The first period was half over by the time Milt emerged, in sweats and a tee shirt, his hair still damp. He took a seat next to Russ on the couch. “Who’s winning?” he asked.
Russ opened a beer and handed it to Milt. “No score yet.”
Russ sat back and let the chatter from the TV wash over him. He could feel himself just basking in Milt’s presence, in the fact that it was just the two of them. They had been working together a lot over the past weeks, but always surrounded by other people. This time alone was... relaxing in an unexpected way. But Russ was acutely aware of the distance between them. It wasn’t a lot of space, maybe eight inches, but it felt like too much. It would be better if they were slouched into each other. Russ caught himself picturing all the ways they could fit themselves together, and mentally shook himself.