This time, the model was holding – Angelo couldn’t believe his eyes – a bouquet of roses and a stuffed…turtle?

“You did not bring me flowers.” The words were filled with disbelief but also a hint of laughter.

Phoebus smiled sheepishly, holding out the roses and turtle. Angelo accepted them, shaking his head and muttering, “I’m not a girl, you know.”

“I know you’re not,” Phoebus answered, beginning to follow him into the apartment but stopping short when he spotted Alex sitting on the couch. “Oh,” he murmured. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

Angelo, who had begun to hunt for a vase, snorted. “He doesn’t qualify as company. This is my friend, Alex. Alex, this is Phoebus.”

The two men nodded at each other. It was then that Phoebus noticed the laptop that was still resting on the couch – and that was still opened to the picture of himself.

Angelo, who had given up the search for a vase and instead settled on using a large pitcher, froze when he saw what Phoebus was looking at. But Phoebus merely commented, “I never liked that picture.”

“Oh, I did.” Alex’s words were practically dripping with lust. Angelo shot him an angry look and hastily changed the subject. “So what’s up with the turtle, Phoebus? Doesn’t tradition say that you’re supposed to get me a stuffed bear or something?”

“Tradition can always be changed,” was the mild response. “I thought you seemed like the kind of guy who would like turtles.”

2 weeks ago · 0 notes · Source