“I absolutely do not.”
“You do,” I insist. “Your soul wants it. Your dignity is just being loud.”
He laughs and turns his head away, shoulders hunching like that’ll save him. “I’m a grown man.”
“Debatable.”
Before he can protest again, I slide off my stool, step in close, and hook an arm loosely around his shoulders. Not tight. Not aggressive. Just enough to make my point.
“Oh for God’s sake,” he says, already laughing. “What are you doing?”
“It is just for your best,” I reply. “Hold still.” He is a lot taller than me but, when he is sitting down, I have a chance. A small chance.
He squirms, laughing harder now, hands coming up instinctively to try to fend me off without actually pushing me away. I tighten my grip a fraction, my forearm warm against his chest.
“Open,” I say. “Like a good boy.”
He snorts. “Do not say it like that.”
“Open,” I repeat, cheerfully relentless.
“This is not fair.”
“This is care.”
“In what universe?”
“In mine. Now stop being difficult.”
He shakes his head, still laughing, breathless now, and finally, between gasps, he gives up and opens his mouth.
I do not waste the opportunity.
I spray. Generously. A frankly unnecessary amount.
Cream goes everywhere. Mouth. Lips. A bit on his nose because that’s just how this is going to go.
He chokes, swallows, then laughs so hard he has to bend forward, one hand bracing on the counter, the other scrubbing at his face.
“You’re unbelievable,” he says, voice rough with laughter.
“You loved it,” I say, smug.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
I slide back onto my stool beside him, reclaim the can, and tilt my head back for another spray of my own, the nozzle spluttering the last of the cream.
We sit there chewing and swallowing in companionable silence for a moment, both of us a bit ridiculous, both of us breathing easier.
He wipes his mouth, then glances sideways at me. “You realise if anyone ever finds out about this, I’ll have to move countries.”
“Relax,” I say. “Your secret’s safe. I’m very discreet about my medical interventions.”
He huffs a laugh, then sobers slightly, gaze dropping to the counter.
“Thank you,” he says again, quieter this time.
