Let it be extravagant

[TXT] thank you. 

[TXT] I didn’t hear about that. Are you alright? 

[TXT] if you feel shaky then I can go alone, Ash.

[TXT] yeah yeah I’m fine. 

[TXT] I’d like you to come with me

[TXT] I did not hear about Naga Java though.  What happened?

[TXT] Yeah, of course.

[TXT] hello Ash.  It’s Avi

[TXT] I found something. I feel foolish that I didn’t figure it out earlier

[TXT] an address to a house in Holt.  the owner is a naga.

[TXT] What? Really?? 

“Wow. That must of been one helluva shock, finding out so indirectly, huh? Although I reckon considering what it was they was doing, finding out from one of em personally couldn’t be much better.” Ephram clucked in sympathy. Ash didn’t seem in the slightest the sort of person who would go along with that sort of family business, especially given how obviously disturbed he was in the recounting; it probably hounded his conscience something terrible.

“I’ll git in touch with you later bout them papers, then. If you don’t mind.” Ephram didn’t intend to pursue the topic too deeply over a coffee meet-up. It was gruesome stuff and he didn’t want to agitate Ash with the prospect that his family could have been doing even more reprehensible things to their fellow supernaturals.

Clearing his throat, Ephram started to ask, “So what’ve you been up to, makin’ plans for your birthday party this year?–” 

The flash came first, he’d remember afterwards, because Ash’s angular face was suddenly illuminated in a way that cast sharp shadows all over it. The noise of the explosion banged away such subtleties, though, as rubble and shattered glass and splintered wood rained down into the coffee shop.

Ephram instinctively reached over the table and hauled Ash towards him, diving them both underneath it until the debris started to settle in the ear-ringing aftermath. “YOU OKAY?” Ephram hollered, barely able to hear himself, halfway already in the midst of un-wedging himself from under the table to check on the rest of the people. 

But he froze where he was, still half-kneeling, as a frenzy of glowing red letters appeared against the far wall of the cafe, reading: ALL SNAKES DIE.

It felt weird, just talking about this. When he had first arrived in Soapberry, the family history had been a deep, dark secret. It had been something he carried with shame, afraid of being judged or hated. There was still shame, but he didn't worry as much about people's reactions any more. He showed them who he was, and he wasn't his family. "It was... There ain't any words for what it was."

He was more than happy to leave this conversation for later. It was better if they talked about it in private anyway. If Avi had been right about something happening in Soapberry to his brother, you couldn't be too careful about how openly you talked about it.

"My birthday?" he asked, a grin crossing his sharp features as he looked at Ephram across the table. "Why, handsome? You lookin' for a repeat performance?" Ephram never got the chance to answer.

Everything happened slowly and quickly all at once. The flash and the bang that disoriented his senses, the pressure that sent glass and wood and depris flying. "Ugh... huhhh..." Ephram was wrapped around him, like a shield. Those cop instincts sure kicked in fast. Ash could barely hear anything but ringing, but Ephram's lips were moving. He slowly came to his senses. People were screaming and yelling. He checked himself for injuries. Everything felt okay? Just battered and bruised. "I think so?" he answered, and he joined Ephram in scrambling up and switching to his tail for faster movement.

That was when he saw it.

“It disgusts me,” Avi replied with a firm if quiet hatred.  “We have enough enemies, the thought of turning on one another, for profit…human currency.  It makes me angry.”  Yet he still remained so quiet.  No thrashing or stomping, just his hands curling into tight fists, the sound of his cold bones cracking as if he wished to crack them against flesh.  

But at least this anger wasn’t directed at Ash any longer.  Instead, Avi listened as Ash described his life, the childhood he’d had to grow up in.  What was it like for Ash, when he finally learned of his family’s sordid business?  How did they expect this child to carry on their sick mantle?  “You feel guilty, like you should’ve done more,”  Avi stated - not a question, but an understanding.  Avi didn’t explain further though.

“Then we’ll do something,”  Avi decided, giving Ash’s hand a firm squeeze before he finally let go.  “I know someone who works with the Sheriff’s Department here - he’s a good man.  A fairy.  I…”  Avi shook his head.  “I never thought I’d find help in this town, but here you are, Ash Caplan.  You don’t know how much this means to me.”  How much Ash’s offer, his kindness and forgiveness, changed the way Avi felt about the people in Soapberry.

