The first touch of his hand on Milt’s bare arm was electric. His hand clamped tighter as Russ felt awareness shoot through him. Milt put a hand on Russ’s shoulder as if to push him away. Russ could feel the heat coursing from Milt’s palm through his shirt. Russ went to pull it off of him, but somehow they wound up pressed closer together, grappling in some kind of sick parody of a dance.