Ooh, the quote game. I love this game.

In the dark, with previews flashing across the screen and Blair's hand reaching for popcorn, Jim allowed himself to feel almost what he wanted to feel. *Almost* was the nature of his relationship with Blair. He wanted something like this, but better. Not much better, because this was damn good, but more honest. This was so close, though, in its imperfect way; they were close, Blair's arm moving across his lap, Jim tipping the bag, neither of them intent on the other but with gaze to screen, the motion of Blair's fingers in the popcorn carrying in tiny shifts through the bag, the clumsy rhythms of foraging transmitted to Jim's thigh, the smell of butter and Blair's nearness, nearness like a date. He could have put his arm around Blair's shoulders, but would never dare.
*
By the time the movie ended, their fingers were tightly entwined, a cramp of anxious need from Blair that Jim responded to without thinking. He was not aroused, but desire suffused his body. The death he'd witnessed left him cold, but Blair's knuckles were like rough jewels wedged against his own.

A Long Time Looking, (http://www.squidge.org/archive/archive/1_2000_firsts/longtime.html) by Anna S, "The Sentinel." (eliade).