Here's a small excerpt of Kenny and Lane's nights:
Lane stretched, his spine making a chilling CRACK as he let out a yawn. His hair was still wet from his late-night shower, despite the numerous chides from Kenny that he would catch a cold. It was summer – he would be fine. He knew how much Kenny worried about his rather fragile health, even though his dance with sepsis was years ago. Kenny. He sighed dreamily leaning against the backboard, watching the way his partner’s muscles rippled and moved exactly as he folded and put away the last of the laundry. “Don’t you have anything to say today?” he broke the silence, looking up at Lane with the softest gaze. He might have, but at that moment his head had emptied. He shook his head, spreading his arms and beckoning Kenny over. Usually, he’d waste away an hour after they got into bed, yapping and gossiping about all the whatnot under the sun, and Kenny would listen patiently. Some days, it would transform into flirtatious banter and some days…something more. “That’s…a first” he joked as he melted on top of Lane, wrapping his strong arms around Lane’s slight waist. He was so warm.
“Shut up” Lane scoffed, scratching the back of Kenny’s head with his long fingernails. He had only wasted words. He smiled, watching Kenny’s chest push his torso slowly up and down, the expression on his face peaceful and content. “Moj milacik” he sighed, adjusting himself under the weight so he may lay down, “I ask too much of you”
