"...You look anything but fine," he says, but he hugs Mark again anyway.
"You don't know, do you," he murmurs, shivering. "You don't know what you were going to say... maybe you weren't. Maybe I was imagining things."
Stalas thinks back to how he felt in that moment, before concern interrupted.
"...oh."
He is quiet for a moment.
Mark cringes slightly, but makes no attempt to break away from the circle of his arms.
He collapses, bursting into tears. If he didn't have Stalas to lean on, Stalas to hold him up, he'd sink straight to the floor.
"You know," he ventures after a minute, "normally I would think it was a bad sign that you found it this upsetting..."
Mark giggle-sniffles and shakes his head. "Nooo," he mumbles into Stalas's chest. "I like it."
"That's better. Sort of," says Stalas. "Do you and your towel want to come sit on the bed with me again?"
And they and their towels make it safely back to the bed, where they can all be soft and cuddly together. Soft and cuddly and slightly damp.
At which point, after enjoying the quiet for a few long unhurried breaths, he says:
"I want to go back to Barrayar with you."
"Yes, well, fuck him. He'll get over it. He's made it clear enough that he wants me in his family; if he kicks up a fuss about the circumstances, I can always go over his head."
"Also your mother, if I understand the situation... and this will work?"
"Oh yes. I only don't want to call her that yet because I haven't met her. I've heard enough to know."
"Well... I'm not opposed to trying," says Stalas. "I'd miss you, if you didn't."