Cougar's words have him rolling onto his side properly, tucking an arm beneath his head so he can look at him, even though he can't see jack shit in this terrible lighting. Living somewhere without light pollution is the weirdest fucking thing. "I know, buddy," he breathes, reaching out to rap his knuckles against Cougar's breastbone. "Me too."

He huffs out a mirthless laugh. "Fat lot of good I'm doing," he mutters, a little bitter about how badly he's doing. Cougar is in a bad mood, still, and now they're both unhappy.