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Summary
“Hey, what is it about straight guys that does it for you?” Scott asks. Wallace drops his laminated books in a slippery avalanche onto the ground. Oh, was that bad to ask?
Before Scott can really worry though, Wallace has just like, kicked the pile of books out of the way, seemingly deciding that is not his problem right now, before moseying his way over to the bed. He sits on the edge, propping his back to the wall a few feet away from Scott, dipping his head toward him conspiratorially, “What doesn’t do it for me about straight guys?” Wow, he’s making a lot of eye contact.