For Quill--Singin' in the Rain

The car breaks down on a stretch of winding road that leads up into the hills, and they sit in the shade it casts while they wait for some passing motorist to drive by. It's a hot day, and it's just the two of them, the road empty and silent, but Cos is still surprised when Don slumps against him and puts his hand over Cos's.

"You should get rid of this old thing," Don mumbles, eyes half-closed. "Let me buy you a new one."

"Nah. I like the old girl." And that's not entirely true, because Cos knows his car is more trouble than its worth, always breaking down. But he bought it, with his own money--money he'd scrimped and saved for months, setting aside a dollar here, a dollar there. It is his, in a way that very little in his life actually is. It is his and Don has nothing to do with it, and Cos likes that.

There's so much of Don that Cos can't have. It's nice to have something of his own.