Shane woke to a heat at his back that was almost too hot, and the uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling in one arm that meant there hadn’t been enough room in the night. Luke’s arm was locked over his waist; the other was under his neck, the hand clumsily tangled with Shane’s on the pillow, and the warm flow and ebb of air said that Luke’s nose was pressed against Shane’s shoulder blade.
Shane felt cocooned between Luke and the heavy duvet and the thick pillows. He felt wrapped up and somehow safe, even though it was just a bed and a boyfriend and the rest of the world lurked beyond the closed bedroom door.
But the feeling persisted, and he brushed his knuckles against Luke’s palm and closed his eyes again. He could hear dishes downstairs. A high voice, high enough that it was probably
