Holland idly watches as Kell falls into sleep. His brow is relaxed, face soft, and Holland is surprised by the urge to protect him. Only this time he wanted it not by pushing him away. He wanted to keep him close, safe.

One hand absently traced a wave of red, the shell of an ear, forward over a cupids bow...

Sometime later, Holland awoke to a knocking on the door. No one would be able to get in but it didn't mean they wouldn't find a way.

Nudging Kell, he murmured, "Wake up baby boy, the door," then slipped away to pull on his clothes--at least the pieces that made the most sense. Perhaps he had come and stayed for conversation?