Trinidad shifted over to make room for Castile and leaned back, feeling with every hair on his body Castile's nearness. Despite that, exhaustion took hold and he felt his shoulders start to relax in to the soft pallet under his back. He stared into the darkness overhead. How had he come to this moment? I'm about to break my vows. But it didn't feel momentous or wrong. Saint Michael and your army of Angels, guide me and protect me...
Castile clasped Trinidad's hand, obliterating all thought and prayer. His stomach twisted, but his fingers remembered what to do. They instinctively wound around the Wiccan's.
and half on QUENCHED:
Savannah Davis watched Ethan stride toward the office with his partner. He was tough to miss, with his white-blond hair glinting under the lights. But as he turned his head, she saw his expression was tight, the angles too sharp. His gaze was skittish. Whatever lay in that room had shaken him badly.
She heard a low comment from another female reporter-–complementing Ethan's athletic build from behind--and she smiled absently. She knew that build thoroughly, every inch of his skin from his calloused hands to his hard--
"Quit gloating," Dana, the on-duty photographer for their paper, muttered.
No, Trinidad and Castile are not about to have sex. But Savannah and Ethan are.