Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.

Warning: This story still contains slash. And drug use. And violence. And sexual situations. This isn't going to change as those four things are my favorite things.

Pairings: You'll find out.

Getting Back Together Again
Epilogue II: FUCK or Funny, I Used to Care Kinda

Skittery stretched out in bed, inwardly flinching when he realized Itey had never gone home for the night. It wasn't that he didn't love the guy (he did; he could admit that now) it was just so exhausting loving the guy. It was a lot more work than he was used to.

Itey mumbled in his sleep and Skittery dutifully rolled over and curled his arm around him. He buried his head in the back of his boyfriend's neck before greeting him. "Hey, babe. You want some breakfast?"

"Bacon," Itey grumbled, rolling over and burrowing himself in Skittery's chest. "And coffee. Eggs. Scrambled. And coffee."

Skittery smiled. It didn't matter how annoyed he was; a sleepy Itey was utterly adorable. He was so cute he made Skittery want to puke, if he was being honest. "You realize you said coffee twice, right?"

"Mmhm," Itey replied, his eyes still closed. "Want double coffee."

"What the hell's 'double coffee'?" Skittery asked, affection in his voice as he sat up. "I'm not bringing you two cups of coffee, dude. I'm the one that's going to have to wash the cups, you know."

"No one should ever have to wash shit," Itey allowed, his eyes still closed. "Hashbrowns sound good."

Skittery frowned, but didn't say anything as he hid his sigh. "So, bacon, scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, and two cups of coffee," he repeated back. Jesus, this was going to be a lot of dishes. "Alright, coming up," he said, jumping out of bed and kissing Itey on the forehead. "Stay here. I'll bring it up."

Itey sat up and blinked as soon as he heard the door click shut. He looked around him, happy to see that all the bunkbeds around him were empty. Spot had given Skittery a room with upper-tier Bronx boys, which meant that by seven o'clock in the morning all of Skittery's roommates were already out training.

Itey had to admit, he certainly didn't hate it.

He looked towards the closed door that Skittery had just left from. He wasn't exactly sure how much he didn't hate that , though.

Skittery had never cooked for him before, and he'd certainly never brought it to him in bed. Shit, Itey had been lucky if he could talk Skitts into being the one to order a god damn pizza. But then the break up happened, and Sarah happened, and getting back together happened, and Skitts hadn't stopped waiting on him hand and foot since.

It might be nice if Itey knew that Skittery was genuine and not doing everything out of a sense of guilt. But he could tell how tense Skittery got every time he was asked to do something.

And there was no talking to him, Itey knew that well enough. Once Skittery had his mind set on something there was no talking him out of it, the stubborn little shit.

But that just meant that Itey was going to have to break him.

Bumlets raised his eyebrow as he walked into the kitchen and saw Skittery on his knees giving Itey a foot rub. "What the fuck am I walking into?" he breathed out, not able to take his eyes off Skittery. "Are you okay?" He put a hand to his head. "Shit, am I okay?"

"Shut up, Bumlets," Skittery snapped with a glare, not bothering to look up from his job. "No one asked for an opinion from the peanut gallery."

Bumlets frowned at him. "Are you serious right now?" he asked before looking at Itey. "Is he serious right now?"

Itey shrugged, glancing down at Skittery quickly before looking back up at Bumlets. "He's gone fucking crazy," he mouthed at Bumlets, his eyes wide as he looked back down at Skitts.

Bumlets shook his head before walking over and tapping Skittery in the side with his foot. "Skitts, you're being fucking nuts right now. What are you doing?"

"Fuck off," Skittery answered, still glaring at Itey's feet as he continued to rub them. "I'm taking care of my boyfriend," he scowled. "Because we're in love, so go suck a dick."

Bumlets blinked at him before looking back at Itey. "What the fuck?" he breathed out, eyes wide.

Itey lifted his feet away from Skittery. "Skitts, baby, you know what would be really terrific right now? That homemade lemonade from that corner store by my house. You know the one I'm talking about?"

Skittery looked up with a frown. "You mean that store all the way in Manhattan? Who's lemonade tastes like sugar water? That the one you're talking about?"

Itey burst into a giant smile. "You do know the one I'm talking about!" he gushed. "I know it sounds crazy, but I have such a craving for it."

Skittery clenched his teeth together and sighed out through his nose before forcing on a smile. "Sure, baby," he said, getting up and giving Itey a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be right back," he promised before heading out of the room.

