[2023]

He never slept better than he did right there. With his head on Trent's arm, or with Trent on his arm if that was the way they happened to fall asleep.

He woke up first, he often did. He didn't plan on moving anytime soon. He loved moments like these.

Trent was still breathing slowly on his arm, still sleeping quietly. Those nights were the absolute best. When they both got the peaceful rest they needed.

Even though he knew it was unlikely, given their occupation, he hoped he would be able to grow old together with the man on his arm. Matching rocking chairs, a wrap around porch, a couple of dogs. He dreamt of that.

But they were both middle aged men in a profession where the life expectancy was far lower than for the rest of the population. And neither of them knew how to quit.

But dreams were still good to have.