“I suppose we’ll part ways for now,” Avi said, turning to walk slowly back up to the promenade.  He didn’t walk quickly, waiting for Ash to walk alongside him.  “But if I could call you when…oh.”  He realized then that Ash might not have a phone to call now that Avi attacked him. The selkie looked abashed.  “It seems I owe you a phone?”

"Yeah, me too," Ash answered. If Ash had been more of a wise-ass, more bitter, he'd have told Avi that his disgust and anger had been pretty evident when he'd punched him and tried to drown him in the ocean, but Ash was laid back to a fault. At least that was what he told himself. It made it easier to think of himself that way as opposed to acknowledging just how damn guilty he felt. Avi cut right to the point though, and Ash nodded.

"Anyone with a conscience would feel guilty." He'd rationalized his way around it for too long. Dismantling and selling all the different parts of his family's companies and giving the 'employees' a hefty severence package might have been what he thought was best in the moment, but it didn't come close to actually making amends. Something like that you could never, ever fix. He just had to do what he could.

“I…don’t know much about that sort of business,”  Avi confessed, his coldness sliding away.  Not entirely; Avi Sharma didn’t think he could ever be completely warm, and he preferred it that way.  “I know of human who pollute the water, and Hunters who steal pelts from selkies.  But supernaturals dealing in the trade of supernaturals…”  Avi shook his head.  He couldn’t fathom but the idea was appalling, even for someone as desensitized as him.

At least it seemed like Ash was no longer afraid, although Avi still couldn’t quite comprehend that the naga wasn’t more angry.  He expected it; even moreso, he deserved it.    “You grew up in it…”  Avi said slowly, thinking deeply about this, and the realization that came next.  Grim, icy, quiet.  “…you grew up in that den of monsters, and somehow you pulled yourself out of it.  It’s commendable.”

The handshake was very landfolk, but they seemed to understand all sorts of lovely meanings behind it.  And once Ash took Avi’s hand, he had to admit he felt some relief at the cold touch of the naga’s hand.

As Avi turned to leave though, Ash called out to him.  And the words he said next stunned the selkie.  Avi turned to look at him.

“I don’t understand,”  Avi said, wishing there was guile or cunning in Ash’s words.  Some sort of slimy, duplicitous or at least opportunistic look in his eyes…but there was nothing but raw, plain honesty.  And and offer.  Clean, pure, simple.  Help Avi find his brother, help Ash get answers about his parents.  Somehow, the two incidents, years apart, seemed oddly connected even if Avi knew they couldn’t possibly be.

“Why would you help me? I tricked you, and hurt you and accused you of…terrible things.” 

Ash scoffed. His cigarettes and phone were soaked. He couldn't even blow off steam by lighting up, and he'd have to get a new iPhone on special delivery. "I don't either, and if you did know about this kinda stuff I'd probably think you were an asshole." Ash was almost infinitely laid back and forgiving when it came to people, but there was no wiggle room for this kind of stuff.

"I grew up knowing we were rich, but I didn't know why. I didn't care to know anything about the family business, even when I thought it was just farming and packaging and whatever else. Maybe that's my bad." He felt guilty. He should have done more, especially after he'd found out about it. He'd just been so scared, so lost...

There was a sense of relief, however small, when Avi shook his hand. He was burying the hatchet rather than burying it in his neck. There was a sense of overwhelming sadness to all of this though, and Ash wished he could just go back in time and make it right, turn his family into the authorities sooner, find evidence, help the people who were hurting.

“Do you think…” Avi started desperately, his face showing his frustration and pain.  He kept looking at that half scrap of paper he’d found in the ruins of an old estate in Jamare.  “Do you think that perhaps someone else in family’s business would’ve taken up their banner?  The Caplans seemed lucrative from what I could tell.  Someone must have had to fill up the vacuum of power they left.  If they had…anyone else who worked for them, who might have done this.  Do you know?”

Avi felt he was a futile question, or at least questioning the wrong person.  If Ash distanced himself from that life, then how could he possibly know anyone who had worked for his grandparents?

“I am just so frustrated,” he said through girt teeth, muscles bunching in anger.  “I just want to find my brother.  All I know is that he disappeared in Soapberry, two years ago.  And every new discovery - every single thing that I think is a clue - ends up being a dead end.  I cannot allow myself to give up.  This…this contract felt like the closest I’d come and now it’s just another dead end.”