"You're the best, babe!" Itey shouted at his retreating back. "Love you! Thanks!" He turned towards Bumlets as soon as he was sure his boyfriend was out of earshot. "He's gone completely god damn fucking nuts, dude."

"You're the one letting him rub your god damn feet," Bumlets pointed out before pulling a chair out from the table and sitting across from his friend. "I think you're both completely fucking nuts."

Itey put his face in his hands. "He won't cut this shit out," he complained. "It's all 'yes, dear', 'I love you, babe,' 'Whatever you want, honey'. It's fucking disgusting."

Bumlets smiled at his friend before raising an eyebrow. "Don't appreciate an agreeable Skitts, huh?"

"It's creepy!" Itey burst out. "Like, really fucking creepy! And you can tell he doesn't mean a word he's saying because he's always clenching his teeth or looking like he's going to kill someone! I think he's doing it just to spite me!"

"You think Skitts keeps telling you he loves you to spite you?" Bumlets asked back, raising an eyebrow. "I'm starting to think it's you who's gone god damn fucking crazy."

"See?!" Itey exclaimed, pointing at Bumlets. "It's working! He's making people think I'm fucking crazy! This is all a part of his plan!"

"You're the only one making yourself sound crazy, Itey," Bumlets replied. "Have you ever thought that maybe he's doing all this shit because he doesn't want to lose you again?"

Itey frowned, staring at the floor for several seconds before look back up at Bumlets with a determined face. "No way. Not his M.O."

"Neither is telling someone that he loves them," Bumlets pointed out, placing his hand on Itey's knee as he stood up. "This is all new for him. You could be taking advantage of him without knowing it."

Itey's frown deepened as he watched Bumlets walk away, the guilt flooding into him.

"I'm totally fucking with him," Skittery explained with a smile before biting into a cheeseburger. "Little bastard's milking the shit out of it, too," he continued around the food in his mouth.

Blink and Mush shared a look before looking back across the booth at Skittery.

Blink cleared his throat. "Didn't you and Itey just patch things up? Do you really think it's a good idea to-" He looked around the restaurant before leaning across the table and whispering, "... fuck with him right now?"

Skittery rolled his eyes. "Exactly the point! What the hell do you expect me to do? Itey wants this romantic fucking relationship or whatever, and that's not me. Except I'm not exactly in a position to be making demands, am I? So, I gotta convince him that a sweet, loving relationship is just as gross and annoying as I know it is, so he'll stop wanting one, and we can go back to how things used to be. And that, my friends," he said, waving around his burger, "is brilliance." He took a bite out of it, grinning broadly.

Blink and Much shared another look before turning back to Skittery.

Much cleared his throat. "Skitts, not all relationships have to be the same. And you shouldn't have to trick Itey into having the type of relationship you want. You should talk to him, and-"

"Please," Skittery replied, pointing at them with his cheeseburger as he rolled his eyes. "Not everyone can be all sappy and heartfelt like you guys. Itey and I don't work like that. And we certainly don't sit down once a day with the intention of talking about our feelings."

Blink sighed as he wrapped his hand around Mush's underneath the table. "Skittery, you can have whatever kind of relationship you want, but whatever type you decide to have needs communication."

"You guys are like broken fucking records," Skittery griped, finally letting his burger fall to his plate. "'Talk to him, Skitts'," he mocked. "'Tell him how you feel, Skitts,' 'Prove you love him, Skitts', 'Be grateful he forgave you, Skitts'." He rolled his eyes. "I'm getting pretty sick of the whole thing, to be honest. I can do whatever the hell I want, but I gotta do it in a certain way, right? Sounds pretty hypocritical to me."

"Of course you can do whatever you want and however you want to do it," Mush allowed immediately. "Blink and I just want to see you happy," he explained as Blink nodded along beside him.

Skitery slouched in his chair. "I'm never going to have what you guys have," he said in a small voice. "I don't think Itey and I will ever be that insync again."

"You can be," Mush offered, "but it starts with honesty. How do you think Itey would feel if he knew you were manipulating him?"

Skittery leaned forward with wide eyes. "Well, Jesus, he can't find out, can he? Do you even know what manipulation is ? You can't go around just telling people you're doing it, or it'll never work! What's wrong with you?"

Blink pinched the bridge of his nose. "The point is to not manipulate him, Skitts. That's where the whole trust thing comes in."

