"Time for a makeover?" Chuck almost seemed too eager, though they'd been friends for longer than they hadn't by that point so obviously he didn't actually care. If he had, his first port of call would have been to give Pitts a decent haircut, but alas they'd all had their parent-dictated bullshit back in the day. What mattered most was that they'd found poetry and the freedom that came with it. "If you get up there?" Chuck stepped back, hand on his jutted hip to survey the man before him. He was the last person to believe in a one size fits all definition of sexuality, but that girl had to be blind if she couldn't tell Gerald was a card-carrying gay. "Well if she doesn't get it, I'll help nudge her along-" Chuck's hand struck out, gripping Gerald's collar and yanking him in for a kiss. Truly, it was the least Chuck could do for a friend being hunted across the bar. "Please tell me that wasn't your first kiss," he asked when they parted, expression as shitheaded as ever.
"Not if you put me in leather pants again. I'm still chafed from the last time," he said, brushing past Chuck's excitement at the idea. They'd been friends through a series of unfortunate haircuts and even more questionable fashion choices so he knew he couldn't take offense to it, not when Chuck had seen much, much worse. "What?" Gerald stared back at him expectantly, ready for whatever snarky observation he was bound to make. Sure he wasn't exactly butch but he liked to think he was at least straight passing. Chuck grabbed hold of his collar before he could fight it and kissed him with no time for Gerald to process it. "Fuck off," he laughed as he pushed him away once they parted, like they were just playing around. "That's not even the first time you've kissed me."