He didn’t know why he was confessing all of this to Ash.  There was really no reason for the poor bedraggled naga to care.  He shook his head.

“I’ve taken up too much of your time, Ash.  And unfortunately I did not treat you kindly in that time.  I know that you’ve helped as much as you can…”  Carefully, he held his hand out, to shake Ash’s hand.  “Thank you.  Honourable Ash Caplan.”

Avi's question broke his heart. Ash couldn't look at him for a moment. When he finally made his way to his feet, he kept his eyes on the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. "Running a business like that means you need contacts who want to take part on it. Or competitors, even. I wouldn't rule it out."

He managed to lift his head, looking at Avi cautiously. Avi was calm now, and incredibly apologetic. Ash wasn't afraid so much as awkward. He felt guilty, even if this technically wasn't his fault. "I tried to know as little about what they did as possible. I just couldn't stomach it."

He could understand the frustration. Losing a family member must have been awful. But not knowing what happened to them... that was worse. Ash understood that. He would never know what really happened to his parents. But he'd never known them, either. Avi and his brother actually had a relationship. He had someone to miss.

In truth Ash had no reason to answer Avi’s questions.  Ash had every right to scream ‘fuck you’ at Avi, indignant and hurt and self-righteous.  He had every right to throw a bug fuss or clam up completely and try to scramble away from the violent selkie.

He did none of this.  He answered after a few hoarse gasps,  very carefully and deliberately, giving details instead of simplistic answers.  Avi shut his eyes as he listened, his back towards the naga so Ash wouldn’t see him.

Avi understood why Ash answered this way:  guilt.  An obligation to rectify his family’s crimes, and an acknowledgement that that responsibility fell on his pretty, slim shoulders.

Some part of Avi still wished he could find blame in this.  That perhaps the naga was just still tricking him, turning on that beautiful shiny charm and talking his way out of it, saying anything he could just to get out of the situation.  But in his heart Avi knew that wasn’t true.  That was plain honesty, and Avi’s derision for Ash felt a kindling of respect for the young naga.

Avi looked down at the scrap of paper he still held in his hand.  Quite possibly useless now…he frowned as he looked down at something that seemed to be a date.

“Two years ago….?”  Avi said, but by then he’d returned to his sense of calm, although renewed by a new puzzle based on what Ash was saying.

He returned to Ash - his step determined and crisp even in the swirling water.  But instead of attacking the again, Avi bent down and picked him up, pulling Ash to his feet.

“You have no reason to forgive me, but I apologize for doing this to you.  I thought you were your family.  You are not.  Nor are you a coward.  You are far more honourable than I’d originally realized.”  Avi spoke formally, in that selkie way when they were trying to talk like landfolk.

He doubled over in the sand, on his hands and knees and barely able to keep himself from collapsing on the beach. Ash heaved, coughing up some sea water and throwing up some of the contents of his stomach. He fought for air as if Avi still had his hands wrapped tightly around his neck, shaking the salt out of his hair.

Avi didn't look at him the whole time he spoke. All Ash could see was his back in the night. He sat in the throes of his anxiety waiting for some kind of reaction, whether he was to be met with understanding or violence. The strange thing was, Ash would have understood both.

Finally, Avi turned back toward him, and it was all Ash could do not to flinch. But his movements were different now. There was a sorrow in him, not only for what he had done, but for the fact that what answers he thought he had were blown away like sand on the wind.

“Hoooooo.” Ephram raised his eyebrows, taking in Ash’s faint squirm as the naga offered some more insight into the family skeletons. “That’s a whole barrelfull of worms, Ash. I can see howcome it ain’t an easy subject to bring up. Or explain through.” 

He took a moment to sit back and look at Ash – really look at him, in the slow silent way that people from the holler tended towards – taking in the uptick in restless, sinuous movements in the young man’s demeanor. He really was a striking fellow, his angular not-quite-human features doing much more to dramatize his confession than the words themselves did. 

“You don’t gotta talk bout it if you don’t want to,” Ephram told Ash, “but man, you sorter hooked me with that lead-in. How long ago was this? Were they still doin’ it when you was in the picture? You still in contact with em?” A thought occurred, about Ephram’s most frustrating ongoing-slash-cold case, and he added, “–did they ever dabble in sellin’ off supernatural organs and not the whole persons?”

