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Summary
“Let’s practice.” The kettle whistles on the stove, high and insistent, filling the small kitchen with a sharp, steady sound. Neither of them moves to turn it off.
Por’s hand tightens slowly around the edge of the counter. “I’m sorry?”
TeeTee shrugs one shoulder like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, his gaze drifting toward the granite behind Por for a second before settling back on him. “Kissing,” he clarifies. “Or whatever. P’Arm’s had so many omegas before me,” he adds, a little too casually, fingers tapping lightly against the countertop. “And I barely had a first kiss.” He hesitates, then forces a small laugh. “I just want to be good for him.”
Por doesn’t answer right away, and his expression doesn’t change much either, but TeeTee notices the way his shoulders go still, the way his grip on the counter tightens slightly.
“So,” Por says, too even, controlled, “you want to, what- practice with me so you can make it better for him?”
TeeTee shrugs again. “Why not? It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”
or: teetee just wants to be good at loving someone. too bad the only person he really cares about being good for is his p'por