"You guys are so damn confusing," Skittery snapped through clenched teeth. "How the hell am I supposed to get him to do what I fucking want if I can't manipulate him?"

Blink and Mush shared another look before giving a collective sigh.

"Itey hates the entire thing, so he's pushing Skitts into getting irritated enough to drop it. And Skitts hates the entire thing, so he's pushing Itey into getting irritated enough to drop it. And neither of them will talk to the other one, no matter what anyone says to them, " Bumlets ranted, pacing the floor. "What do you think?" he asked as he turned towards Bam.

"Know what I think?" Spot interrupted, steadily doing pushups while Bam sat cross legged on his back. "I think you should save this nauseating conversation for whenever I'm not in the room."

Bam spoke before Bumlets could get out the apology that was already forming on his lips. "I don't know, Boss, you're pretty good at this sort of thing. Have you noticed how in love Swifty and Sarah are? Everyone knows you had something to do with that one. You're a regular Advice Abbey or whatever the fuck her name is."

"I don't know who the fuck you're talking about," Spot answered, not slowing down his pushups, "And I don't want to know. I just want you to shut the hell up before I break your leg."

That just caused Bam to smirk. "If you break my leg you're going to be the one that'll have to carry me around." He poked Spot in the back of the neck. "Just add in your two cents," he encouraged. "We promise not to tell anyone you opened up."

"Right, because above all else my greatest fear is how others are going to feel about my opinion on the relationship of two dipshits," Spot replied sarcastically. "Fuck off, why don't you?"

Bam rolled his eyes at Bumlets. "Not in a good mood today, huh? You get in a fight with Racetrack?"

Spot immediately stood up, knocking Bam to the floor. He spun around and glared down at his subordinate. "I didn't realize I couldn't be annoyed anymore unless it somehow involves Racetrack," he growled before stomping off.

Bumlets stared as he left, slamming the door behind him. "You really like pushing his buttons, don't you?" he asked, walking over to Bam and helping him off the floor.

"It's more fun than it used to be," Bam answered with a grin. "He's definitely calmer than he used to be a year ago."

Bumlets glanced at the door Spot had disappeared through. "That's considered calm to you?" he asked, turning back to Bam and raising an eyebrow.

Bam shrugged. "I'm not over here with a broken nose, am I? I'd consider that calm." He crossed his arms as he frowned, glancing at the door as well. "Means it's only a matter of time before he goes on a vicious rampage because he's afraid of going soft," he muttered quietly to himself.

"Hey, Skitts," Racetrack greeted once he had come down the basement stairs and stood at the foot of Jack's bed. "Jack," he greeted, nodding his head at where Jack was doing situps on the floor. He waited until Skittery looked up from his magazine to continue. "Do you want to explain to me why my boyfriend just threw a chair out our bedroom window?"

Skittery shrugged. "I'd say it's because your boyfriend is psychotic and mentally unstable, but I wouldn't know."

Jack nodded as he continued his sit ups. "Sounds right to me."

Racetrack shot him a glare before placing his attention back on Skittery. "You have absolutely no idea who he would be so mad at that he would do something like that?"

"Nope."

"So the fact that when I asked him why he threw a chair out of our bedroom window and he said, and I quote, 'Fuck Skittery in his fucking pussy-ass face. Fuck'," Racetrack said in a deadpan voice, "that's something you know nothing about?"

"Yep," Skittery answered before turning back to his magazine.

"Mentally unstable, dude," Jack piped up again, not slowing down his sit ups.

Racetrack turned to glare at him before turning back to Skittery and ripping the magazine out of his hands. "It's fucking one o'clock in the morning, Skittery," Racetrack said slowly and quietly through clenched teeth. "It's one o'clock in the fucking morning, and I have school tomorrow, and my boyfriend just busted into my room flipping his shit because of something you did, and you mean to tell me you have no idea what it is you could have done?"

"No, dude, I don't," Skittery answered, enunciating every syllable before snatching his magazine back. "And that big-scary-gang-member shit isn't going to work on me. I used to give you wedgies back in the first grade, man," he reminded him before burying his face back in his magazine. "Isn't my fault your boyfriend's a psychotic bitch," he muttered.

Jack snickered from the floor, and Racetrack kicked him in the side before turning back to Skittery and glaring. "I also broke your nose in second grade, which I have absolutely no problem repeating."