Ash didn't often feel embarrassed or vulnerable, but talking about his family tended to turn him into someone who avoided eye contact. He wished he didn't have to carry it, this shame. It wasn't his. At least it shouldn't have been. But he couldn't do anything about it now. All he could do was try and make things better going forward.

"Yeah, it's a lot." At least Ephram didn't seem to judge him. That was always his biggest fear, wondering what was going on behind people's eyes when they learned the history he was born out of. Ephram was quick to assure him he didn't have to talk about it, but if he was going to do something worthwhile for once in his life, he'd need to explain.

"S'long as I knew 'em. They're all dead now, and I barely talked to 'em when they were alive. I found out 'cause I was going through the estate. I always just thought it was some boring family business, farmin' and packaging and all that. Not overworking supernaturals to increase their yield and all the other shit they did."

The moment that Ash said they were all dead, it was like a plug was pulled on Avi’s rage.  It just drained away, as did the blood from his face.  He was left ashen and trembling slightly as his anger bled away, listening to Ash explain.

He didn’t want to trust Ash’s explanation.  He didn’t want to believe it, because it meant another dead end with respect to his brother.  But the way Ash told him - still no malice in the naga’s voice.  By the starfish gods, not even any anger or defensiveness coming from Ash.  Just unhappy coughing and explanations.

Avi looked down at the wet, bedraggled Ash.  He’d lured Ash out here, threatened his life.  Hurt him.  Finally, slowly, Avi’s shoulders slumped, his entire body relaxing, toned muscle by muscle.

And then Ash apologized about Tommy, and Avi had to look away, shame crawling through his system.  After what Avi’d just done to Ash, and here the naga was, apologizing for the loss of his brother.  He couldn’t take that sort of pure sincerity, that…kindness.

“Hush, be quiet,” Avi said softly, and in a smooth graceful movement he stood up, walking away from Ash, through the incoming tide.  He reached his mid-calf now, and Avi welcomed the cool brine gumming up his trousers and soaking his shoes.  “I need to think.”

He left Ash to take his time recovering, staring out into the sea. Eventually, Avi turned to look at Ash over his shoulder.  Avi asked,  “When did they killed?  How…were they murdered? They were your family, Ash.  You…don’t regret their deaths?”

Avi's grip loosened on him. Something changed in his eyes, and his russet skin seemed to turn paler. Ash couldn't read the emotions in him. He was still too dizzy and his head was still spinning from practically being strangled on the beach, but somehow he felt... calmer. Ash couldn't help but be relieved. Maybe he'd finally convinced him.

He started to walk away, and Ash sat up, lifting himself out of the water, but he didn't dare move beyond that. Avi didn't go far, just a few steps up the beach. His rage might have returned at any moment. For several long moments, Ash didn't speak, afraid that any word that passed his lips would make Avi wrap his hands around his throat again.

Then, finally, Avi spoke to ask him a question. Or more accurately, three.

When did they die? Were they murdered? Do you regret their deaths?

He still had a number of breaths to watch before he could answer. "My parents when I was five. They might have been murdered, but I could never find out. My grandfather when I was nineteen, and my grandmother just under two years ago... natural causes. Old age." It offered little comfort, he was sure, and he was about to look like an asshole to someone who was aching for his brother to just come home, but he shook his head.

Ephram flapped one big hand to dismiss the subject of Bellamy’s perceptions, saying briefly, “No need for apologies, man. Just wanted the clarification, for both our sakes.” He slurped at his marshmallow latte, which was tooth-achingly sweet – just what he’d been going for – and turned a bit serious at Ash’s response.

“Hate to say it, but there ain’t just the one anti-naga shithead. We been trackin’ a whole…” he didn’t come right out and say terrorist cell, feeling that would be overstating it at this point, and settled on, “… group of people with anti-naga leanings. You be careful out there, Ash. The Department’s putting in a lot of extra manpower hours on this one, but we still don’t know the extent of their reach. I’d hate for somethang to happen to you.” Ephram reached easily across the table to grasp Ash’s thin wrist for a moment, squeezing it emphatically before changing subjects.

“Y’know now that you mention it, I don’t know diddly squat bout your family or family situations.” Ephram harrumphed, scratching under his scruffy chin. “What’s the deal? You come from a passel of scoundrels and reprobates?” He grinned, confiding, “Don’t be embarrassed to tell me, I’m descended from a long line of rebels and criminals my own self.”

