"Have we?," he countered, brows furrowed teasingly. After he'd straightened his shorts out, he stood up straight again. "Steve Harv-," he laughed then shook his head. "Um, Rupaul, in But I'm A Cheerleader? If you've seen it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," he grizzled, vaguely awkward yet humorous, constantly stuck in a never ending loop of being unsure if he was actually confident or simply pretending at any given moment. People like Gerald's friend Chuck were so lucky with their natural charisma and magnetism. Even he wasn't immune to it, which was saying something because he was judgmental as hell. "Oh.... oh! Not gonna lie I was trying to figure out how 'something you'd like your girlfriend to do to your face' was gonna factor in here. And the shirt... it's so dark in here and you want people to read? That's a sly tactic, you devilish hound, I'm onto you."


