"Look, man," Skittery snapped, finally giving Racetrack his full attention. "I don't know why Spot's pissed off at me. Just like I don't know he was flying off the handle about Swifty last week, or what Speed did to piss him off so bad the week before that. The guy's been becoming more and more unhinged since all that Slingshot bullshit. Don't blame me because you can't reel him in."

"That's what everybody's been saying," Jack said from his sitting position on the ground, having stopped doing sit ups after Race had kicked him. "He's going off the rails because Slingshot isn't around to put a leash on him."

Racetrack frowned as he looked between the two of them. "Don't act like he's some kind of fucking dog," he demanded before sitting down on Skittery's bed and sighing. He ran a hand through his hair. "God damn it," he muttered, "If he throws my new laptop out a fucking window I am going to break his foot."

Skittery threw a pillow at him. "Settle in, bro. If Spot's having a rampage in your room than you can sleep here. Two of these guys defaulted this week, so I've got room for both of you until someone new moves in," he explained, nodding at the only two bunk beds without someone already sleeping in them.

Racetrack sighed again as Jack threw a pair of pajamas at him. "Thanks guys," he muttered, allowing everything else to drop for a moment.

He had no idea how he had let himself get to this place. And, moreover, he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was going to do about it. As far as he could see he was pretty stuck. He was second-in-command of a gang and dating the leader of said gang. That wasn't something you could quietly walk away from. His heart sank as he realized what might have brought about Slingshot's betrayal.

"What did I get myself into?" he muttered quietly, staring up at the ceiling before sighing again.

"Nothing good, that's for sure," Skittery replied unsympathetically before going back to his magazine once again.

"What the did I get myself into?" Skittery muttered quiet enough that Itey couldn't hear him from across the table. They were sitting in a too-fancy restaurant with crisp, white table cloths and a fucking candelabro or whatever the fuck it was called in the center of their table. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put fire between two people who were supposedly in love? How the fuck was that a smart idea?

'Congratulations on your love! Let's put some fire in between you so you can worry about burning yourselves if you ever have to reach over the table.'

'Hope you don't like eye contact! Because every time you try to make you'll be looking at big, bright fire!'

Skittery rolled his eyes. Fancy restuarants were fucking stupid.

Itey adjusted his tie and tried his best not to show that it was choking the life out of him. His shirt was too itchy, and his pants were too stiff, and and his shoes were too tight, and when the fuck was Skittery finally going to fucking give up and let him win?

Itey smiled at his boyfriend through three-candlestick-whatever-the-fuck-it-was (what kind of idiot put fire between two people that were supposed to be in love anyway?) and tried to appear comfortable. "I heard the duck here is wonderful," he said, picking up a menu and hoping his smile wasn't as tight as he thought it was.

Skittery smiled back before looking at his own menu and forcing his face to remain impassive. The duck was thirty-four fucking dollars. Who the fuck was going to pay for that? Holy shit, he wasn't made of money. "The duck sounds wonderful," he said instead, "I was thinking about getting the chicken." Chicken was cheap, right? He quickly looked over the menu and had to stop himself from punching something when he realized the chicken was only eight fucking dollars cheaper.

Itey nodded. "I bet their chicken is fantastic," he said while he scanned the menu for the chicken. He had to stop his eyes from bulging when he found it. Jesus fuck, how the hell were they supposed to afford this? There was no way Skittery had that much money on him, and Itey knew he most certainly didn't.

God damn it, he better get Skittery to admit what a romantic failure he was before they ordered any food, or they'd be stuck scrubbing dishes until the fucking restaurant closed. "The ambiance here is just perfect, isn't it?" he asked, taking a sip from his water glass as he peered over at his date. "Doesn't it make you just want to put everything out on the table? Tell me, Skittery," he said as he set his glass down, "how do you feel about me? How do you feel about us ?"

Skittery reached across the table making sure to give the candle thing a wide berth as he grabbed his boyfriend's hand. "Itey," he said, making sure to lean around the fire so he could look his boyfriend in the eye. "I love you. I don't pretend to know the future. I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental - like on a breeze, but I think maybe it's both."

Itey tried his best to not squirm in his seat or roll his eyes. Who the fuck said shit like this? Destiny? Floating around on a breeze? He was fairly certain Skittery was trying to make him throw up.

"Maybe both is happening at the same time," Skittery continued, unperturbed. "I missed you, Itey," he admitted, giving his boyfriend's hand a squeeze. "And if there's anything you need, please know that I won't be far away."

