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“That is not how you put fondant on a cake,” Peyton said, frowning at the way they were wrapping it around.
“When have you ever put fondant on something?” Will asked absently. “And what do colours have to do with pie?”
“He’s not making a pie,” Peyton said, confused. “He’s making a cake.” One of those was not like the other, and it was a two-tiered cake that definitely didn’t look like a pie. Not even if you squinted.
Will either wasn’t listening or didn’t think it was worth a response because he mumbled, “Blue,” and then fell silent again.
Peyton craned his head around to see what Will was doing on his phone.
Will twisted, blocking his view as he beamed at him. “What’s my favourite animal?”
Peyton couldn’t help but smile back. “Why are you askingmethat?”
“Don’t you know?”
“It’s a giraffe. My question still stands. What are you doing?” Peyton lifted his knee and hooked his leg over Will’s hip, securing him in place.
“That’s not one of the options, though.”
“Options for what?” He skimmed his fingers down Will’s arm. He wrapped them around Will’s forearm and lifted it so he could see Will’s phone. “What kind of pie am I?” he read on the top of the screen. “What kind of pie are you?”
“I don’t know,” Will said patiently. “That’s why I’m trying to find out. I think it’s unfair that they only give four choices. None of them are my favourite. What if I don’t like any of them?”
“Is there an animal you don’t like?” he asked, looking at the options. Any of the four would work.
“Remember the kangaroo that flipped me off?”
“That wasoneanimal at a wildlife park, and he wasnotflipping you off. They can’t even do that.” They’d spent a long time on Google to find that out. “You can’t hate the whole species because of that one incident, which was all a figment of your imagination. You love kangaroos. Remember the joey you got to bottle feed?”
“There was no need to systematically destroy my argument so thoroughly like that.”
Peyton kissed Will’s temple, feeling the ends of his hair tickling him. “You couldn’t hate an animal if you tried.”
“Cassowaries,” Will said triumphantly. “I… think they’re unnerving.”
“That’s not exactly the same ashatingsomething,” Peyton said, his mouth curving up with warmth. Will was ridiculous in the best way. He settled back and wrapped an arm around Will to rest his hand on his collarbone and refocused back on the episode playing on his laptop. “And that’s not an option, so you couldn’t pick it even if you did.”
“Red panda.”
“You hate red pandas?” Peyton asked sceptically. That was a blatant lie. He’d held one during an “encounter” at a wildlife park a few years ago, and he’d cried.
“No, it’s an option, and I’m picking it.” Will tilted his head. “I don’t think this quiz is very accurate.”
“You don’tthink?” He could have told Will that.
“My life will be incomplete and meaningless if I don’t know what kind of pie I am, Peyton.”
Peyton chuckled and slid his hand down Will’s chest and rested it around his hip, slipping under his shirt to rub his skin. Will’s breath hitched, and Peyton’s entire focus shifted to the way that Will felt against him.
“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked huskily. He traced the skin above Will’s waistband, his breath quickening as heat spread in his belly.
“It—it’s loading.”
“Shift up for me,” Peyton whispered in his ear. Once Will was sitting up better and he could reach, Peyton palmed his dick through his pants, feeling his semi-hardness. “How long is it going to take? I don’t want your life to be incomplete.” He added pressure, and Will groaned, dropping his head back against Peyton’s good shoulder.
“Uh. I don—” Will cut off with a strangled moan.
Peyton licked the shell of Will’s ear as he massaged his hardening cock. “What kind of pie are you, Will?”
