There was glitter on his hands.
“I should punch you in the mouth,” I said. I didn’t know if he would hear me. Television. 3 am. Beer.
Outside rain hit the pavement with a hiss.
“Oh, yeah?” he said. He had beautiful, big eyes. He aimed them at me, but they didn’t quite focus.
“Yeah,” I said. I took a swig of my beer. “Yeah, I should beat you senseless.”
“Yeah?” he said. He let his head loll back against the couch. Those big eyes closed. The couch was the color of puke.
“Yeah. I’ll drag you into that bedroom and I’ll swat your ass til it’s red and covered in welts.”
He shook his head lazily from side to side.
“Why do you want to cover me in welts?” He was having trouble focusing. “There are much better things we could do in the bedroom.”
“It’s my fetish,” I told him.
“Yeah?” he said. I don’t think any of the conversation was registering in his brain.
“And you couldn’t do anything else in that bedroom right now,” I said.
“Probably,” he said. He scratched at his crotch with one hand. The glitter around his fingernails shimmered.
“So who is she?” I asked. I finished my beer and set it on the floor. I slid my foot up his leg and kicked his hand out of the way. I could feel his dick through his jeans, through his boxers. I nudged it with my toes. “Some little slut?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Some little slut.”
“Oh?” I ground my heel into his thigh. “And do you like to bone?”
His big eyes opened. He looked around and squinted at the light. I couldn’t tell whether he recognized the place. The television was on too loud so we could hear it over the rain. I wasn’t paying attention to the television. I was thinking about that first night when he held my hand under the table at the diner. Like we were sharing a secret.
“We should go to bed,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
He fixed his gaze on me, trying to keep his eyelids up. “I like you,” he said.
“Yeah?” I said.
He closed his eyes. The floor was littered with empty bottles. I turned off the TV. I didn’t know how much I’d remember in the morning.
“Bill,” I said. He made a noise, but I’m sure he was asleep. “I like the magical moments better than the sober ones.”