Itey frowned. There was something similar about what Skittery was saying. Not exactly like deja vu, but, like, maybe he had heard it somewhere before?

His eyes widened as he finally made the connection. He pulled his hand from Skittery's and leapt from his chair, pointing down at his date. "You stole that line from Forrest Gump, you fucking bastard!" he yelled, causing half of the restaurant's patrons to look over with wide eyes.

"Yeah, cause I identify a lot with that movie!" Skitts argued just as loudly, leaping up himself and obtaining the rest of the restaurant's attention.

"You identify with a mentally disabled multimillionaire in love with a sexually-abused drug addict?" Itey shot back. "Just admit that you hate this stuff! Admit that you hate romance! Admit that you hate this fucking restaurant! I admit that you don't want to pay thirty fucking dollars for a single fucking meal!"

" I'm paying for it?" Skittery snapped. "Why the fuck am I paying for it when this dumbass restaurant was your idea!"

"Excuse me, sirs," a waiter broke in, holding up his hands in surrender as he looked between the two of them. "If you could please quiet yourselves; we have guests that are-"

"What? That are what ?" Skittery broke in, turning around to turn all his anger onto the waiter. "That are trying to enjoy some of your, disgusting, stringy, fucking over priced roast duck? Or, maybe, they decided to get some of that chicken which they could get for three fucking dollars at the grocery store down the street, but instead would rather come here to pay for something half the size for three fucking times as much. You have some fucking balls ripping off people who are too fucking stupid to know any better. I honestly don't know whether to be impressed or appalled."

Itey smirked as Skittery continued with his rant, happy that he seemed to have finally broken his boyfriend. He was so ready to dump all this romantic crap.

Stealth picked open the lock to Spot's bedroom and let himself in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. He glanced across the room where Spot sat in an old armchair, stuffing coming out of one arm while what was presumably a blood stain ran down the other. He sat and watched his king read, seemingly unaware that he had company. The fact that he didn't jump when Stealth finally spoke proved that this wasn't the case. "You seem upset."

"I seem busy," Spot grumbled, holding up the textbook he had sitting in his lap. He didn't bother to take his gaze off the book.

Stealth was quiet as he let Spot continue for several minutes. "While I understand that high school statistics may be a riveting subject, perhaps you want to take a break from it in order to think about why you threw my favorite chair out the window last night."

"You don't have a favorite chair," Spot replied, still not bothering to look up from his book. "And I can throw whatever the fuck I want out of my windows."

Stealth nodded despite the fact that Spot was too engrossed in the textbook to see him. He waited until he turned the page to begin speaking again. "If you don't find the reason for this aggression you're feeling you're going to scare everyone off."

"Not my job to tiptoe around pussies," Spot replied flippantly, flipping another page even though he hadn't read anything since Stealth had walked in.

"It is your job to protect Brooklyn," Stealth pointed out. "And you can't do that while you're preoccupied with this."

"And what the hell is this, exactly?" Spot snapped, finally slamming the book shut and glaring up at the other boy.

Stealth shrugged and stared.

Spot narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you even doing here? What's the point of this? You want to stop me from scaring off the new recruits? When the fuck has something like that concern you? That shit always happens."

Stealth took several seconds before answering. "The new recruits aren't my concern," he finally said.

That had Spot standing up. He threw his textbook onto the now vacated chair. "The old recruits?" he asked quietly, thoughts of Slingshot pulled to the forefront of his mind.

"No, my king," Stealth answered, not allowing a second of silence to pass by this time. "Your true followers are loyal, make no mistake. But even some of your loyal followers will have to leave in order to claim their rightful place as King."

Spot crossed his arms, his glare coming back full force now that it didn't feel like his chest was in his stomach. "What the fuck is this? Lion King? What the fuck are you talking about? Speak straight for once in your god damn life."

"You were only ever meant to rule Brooklyn, my king," Stealth replied quietly, never dropping his gaze from Spot's face. "Your reach in Manhattan cannot remain. She deserves her own king, and she will not let you take him."

Spot narrowed his eyes. "You're talking about Racetrack."

"I'm not."

Spot cocked his head as he regarded his subordinate. If not Race, then who? "A Manhattan boy," he muttered to himself, looking down at the floor as Stealth nodded at him. He looked back up at the other boy. "Jack."

Stealth gave a small smile. "The king of Manhattan doesn't belong in Brooklyn, my king. When the time comes you must let him go."

