He took a breath and held it, then slowly stretched out his pinky finger until it just grazed the side of D’s hand, a tiny stroke of tentative contact. D didn’t withdraw; instead, his hand flinched a little closer. Emboldened, Jack covered D’s hand with his own; D turned his palm up and their fingers slid together, interlacing and fitting against each other like they’d been waiting for nothing else but the chance to do so.
