“Clothes come first.”
“And Speedos. You can’t forget those. In fact, I think you should do a fashion show for us,” Auggie says.
“That’s not going to happen. If you want to see me wearing Speedos, you’ll have to come to my swimming competitions.”
“Please?” Auggie begs.
“No.”
“Please?”
Casey rolls his eyes. “I’m not changing my mind.”
Auggie pouts. “Spoilsport.”
I laugh, shake my head, and point at the kitchen door. “Do you want to snuggle for a bit?”
Auggie nods. “Screw cooking. I’ll pay for takeaway.”
Casey releases him, and we move to the sofa to cuddle.
“Does this count as our first argument?” Auggie asks.
“It was more of an emotional flashpoint,” I reply.
“Unless you want to get that milestone out of the way, in which case it can be our first argument,” Casey says.
Auggie sighs. “I don’t want to argue with you. Ever.”
“It will happen. We’re not perfect,” I say.
“Speak for yourself. I’m perfect.”
I twist so I can kiss him deeply. “You’re mostly perfect.”
“Mostly?”
I cup his jaw. “Yup. Mostly.”
“What about me?” Casey asks.
I lean across to peck his lips. “You’re mostly perfect too.”
“We are so sappy,” Auggie groans.
“Maybe. But do you know what?” I ask.
“What?”
“I get horny when we’re sappy.” I straddle Auggie’s lap and kiss him again, deeper than before, our tongues playing with one another as our lips fuse.
“Want me to go and get takeaway?” Casey asks. When we don’t reply, because we’re too busy kissing, he stands and points at the door. “I’ll go get takeaway.”
I grab his T-shirt and pull him into a closed-mouth kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too. And you.” Casey kisses Auggie. “Chinese?”
I kiss him again. “That would be great.”
