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Step one in Brad’s Guide to Finding Himself and Falling in Love: Make a new friend. Nailed it.
Fuck. This man. I barely know him, and I’m already wondering what kind of fence he’d like around his backyard. White picket?
“Yeah, man. It’s been a while for me, you know? I miss, just, like…touching someone. Holding.” Fu-u-uck. How long would it take to custom-order a ring?
“He’s like… If niceness were a man,” I say. “His eyes are warm like brownies. And he’s all muscly in a kinda soft way? Like a loaf of challah. Add some chocolate sprinkles on top for his hair, and there you have it.”
Family isn’t always given, you know? Sometimes it’s earned. And I think that makes it all the more important. Choosing to love? I don’t think there’s anything greater than that.”
“Hey, Joey?” I say, trying not to let my nerves show. He waits patiently. Always patient. “So, uh, it turns out I really like your face. And, if you’re still amenable, I’d very much like to greet your tonsils with my tongue.”
I decide, despite the limitations of my body, I’m going to try very hard to have Joey’s babies.
He preens, even as his cheeks flush. And the man thinks he doesn’t have a praise kink.