Later they lay together on the couch. Quin was thin enough that, when he scooted over toward the edge, Jerry fit snugly between him and the back of the sofa. Jerry’s arm around his chest and leg draped over his hips kept Quin from rolling off onto the floor. An old afghan was draped over the sofa, which Quin snagged and pulled down over them. It grew warm and cozy beneath the blanket, and Jerry buried his nose in the hair at the base of Quin’s neck. The arm not around Quin was under his head, and Jerry had yet to tire of letting his fingers roam through that soft, thick hair.
After a long stretch of silence, broken only by the faint tick of a clock in the kitchen, Jerry stirred. “Not bad for a rookie,” he joked.
Quin snickered as he burrowed back against Jerry. “I have to admit, you stil
