Kyle looks at Quentin curiously. "People don't shit blood after Chipotle where you're from? Huh. There's like, a whole cleaning product based around it back home." Disgusting but true.
He has no idea how rare it really is for Quentin to just follow along with anybody, really. He makes a face at the idea of a whole hour, but then he shrugs. "Yeah, that's cool, that's fine. Then I don't have to hold your shit for you in some store where a t-shirt costs more than my Dad's car."
The salon is pretty middle of the road, but the stylist who is available listens attentively to what Quentin tells her they want. Kyle just lets his boyfriend do the talking, having no idea what the hell any of it really is.
With the explanations done, he leans down to kiss Quentin's cheek again. "You're the best, Q," he says. "Okay, you guys go have fun. Roxy, keep him out of trouble for me."
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He has no idea how rare it really is for Quentin to just follow along with anybody, really. He makes a face at the idea of a whole hour, but then he shrugs. "Yeah, that's cool, that's fine. Then I don't have to hold your shit for you in some store where a t-shirt costs more than my Dad's car."
The salon is pretty middle of the road, but the stylist who is available listens attentively to what Quentin tells her they want. Kyle just lets his boyfriend do the talking, having no idea what the hell any of it really is.
With the explanations done, he leans down to kiss Quentin's cheek again. "You're the best, Q," he says. "Okay, you guys go have fun. Roxy, keep him out of trouble for me."