a bug-eyed mads stared deep down into ramón's nose. “ fuck, how do you know ... ? ” just to slowly descend his glance to the middle of his legs. “ bush time then? oh, tough one, puce. ” the stick followed his sight while he studied every single available face — should he really analyze this or pick a random number and go by alphabetical miracle? decisions, decisions … and heavy thoughts. was he high? to ponder about it would require another twenty minutes, and the clock was ticking ... slowly ticking, of course, since the tip of his stick settled on judith's annoyed face.
“ relax! not you! i was just– ” a hand gesture was made, right above his head; to mimic a clean - up : “ lemme brush my thoughts, i promise i won’t offend you with desire, miss mind over matter. ” shit. did he say that out loud? time to clean his throat as well, to pretend that did not happen and continue to move the stick around — faster this time, taking a quick pause at nico. “ been there. ” mads sent a kiss his way, ready to move on to duckie. and then cierra. switching between the two. “ ok, duckie because they would help me catch some frogs there and i really want to catch those crazy psychedelic frogs, maybe have a craaaaazy hallucination and sleep like a baby. ” he was dead serious, arm stretched and stick working like a spotlight. “ oh, also because i feel like they know how to use their tongue crazy style. and you, princess. ” mads smiled sweetly at cierra, sending between ten and three thousand kisses her way. “ are my best friend. and i miss you like crazy. and i'm high and needy. so we would enjoy our bush moment. because i love you. ” the stick touched the ground, and mads crackled his knuckles before clearing his throat again and tilting his head to the right and staring into ramón’s side profile and praying for the god of the wind to send a super powerful wind, fuck, he needed to smell him. “ leaving you out of this one, puce. ” he said quietly into ramón's neck, bumping shoulders with him. “ you know seven minutes wouldn't be enough for us. ” a chuckle, born from mischief, full of bush-like intentions. “ even though. ” he paused, spreading his legs, getting ready to get up. “ even though i feel like you would last seven seconds. ” up he went, looking down at ramón and giving him a slow-because-i’m-so-fucking-high kind of wink. “ can’t blame you, mate, maybe i’d last nine. ” a shrug as a goodbye, because cierra’s shoulders looked good enough for him to rest his head.