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Summary
"i'm younger than you, but i'm not that young," porsche says, and kinn just laughs at him.
"that's exactly what a young person would say." kinn looks at him, not the way he had earlier, like he was cataloguing all of the places he wanted to touch, but actually looks at him; their eyes meet, and porsche sticks his tongue out, just to see kinn laugh again; smile wide, with all of his teeth, eyes glittering.
"you say that like you're old," porsche says, when the laughter tapers off, and kinn is taking another sip of his drink; the air feels lighter, now, and he doesn't know where the space between them went; he doesn't know when their legs started touching, when kinn's hand wrapped around his ankle, feet close enough to be in his lap, but not quite.
“i’m surely almost three times your age,” he says with a raised brow; he's not wrong, according to the card and the candles he'd seen on the kitchen counter; happy fifty-ninth birthday.
Series
- Part 3 of gettin' nuttin' for drollmas