[ he chuckles under his breath when they nestle in closer, dropping his hand to rub their back comfortingly. Their thin arms feel so warm around his neck. Lupin's going to miss that, too. ]

Right? I told you - it's not so bad.

[ Well -- he did intend to help them get some rest, but having them get tired out via crying definitely wasn't part of the plan. In the end, however, Lupin thinks maybe it was a good thing that they were able to cry; they rarely let themself express that much vulnerability, if ever, but repressing everything like they do is a recipe for disaster. He can forgive himself for making them shed some tears if it was only because they felt something so strongly they couldn't tamp it down. ]

Tiring, though - that, I can agree with. [ he rests his head against theirs a little bit. ] All worn out?

No, not quite. I've got 25 years of experience being human under my belt.

[ and he's a high-energy guy, besides; if anything, getting to be this intimate for once with Cairngorm has him sort of keyed up. But, of course, he's got no intention of expressing that. Lupin shifts his arms a little to support them a bit more. They might be worried about having all their weight on him, but the reality is that they barely weigh anything the way they are now, and he looks perfectly comfortable letting them stay on top of him. (Actually, he doesn't want to let them go at all.) ]

But I don't mind if you rest. [ he closes his eyes, too, urging his heartbeat to slow down a little. ] I'll stay right here with you.

[ ah. he'd been thinking about that anyway, to be honest, but he didn't want to jostle them around, and he didn't want them to start stressing about being heavy or whatever else. The words are a bit ticklish against his neck; Lupin breathes out another laugh, suppressing a small shiver in his skin. ]

Of course.

[ he holds them against him a little tighter as he shifts his position, carefully avoiding knocking over any rapidly-cooling cider and fruitcake as he brings his feet up. Cairngorm's gifted bed from home is a lot bigger than the rickety cots most of them have to use; he doesn't have to move much more than that to be able to lean back until his head's resting on their small pile of pillows and Cairngorm's resting on him. It feels so natural that Lupin can almost forget they usually weigh ten times as much as he does.

Almost. But he remembers, and that means he'd probably be better off resting next to them than under them, just in case the town suddenly decides to cut this human thing short. With a small, reluctant sigh, he unwinds his arms from around them, gently placing his hands on their shoulders to urge them up. He'd happily be their pillow if he could, but... ]

[ they might not dare to do so, but he does it for them without a moment's hesitation, slipping his fingers through theirs and closing his hand around their smaller one. They don't need to say a word. He wants to stay, too. Lupin is kind to most everyone he knows, and cares about everyone here in some way or another, but he doesn't look at anyone but Cairngorm the way he is now - immeasurably fond, like they're the only one in the world. Right now, his mind has given way so thoroughly to his heart that they may as well be.

(He's supposed to leave them behind? It's just unfathomable.)

And even with the potential threat of an exponential weight increase, he can't help but turn onto his side, too, and quietly fold his other arm around them, almost protectively, closing the space between them just enough to let his legs brush against theirs. As long as they're not on top of him, it should be fine. He's willing it to be fine. He doesn't care if he has a few bruises when he wakes up. ]

You know, I think I do feel a catnap coming on, [ he murmurs with a little smile. ]