Spot rolled his eyes. "That's what you came up here to tell me? Like I give a fuck about Jack. That stupid idiot can do whatever the fuck he wants." He picked up his textbook and flopped back into the chair. "I take it the Bronx is free reign though? Don't recall you saying anything about taking away its king when I took in its gang members," he muttered, attention already back on his textbook.

Stealth took several seconds before answering. "Everyone knows none of those are going to last. In the meantime, my only concern is making sure you don't create any unnecessary enemies."

That made Spot look back up from his book. "You've never been concerned about me creating enemies before," he pointed out with a frown.

"That's because they were all necessary."

Spot let out a silent snort before going back to his book once more. "So long as we're in agreement."

"You lost!" Itey insisted loudly as he and Skittery walked down another alleyway on their way back to Brooklyn. "It is not romantic to get us kicked out of a restaurant!"

"But it is romantic to stand up for the boy I love when I know he's feeling uncomfortable," Skittery pointed out. "Also, thanks to me, we didn't have to pay, so, technically, I took care of the bill as well. That's classy as shit."

"We didn't have to pay because we didn't get to order," Itey growled out. "And you were not standing up for me because I was not uncomfortable. I was perfectly fine to try the 'disgusting, stringy, fucking over priced roast duck'," he quoted, rolling his eyes.

"I was saving you from bad food," Skittery pointed out. "That's a mark of a good boyfriend. And I'm protecting you as we go down this long, dark alley. Another mark of a good boyfriend."

"Exactly what are you protecting me from?" Itey asked, looking around at the alleyway that, while indeed long, was decidedly well-lit. "Bad smells?" He spared a look at one of the dumpsters they were walking past. "Because if that's the case I don't think you're doing a very good job."

"I'm not sure exactly what it is you want from me here," Skittery admitted, stopping in his tracks to glare at Itey. "You wanted me to take you to a fancy restaurant, so I did. You didn't want to pay for anything, so I made sure you didn't. You said you wanted to go back to Brooklyn, so I'm leading you there. And you're still fucking complaining. Exactly what is it that you want me to do to make you happy?"

"I want you to admit you hate this!" Itey yelled back. "I want you to admit that fancy clothes make you uncomfortable and expensive restaurants make you feel stifled! I want you to admit that every time you tell me that you love me inside, you're cringing, because you hate saying it! I want you to admit that you aren't a romantic person and-"

"I don't hate saying it," Skittery mumbled quietly, staring at the sidewalk as his boyfriend continued to rant.

Itey snapped his mouth shut, cutting his rant short. "You .. you what?" he finally managed to croak out as he stared at Skittery with wide eyes.

The other boy gave an exaggerated shrug and kicked at the ground, still not looking up at Itey. "I don't hate saying it," he repeated, not bothering to say it any louder than the first time. "I'm just not used to it is all."

"I like that you don't hate saying it," Itey admitted just as quietly. "But I hate that you don't argue with me anymore. And I hate the fancy restaurants. And I hate this fucking tie." He quickly pulled his tie off, throwing it in a nearby dumpster. "I didn't even know I owned a fucking tie." He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I'm not very romantic either."

"Ha!" Skittery exclaimed, jerking his head up to look Itey in the eye as he pointed at him. "I knew I could get you to break first!"

"You conniving little shit," Itey replied, his smirk displacing the note of menace in his voice. "I can't believe you're plan was to break me. That was my plan!"

"You conniving little shit," Skittery repeated, a full blown smile on his face before he leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend on the mouth. "I don't know whether to be impressed or appalled."

"Oh, please," Itey said, rolling his eyes as his smile grew. "You're impressed as fuck and, everybody here knows it."

"I'm just glad I don't have to keep cooking you fucking breakfast in bed," Skittery replied. "You know the fucking elevator's been broken for fucking months, right? And we don't have a fucking dishwasher. God damn, I am never doing that shit ever again."

Itey's smile dropped from his face. "Well, I mean, maybe every once in awhile …? Not everyday, but-"

"Oh? Liked my breakfasts, did you?" Skittery asked, raising an eyebrow. "If you want more you better be willing to put that mouth to work, baby."

"I know," Itey replied as his smirk reformed. He slung an arm around Skittery's shoulders as he started to guide them back onto the main streets. "I'm well aware of how chewy your bacon is."

"Dude, not cool. You do not insult a man's bacon."