and away we go🏁

"Follow my finger," Charles encourages. He traces lines through the air with his index finger. He says, in a low, hypnotic voice, "Ferrari strategy will improve."

Carlos shakes his head morosely. He looks into the dolorous dawn of another day. "No, not that. I am plagued by death."

"Honestly, I just stopped checking world news," Charles discloses. "Why are your eyeballs doing that jumping thing? Did you start your hit man therapy already, Carlos?"

"Mucha cocaína," Carlos explains. "Will you be my pretend boyfriend? There will be no consequences."

Charles narrows his eyes and looks Carlos over in dubious consideration. "No. It may wake up something in me."

"One kiss. I beg you."

"It is possible. I'll call Alex."

"You have four minutes to decide. Vamos."

Carlos checks that they're in the right spot, dusts his shorts off, and makes some kind of rock nest like he's a penguin dad. He kicks it over.

Charles returns. "She says one kiss is fine, but she worries also that it may awaken something in me."

There are footsteps coming up the path. Carlos says, "Pretend I am ugly," and surges forward to capture Charles's mouth with his. He rucks up Charles's shirt, slots their legs together, and groans recklessly.

Behind them, Oscar says, "Oh. Shit. Sorry."

Charles springs back and almost falls off the mountain. He blinks owlishly.

"Oh. Sorry," Oscar repeats, mouth staying open after speaking. "Sorry," he says again, backing up. "I won't, like, I'm, um. Discreet. Yeah. Cool. Congrats. You're both, um. Very attractive. Like, a good match. Good for you. Sorry. So. Cool. Um, my sister is also---yeah, cool. I'm gonna--go."

When he disappears, Carlos smacks Charles's shoulder. His blood feels full of fizz. "Attractive," he repeats smugly. "Did he look jealous?"