He was relieved when Ephram dismissed the subject. He didn't want to talk about Bellamy any more. It was embarrassing. He was just glad Ephram hadn't taken it the wrong way.

"Oh, really?" He couldn't believe they lived in a world, even in Soapberry, where people were so freaking ridiculous. "Sounds like they need to go get a life. I'm glad you're looking into it though." The sooner people like that were taken off the streets, the better. He'd been lucky they hadn't really messed with him. Just some obnoxious graffiti on the outer walls of his apartment, stray cats let inside or scraps left for them so they were always hanging around.

“That’s the good thing bout livin’ where we do,” Ephram agreed, rocking back on his heels. “There’s always somebody about who can pick up even a big ol’ yeti like me, what with their enhanced strength and all.” Not that people really did pick him up, other than Freddie now and again when he wanted to shift Ephram without any argument. Which was fun enough, to be honest.

“Not so bland, considerin’ you got the extra depth charge,” the witch snorted, before placing his own order for a toasted marshmallow latte. It only took a couple of minutes for the barista to produce – seeing as she was a flame atronach and could toast the marshmallow with a jet from her wrist (’more sanitary than from my fingertip, the boss says,’ she confided with a roll of her pretty eyes) – and then the two of them found a table for themselves.

“Oh, ain’t nothin’ too deep and dark.” Ephram sampled his coffee and made an approving sound before continuing on. “I mean, I got in contact with you jes to clear up the whole thing about Bellamy, what you might of said to her about me. I find when you have a disagreement with Bellamy and she mentions what somebody else said, it’s best to get in touch with that body and get the quote straight from them.” He gave a sidelong smile. “That girl has a … novel way of interpretin’ what folks say.”

Ephram leaned back a little in his chair, extending his long legs to the side of Ash’s. “And then I reckoned it would be nice to see you! Find out what’s been goin’ on with you since your beach birthday. I like hearin’ what pretty people been up to.”

Ash chuckled at Ephram calling himself a yeti. "Well, no super strength here, just super graceful," he teased with a wink. Ash loved seeing people around Soapberry use their gifts. Now that it was getting warmer again, he'd probably start going out with his snake form, especially at the beaches. There were few things that could beat swimming in warm water.

"Oh?" He stiffened, only slightly, at the mention of Bellamy. He honestly hadn't thought he'd said anything out of order, and Ephram had flirted with him pretty openly at the party. It wasn't really a secret they'd gone home together. He felt a rare flush of embarrassment at the conversation, but he disguised it well.

"I'm sorry about that, dude. I know Bella can take things in a kind of dramatic way. I mean, hey, I'm all for the dramatic," he snickered, holding up his pretty painted finger nails. "But I think she got me beat." His slight embarrassment turned to flattery when Ephram said it'd just be nice to see him.

“Dead?”  Avi said - and fortunately he heard that word.  He dropped Ash into the water, leaning back and letting the naga breathe freely for the first time since his attack.  Avi blinked in icy confusion.  Did Ash mean the Caplan family were all dead?  Or…that his brother was dead?

The sick thing was, that Avi would be viciously glad if it was the former but secretly relieved if it was the latter.  It would mean closure for the family but also one less obligation for Avi to feel guilt-bound over.  

And he hated himself for even contemplating that thought.  What sort of brother was he?  He was the eldest, the Sharma Pod was his responsibility, after his mother; and she’d been something of a sea cucumber ever since their father died.   Bavarissi be praised,  family.

The rage drained out of Avi like water, but he was still left with a cold icy determination that didn’t let Ash off the hook just yet.  He stayed sitting on Ash, keeping the naga’s legs split and pinned underneath him.  Avi grabbed Ash’s shoulders and pulled him to sit up, cupping the back of Ash’s neck to keep him supported.

“Alright - talk.  Your family are those Caplans, are they not?  And they deal in supernatural trafficking, yes?  And they had a contract to acquire people in Soapberry a couple years ago?  Was that when you - coincidentally - also arrived in Soapberry, Ash?”

His thumbs stroked along the nape of Ash’s neck, as if in a soothing motion.  “Talk to me.”

His eyes stung from the pain of Avi's hands around his neck and the unpleasant sensation of saltwater washing over him as the tide rolled in and out. He shook the salt water out of his hair, sucking in breaths when Avi let go enough so that he could talk. "Thank you... thank you..." His words came out staggering, haphazardly falling from his lips.

