[ he continues grinding himself against sunday even as the kiss breaks and he pants against his mouth, shuffling them in the direction of the stovetop so he can move the sizzling pan onto another burner. he doesn’t want to ruin his sister’s breakfast… even if he is going to delay it. ] Sunday. [ he captures his lips again, a frenetic urgency behind each and every kiss he’s giving him. ] Sunday Sunday.

It’s still early… there’s still plenty of time to make breakfast, yeah… [ he tilts his head, one of his hands giving his hip a squeeze. ] I have an idea.