Marcus lifts one hand and curls it in the collar of Dan's shirt, holding onto him, pulling him in, anchoring him. Or maybe anchoring himself. Dan's mouth is warm and Marcus feels, strangely not for the first time, a sense of peace he's not sure he's ever known.

Not even in the most satisfying moments of exorcism has he known anything like this.

"I hope it fits," he says, then laughs against Dan's mouth. "I didn't even think about that, I just saw it and bought it."