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"Yeah, why not?" he said in response to Melvin's soft 'you think'. "Since comin' here I've seen more strange stuff than expected. Nothing's impossible." Until it was proven impossible. And Horace wasn't one for testing theories, but the only rebuttal he'd gotten from others about Rin was 'no' and 'are you crazy'. If ******** trees could walk right up to his window and stare at his, brush root-gnarled fingers across his cheek - why couldn't she come back? Here, it seemed so, so easy to believe six impossible things before breakfast.

Friends? Horace's hand paused on the other man's back, then resumed the slow, thoughtful circles. "I-if it's okay with you, we can be." Horace felt like a bashful fourth grader. asking some other kid to pinky promise that they'd be friends forever. "I mean, I think of you as my friend n'all, but..." But if Melvin didn't, this would be just a bit awkward.

Horace blinked for a moment, then grinned. A big, sloppy, drunk grin. His arms went around the other man as well. Horace needed friends; Melvin needed friends - it was a match made in drunk heaven.

"You're a good guy, Melvin." His voice was a little slurred, but sincere. "You ever need anything, you can just ask me, okay."

He hugged him harder. Then, Horace realized, the other man wasn't letting go. "Melvin, I can't move." There may have been the tiniest pout in his voice. Horace patted the other man on the head.

"Your hair's so sofffftt." Horace looked down at his hand before grinning back at Melvin. "I'm always open for hugs from a friend. From you." Then he too, tilted his head back, still smiling. Friends were great.

"Really really," Horace said before jumping a little when a hand touched him. That hand, of course, was Melvin, petting his hair. Horace's hair was not soft like Melvin's, but sleek and shiny and thick. When it was longer and he had a full head of it, Horace used to get headaches from the weight. He leaned over slightly to allow Melvin better access.

"S'it adequate?"

"You smelled me? But.. but-" Horace's mouth popped open in outrage. "I didn't smell you! Lean over." And then he crossed his arms and stared, stone-faced, at Melvin. The effect was entirely ruined by a chuckle he couldn't quite swallow.

"Smelling's alright!" He said airily. (Maybe when he was sober, he'd think it a bit weird, but maybe not.) "I hope I didn't smell bad, though." He frowned briefly, then shrugged. Horace leaned over too, placing a hand on Melvin's shoulder to steady himself. Still, instead of a delicate sniff, he leaned too far and ended up with a nose smooshed into Melvin's hair. With a 'whoops', Horace leaned back a little bit and, acting as though he were being very proper and simply scenting some tea, he sniffed Melvin.

The other man's fluffy hair smelled nice, like flowers and soap and, well, kind of antiseptic-y. Most of all, he smelled clean. And clean was a thing Horace could get behind, though there was something to be said for dirty. "You're a clean man, Melvin," Horace intoned, hand still resting on the Lifer's shoulder. He wondered if Melvin ever sweated or got truly dirty.

As Melvin leaned back, Horace hastily removed his hand, afraid that he had offended the other man. Horace was, in general, the type of guy who touched people in passing, light things along their wrists, shoulder pats, head ruffles. No everyone liked that. He did brighten a bit as he realized Melvin had said he smelled nice.

"For bodywash I just use whatever. My hair, though... " He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. Horace was just a little vain about it and a little embarrassed that he was so vain. "I use a seperate hair soap and confditioner. The soap is seaweed soemthing or other and the conditioner is Rusk." His conditioner had mostly been chosen because it smelled nice, like flowers and sun.

"Why - what do you use?" Horace was surprised that he was actually kind of, well, interested. Melvin smelled good.