He tangles his hand into the front of Meyer's shirt as they kiss, holding on tight. He feels like the moment he lets go will be the moment of giving up, of falling back into that black abyss of nothing, so he keeps clinging real fucking tight. His knuckles are turning white from it, nailing rending the cloth under them.

But he's still falling, no matter how hard he holds on. Meyer turns to vapor under his hands and he can't hold on any longer, slipping through him and down, down, down.