Topside stumbled and braced himself on the window. Sinclair, who was starting to plate the chicken and rice dish he was just finishing (with a mix of ingredients from the farmer's market and ones that may or may not have been smuggled into the city), rushed over to guide him over to the dining table.
"You alright, sport?" Sinclair asked. "I saw you limpin' a lot earlier; maybe I shouldn't'a had you runnin' around the city so much…"
"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine. Just an old injury from an… accident I had when I was a teenager."
After dinner, Sinclair and Topside tried to figure out where Topside would be staying for the night. Topside said he was fine with staying on the couch since he was an unexpected guest; Sinclair was willing to give up his bed since Topside was in pain. They went back and forth like this until they decided just to share the bed.
"Sorry this is so awkward."
Topside responded, "I'm OK. Honestly. It's just…" He sighed, unconsciously cuddling up against Sinclair. "I just haven't shared a bed with anyone in eighteen months. Not since Mike died."
"Oh?"
"The kid next door. He was two days older than me. We were childhood sweethearts. My family took him in after his dad disowned him after finding out. His mom died when we were young, but she would've been alright with us. We were planning on… I guess coming down here together, only he got cancer that took him quickly. I finished the trip down here for him. Things… happened, so I doubt I can go back to the surface even if I want to."
"Would you want to go back?" Sinclair asked. "Rapture is… not the kinda place people would leave anytime soon. Utopia and all that."
"…No. I mean, my family was fine with me… being interested in another man, but there's nobody I want to go back to."
