I see everyone's touch-starved Jamie Tartts and the queer-platonic Two Aces and the in-therapy Roy Kents and I love them all endlessly. I also raise you:
Roy Kent who's been half-starved for regular platonic intimacy for his entire life. He's in therapy and he's sad and he's lonely and he's angry all the time, but somehow he's tricked Jamie into thinking he is safe to be around. And then they share a bed sometimes, because life is hard.
Roy's mind probed at the situation like a tongue looking for a freshly missing tooth and finding a gap, an emptiness where the pain used to be. Still--
"I swear to God if I turn around and you're not wearing any pants," he warned.
Jamie broke into giggles behind him. The thought crossed his mind--if this is a fucking prank--but for once the heat of outrage didn't leap readily into his hands.
The bed dipped. Jamie scooted closer, and the unmistakable texture of trackies brushed against the back of Roy's legs.
"Nah. Decided I'm gonna sweat my arse off for you. Prick."
Roy grunted. "Then you can run the laundry tomorrow."
"Fuck that. If anything, you're making me breakfast in the morning in return for dragging your old man legs up the stairs. Now come here, you lug."
That was all the warning Roy had before a stupidly-tattooed arm wrapped around his midsection, reeling him backwards until he was pressed against Jamie's chest like his own personal teddy bear.
Fucking champagne and video games and mockery over his taste in furniture and now this. One of these days he was going to have to draw a line. He was the gaffer now--Jamie knew he was the gaffer now--and he owed it to the both of them to put some boundaries in place.
Jamie dropped his head against the back of Roy's neck, a soft and careful weight that was becoming increasingly familiar. Voice slackened with the hour, he murmured contentedly, "You're a fuckin' furnace. M' top half's not going t' get cold at all."
Boundaries were a lot to ask for with the clock pressing midnight. It could wait until morning.
In Beastmaster 1x09, Dar is infected by an evil spell that makes the animals attack him, and turns him against Tao. In the aftermath, as Tao takes care of him, Dar becomes aware of just how much their friendship means to him.
Type of whumps: multiple fights and various cuts, heavily breathing, upset, attacked and stabbed with a sword, pushed overboard into the water, coughing blood and losing consciousness, saved from drowing, staggering and on his knees with blood staining his clothes (look at the slow motion, on his right side), blurred vision and collapsed, carried unconscious, treated and patches all over his body, regaing consciousness, upset and feeling guilty, pushing himself too hard and heavily panting.
it also just dawned on me that this poor guy has rarely slept on a mattress that could fit all of him. from what i can tell, an iron bed frame could've been commissioned for his specifications but that doesn't account for all the time he spent traveling for the family. so, really, the only time he can stretch out is when he sleeps on the floor.