Jonathan Sims

John blinks, and then his expression softens. He'd anticipated Martin needing some assistance; knowing he just wants company is an endearing surprise. Maybe it shouldn't be — 'miserable' and 'lonely' do tend to rub shoulders, and the last time Martin was ill, the fog had crept in the moment John's back was turned. But even without that nascent risk, John wouldn't have been opposed to the idea.

"Of course," he replies, giving Martin's hand a light squeeze and then drawing him towards the bathroom.

The tub isn't too full, but John has the belated realization that Martin will displace more water than he did as a child, and gives the water level an assessing frown before reaching over to turn off the tap.

"Right," he murmurs, turning back to Martin in the ensuing silence. "Do you want me to...?" He trails off, not awkward so much as uncertain. Of all the intimacies they've shared, full nudity has never been one of them. There's no reason to fuss over it, as far as John is concerned, and perhaps it would be silly to... what, avert his eyes? But it's Martin's comfort that matters most, given the situation, so he adjusts: "What would you like?"