“Did you just hiss at me?” Techno asks, incredulous. He’s hovering by his locker, towel wrapped around his waist, stopped in his tracks by the noise Type made.
“Are you judging me?” Type asks, gesturing at Techno’s whole body as if he were really asking ’Are you blaming me for appreciating the view?’
Techno turns away, securing his hold on the towel just in case it loosens. Type stays where he is, waiting for Techno to glance back at him.
“Are you going to be like this all the time?” Techno asks, facing his locker. Though Type can’t see his face, he knows Techno is blushing furiously: it’s spreading on his neck and ears.
“Am I not allowed to show my admiration for my boyfriend?” Type counters, and saying it out loud (boyfriend!) still thrills him as much as the first time they voiced this link between them.
When Techno doesn’t answer, Type goes to him, enclosing him in a tight embrace from behind. He kisses Techno’s neck, right on the spot that always makes him go all pliant underneath his touch. It doesn’t fail this time either.
“I’ll stop if you’re too embarassed,” Type says in Techno’s ear.
“It’s – it’s alright,” Techno says shyly.
“Good,” Type says, resuming his kissing of his boyfriend’s neck, and ear, and jaw, until Techno turns around and claims his mouth.
The Last Good Bar 