“Laertes, you should know that I…” the king cannot finish a sentence that will hurt them both whether he says it or keeps it in, but Laertes knows right then that he wants to hear it, and sooner because they might not get a later.

“Listen,” he says, twining their fingers together as true tender, “I need to be alone for a few hours because there’s just too much, but I wanted this, I liked it, and I’ll find you again so we can talk about what it all means, okay?” Claudius nods, but there’s a panicked look in his eyes, so Laertes does the only thing he can think of, which is to raise their hands and press his lips to each fingertip in turn before they each bring a fist to their chests as a farewell salute.