"Well," he says very solemnly, "by that point I was already sucked into the trans cult, and I —"

He can't finish the sentence; he's laughing. 

Lev kisses him. "I feel like I ought to be able to make some sort of innuendo about sucking you into the trans cult but it's just not coming together."

Sasha kisses him and keeps laughing. "No, see, the way it works is that I suck you into the trans cult —" 

He flinches.

And then he smiles and says, "I'm not sure if that would work but it's worth a try someday!"

…he'll back off and go back to hugging him. "Sorry." 

"Don't be."

"I can tell when something makes you flinch." 

"Sorry. It's about me, it's not about you."

Cuddling? Cuddling. "I'd still rather not do things that make you flinch if I can avoid it." 

"Sorry. I'm used to people not paying as much attention as you do."

"— I also don't want you to pretend to be more okay than you are!" 

"It's fine, it's not a big deal."

"You wouldn't believe me if I said that." 

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Just — if I'm hurting you don't hide it? Please?" 

Sasha is always hurting him, because Sasha doesn't love him and never will and it makes him want to fall apart.

"Sure," he lies.

He tucks his head into Lev's shoulder and kisses his collarbone. 

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"You're the best decision I ever made." 

"Did you ever get a chance to think about where you want to go on vacation?"

"Mm. I have liked museums when I've had a chance to go to them and have heard good things about the ones in New York?" 

"We could go to New York and Paris and London and Washington D.C. and I don't know if there are any other places with good museums but we could go there too."

Kissing him is the only good enough response. 

Kissing!

"We can leave whenever you want," he says, "we can borrow Claire's private jet."