself back under control, his head tucked under Steve's chin and his arm curled under that, fingers hooked into Steve's shirt, like a child. But it's okay. If Steve had a problem with him losing control over his emotions like this, he wouldn't have stuck around this long. B loses the plot a lot, after all.

Still, he finds himself saying, "Sorry," anyway, in an undertone.