And now he was sitting in the same room as Troy, who was yammering on obliviously about gender relations in the nineteenth century, and all Finn could think was that Troy had a really lovely mouth, and he would very much like to kiss it again.
Troy interrupted his lecture to ask, “Do I have something on my face?”
“Oh. You’re staring.”
Finn blinked a few times. “No, I’m not.”
Troy shifted his feet so that he was sitting with his legs stretched out. He leaned against the sofa, right next to where Finn was also leaning. “You weren’t even listening.”
Finn contemplated lying. “Eh, I guess I zoned out. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Probably stuff you mostly already knew. Here, have a fortune cookie.” Troy picked up two and handed one to Finn.
Finn cracked his open. He read aloud, “Look in the right places; you will find some good offerings.”
“In bed,” said Troy with a grin.
Finn rolled his eyes. “You are such a child.”
“I don’t think there is anything childish about showing you the offerings found in my bed.”