They're being careful. Starting out slow, touching their hands to one anothers, palm to palm. Their fingers intertwine and when nothing happens he leans forward and captures her mouth in a kiss.

She's not sure if this is really happening or if it's another cruel but sweet dream and she decides that if it is she never wants to wake up, because if she does, they'll never be here again. She's denied herself sleep even on the rare occasions she needs it because she doesn't want to dream about this and wake up sad and lonely and alone.

His hands and mouth move from her hands to her face, his hands cupping her face and his mouth trailing kisses from her forehead to her cheek to her mouth to her neck and then back to her mouth again.

She wonders if she should do more but he seems to be more eager to please her than to be pleased by her and he undresses her slowly and carefully, running his hands all over her, as if daring the virus to come back, and she holds her breath, still afraid she'll wake up in the next breath she takes and this will all have been her subconscious playing a very mean trick on her.

He notices her concern and guilt and frowns, then moves to whisper one word into her ear.

"Breathe."

She finally does and it's not a dream like it's been so many times before and they kiss and touch and hold one another until the sun comes up and they fall asleep, finally sated after nearly two years of unbridled passion are finally consummated, in each others arms.