The first night of Sandburg's temporary -- very --  stay, Jim's about to get into bed, naked like always, when downstairs, Sandburg coughs. He sighs and grabs a pair of shorts. Guest. Right.

He feels better, less exposed, but they bunch up every time he moves, working into the crease of his ass, and when he wakes in the morning he's got a deep groove on one hip where the elastic's dug in.

It's a pain.

And only postponing the inevitable, but there're a lot of restless nights and extra laundry before he figures that out and gets to sleep naked again.


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