ME: That’s classified info.
DACEN: How do I earn secret clearance to get that classified info?
How to earn that info? Oh, the possibilities. Mouth to dick. Hand to dick. Dick to dick. Ass to dick. The possibilities are endless and the thought of each of them makes a noticeable bulge pop up in my pants. I palm myself and then pick up my phone again.
ME: I have a few ideas.
DACEN: Me too. I could organize your closet, put your clothes in ROY G BIV order.
ME: No idea what that means.
DACEN: You’d have the second most organized and aesthetically pleasing closet of the entire soccer team.
ME: Because THAT’S my dream.
DACEN: I KNEW IT!
My stomach flips over and I don’t realize I’m grinning until I glance to the side and see my reflection in the mirror propped against the wall. I don’t know what it is about Dacen that makes my grouchy ass smile and grin, but it makes my cheeks hurt. I’m not used to it anymore. It’s not like I never smile, but smirks and glares are more my speed and have been for the last however many years. Since Dad died, really, and even more so since the lady who birthed me and kept me alive for about a decade decided to take her selfish ass and as much of Dad’s money as she could grab and leave.
So glares? Scowls? Yeah, those types of expressions are what I’m comfortable with. They’re safe and easy and keep annoying people and their stupid sympathetic stares away. You glare and frown at someone long enough and they eventually give up and leave you alone. Point is, I’m a little rusty.
ME: You caught me. Come over? I’m bored.
The bubbles start, stop, start, stop until finally, a message comes through.
DACEN: Are you still joking?
I ignore the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest as I type out my response.
ME: About the first thing, yes. About the second and third things, no.
DACEN: Do I get that secret clearance if I come over?
ME: Hmm…
DACEN: Well?
I sit back and wait, and sure enough, his next text comes through in record time.
DACEN: Do I?? Don’t leave me hanging, Ryne. I need that classified intel. You’re stingy with your smiles, so if I caused one then I need to know.
Stingy with my smiles? That’s a pretty accurate description. I smile a lot more since Dacen, but yeah. Then there’s Dacen, whose dimples have been burned into my retinas from day one. No matter how much I blink or try to clear my head, there he and his dimples are. I’m fascinated by them, which is maybe why I keep poking him in the face like some kind of creeper. And I realize how stupid this sounds, but when he’s not happy there’s a part of me, a part that keeps getting stronger no matter how many times I try to kick it away, that wants to find a way to bring his dimples back. It’s confusing. Especially when I’m the one to make them disappear in the first place.
ME: I don’t know, secret clearance is pretty hard to earn.
DACEN: So basically you want me to come over and entertain you like some kind of court jester because you’re bored, and I don’t even earn clearance. Rude. You can forget about ROY G BIV.
ME: I don’t know who the fuck Roy is, but if you come over I’ll make it worth your while.
DACEN: Tacos?
An unexpected laugh bursts out. I can one hundred percent picture him right now, how his eyes brighten and he sits up straighter at the thought of tacos. I’ve never met someone so obsessed with them. It’s fucking adorable. Adorable. Not a thought or word I’d ever imagined using, and yet this is the second time I’ve thought it in relation to Dacen.
ME: I was thinking orgasms, but if you’d rather have tacos I’m sure I can arrange that.
DACEN: nhvkjhgb
ME: Huh?
