‘He’s been vetted. He’s working wonders on Charles’ capability to work wonders on himself.’
‘Yes, he’s changed my perspective on many things.’
‘Thanks for waiting.’ Alex bumps into him, his face and hands dripping water.
‘Did you use my shower?’
‘I tried to cleanse my soul of the general dishonest vibe.’
Alex snatches the bowl of popcorn from the table and goes back to the carpet.
‘Now spill, Ledwell!’ Phil slumps back down. ‘Who is he? Where did you find him? How did you understand you were hot for him? Answer the last one first.’
Charles smiles and sits beside him, his limbs going slack now that all tension has deserted him.
‘It’s hard to pinpoint. From the start, I had a thing for his accent. But in hindsight, it was perhaps my heteronormative interpretation of a strong obsession with his lips. They’re insane.’
‘What’s heteronormative again?’
‘What accent? Where is he from?’
‘I need a visual. Show us a picture.’
A couple of hours later, Loris’ insane lips are heatedly keeping Charles quiet as they make their way up the creaking stairs. A bit worried about such a stunt, Charles only loses himself in the kiss once they reach the landing, which is when Loris breaks it to open his door.
Charles takes off his beanie, askew on his head from the intensity of the greeting he received. ‘So, as I was trying to say, they were amazed by your drawing.’
‘Cool.’
‘Alex follows you on Instagram now.’
‘Great.’
‘You don’t care?’
‘Clearly it went well, and you seem happy, so I’m happy.’ Loris yanks him inside the flat. ‘But I’m hoping details can wait.’
He sheds his jacket and unwraps Charles’ scarf to start sucking on his neck.
‘Hold on… You didn’t reply to my text. About my dinner with Elsy’s parents?’
‘I sent a thumbs up,’ Loris mumbles, sending his ten fingers up Charles’ torso underneath his clothes.
‘It wasn’t really eloquent.’
Loris mumbles again, in French this time, his fiery eyes boring into Charles’. ‘Are you gonna make out with her?’
‘No! Or just a peck, pinched lips, in case we have to say goodbye in front of them. Nothing more.’
‘No problem, then. Do what you’ve got to do.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Anything else? Or can we act out the obscene scenario I’ve had in mind all shift long?’
Charles’ blood rushes south. ‘Yes, let’s do that. Let’s do your thing.’
He doesn’t need specifics. His imagination is already running wild, fuelled by the life-or-death urge Loris seems to be boiling with.