Something different had overcome the selkie. He was no longer the charming but elusive stranger who had dragged Ash into that alley and kissed him like his life depended on it. He was out for blood, more shark than seal. Ash held up a hand as if to ask Avi to bear with him while he got enough air in his lungs to be able to explain.

"My family /were/ those people... but they're all dead. I swear, I wasn't involved in any of it. I didn't even know about it until my grandmother died and I went through her stuff..." His family really had been awful people. There was no other way of looking at it. They did things Ash could never forgive, and as much as he put on a playful and happy go lucky face, he had to carry that guilt with him.

Maybe later, it would’ve occurred to Avi that Ash was not fighting back.  No instinctive lashing out or battle-hardened fight moves.  Later, he’d realize he’d not just caught Ash completely off-guard, but that the kid wasn’t trained or experienced in fighting back.

But Avi’s rage consumed him so completely, that it didn’t occur to him must yet.  For now, all he reveled in was that he’d caught the little snake bastard off-guard and had to take advantage of the moment while he could.

He could feel Ash trying to shift under him, glad he couldn’t shift into his snake tail.  Then Avi would have had to shift into his seal skin; and although he’d be over 800lbs heavier, skin protective against naga bites, he’d be slower and unable to communicate.  

As the younger man tried to speak, Avi loosened his grip just a bit, leaning in to hear his helpless gasps.  “Family…yes. I know it’s your family.  Are you saying you’re not a part of that family of - of slave traders and monsters?” 

‘I left them’, Ash gasped, and Avi didn’t know what to make of that.  “What do you mean you left them?” he asked, frustrated that he was starting to understand what Ash was saying, but Avi didn’t want to.  Ash wasn’t in Soapberry as a spy and on behalf of the Caplan family.  He’d ditched them and run.  

“You’re a coward,”  Avi growled.  “You couldn’t handle it but you didn’t try to stop it either.  Look at this!!”  Avi sat up on Ash, straddling him still as he shook the torn piece of paper in Ash’s face.  “I found this, in Soapberry!  They were taking species from Soapberry.  Two years ago.  They might have taken my brother.  You can’t escape them, no matter where you run, you stupid boy.”

He'd been here before, metaphorically at least, with Faye. She'd had a fire in her eyes and a magic to match. She'd felt powerful, like she could easily have snuffed him out with a snap of her fingers, Thanos style. Avi felt different. There was a blind and physical rage in him, a disgust that made things personal. If Faye was a gun, Avi was a knife. No, he was a fist.

"Stop!" He spluttered through sea water that lapped up the shore and into his face. He struggled in vain. Avi was stronger and bulkier than him, and he was used to this. You couldn't see the tears of physical pain and emotional frustration forming in his eyes. Salt water mixed with salt water. He could breathe underwater for probably an hour, but the sensation was disorienting.

“Awww, hell yeah I’m a hugger.” Ephram gave a hearty and hooting laugh as he bundled Ash into a firm, squeezy hug, tousling the naga’s dark hair for extra measure as he let go. “Especially in public. I’m well-nigh shameless bout it, if you wanna know the truth.” He grinned at Ash, enjoying the way the younger man looked in the casual outfit that was faintly at odds with his angular, sylvan features. Pretty things always delighted Ephram – hence his unabashed and complete adoration of his fairy husband – and he never wasted and opportunity to indulge.

Relatedly, he was having a minor amount of trouble deciding which of the menu’s treats he wanted to sample. “This is my first time here,” Ephram told Ash as the two of them stared at the chalkboard bearing the drink names and prices, going on to confirm Ash’s supposition when he said, “–it’s a fair new place, opened a week and a half ago.” He elbowed Ash a little, asking, “You gonna try one of them what’s got blood in it? I reckon I might go for one tooth-achin’ sweet. I’m in a candy mood today.”

Ash beamed. He had long since abandoned his family's strict and stern sensibilities. He loved a good hug, a cuddle, a nice kiss on the cheek or forehead. Affection was great, and he gladly wrapped his arms around Ephram's bulkier frame. "Yessss, I love when a guy can hug you so good they can pick you up. Or a girl. Or neither." He didn't bother neatening his hair after Ephram had played with it. It was always a specifically stylish kind of messy anyway.