“Aftercare is not this…whateverthisis.”
They were once again strolling through town together. Scott ran a hand through his hair, pouted and slightly sucked in his cheeks, his most alluring look, but no one spared him a glance, not when he was walking next to Thomas.
“Are you okay?” Thomas asked.
“Of course I’m okay.” Scott frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“You keep pulling a face like you’re sucking a lemon.”
“Madonna swears by this pose.”
Thomas shook his head. “Maybe twenty years ago.” He sighed. “I thought maybe your chorizo was chaffing…”
“My chorizo is fine, thanks for asking.”
“This isn’t going to take long, is it?”
“Why?” Scott asked. “Have you got some place to be?”
“Well…no.”
Scott shrugged, holding up his hand in front of him to study his nails. “Mine should only take about thirty minutes.”
He was in desperate need of a manicure after the swan incident.
“Yours…”
“That’s what I said.”
Thomas stopped walking. “It kind of implies we’ll be there longer…”
“I’ve booked you in too.”
Thomas gaped. “What? Why?”
“Your nails need some loving.”
“Scott…”
Scott tried to link his arm with Thomas’s, but Thomas shoved him away. “This isn’t my thing.”
“No, it’s mine, but I want to share it with you. I’m a good friend like that.”
“We’re not friends,” Thomas hissed.
Scott pointed at the nail salon ahead. “It’s literally there.”
“I’m not happy about this.”
“You’re not happy about anything.”
Thomas glared. “I was quite happy watching you get fucked out of your mind…”
“Look, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave.”
“Now I know how your clients feel.”
“Fuck. You.”
