Alex crawls onto the love seat with Eli and eats the scone thing out of his hand, purposely messy, while clambering over his lap and into the space next to him. “Oh my god,” Eli says, wiping his spitty hand on Alex’s shirt. “Are you twelve?” “Twelve inches,” Alex says. “I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” “It’s not,” Kuzy and Jeff say simultaneously. Alex glowers. “I’m telling Coach to trade y’all.” “Y’ALL?” Jeff repeats gleefully. Alex hides his face in Eli’s neck. Eli pats his cheek consolingly. He presses a discreet little kiss to the soft skin at the base of Eli’s throat and keeps his mouth
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