Fruity Drinks
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“It’s impossible to know what any relationship is like unless you’re in it.” And sometimes not even then, he thinks. “It’s like a foreign country. But yours looks nice."
Paul gives him that wicked, thrilling, terrifying grin-and-eyebrow combo of his. “And you’re fantasizing about a frolic on the beach?”Series
- Part 1 of Fruity Drinks
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“This is like the start to a cheesy porno,” Flake says, teeth chattering. “The kind that ends with rolling around on a bearskin rug.”
“I think I could help, there,” says Till.
“Well, we did always say we’d love to have you visit the place in the off-season,” Paul says.Series
- Part 2 of Fruity Drinks
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“Here,” Paul says, holding something out. It’s a little paper parasol, pink, the kind that comes with a tropical drink and a wedge of pineapple. He slides it open and tucks it behind Till’s ear like a flower. “Welcome.” And then they both giggle at him with broad, warm grins.
Till blinks, a slow stupid smile pulling his cheeks up under Flake’s hands. “Hi.”
“Hi to you, too,” Flake says quietly, and kisses him softly again.Series
- Part 3 of Fruity Drinks