Page 72 of How Not to Date an Angel

“Well, come on, that was kind of a silly question—does it hurt?” he mocked. “Of course it hurts, dicks are sensitive, y’know?” he drawled, waving a hand at Rami.

Impossibly, Rami’s cheeks flushed even more, and they turned away. In their embarrassment, they didn’t even consider that the question might have been rhetorical. “I think I’ve seen quite enough. Are you done here?”

The pause was extremely telling, and Rami hastened their steps on the way out of the store, not even bothering to wave to the clerk, who wasn’t paying attention anyway, smacking on their bubblegum.

Surely Julian knew that angels don't—that they aren't—

“Wait,wait, wait,” Julian chanted as he pushed through the glass door, steps quickening to keep pace with Rami. “What are you running off for? What was that about?”

The cold air did little to cool their cheeks, and they walked in a hurry down the sidewalk.

Rami’s fretting must have been enough to clue Julian in, because his steps disappeared for a moment before he caught back up.

“Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

Rami stared at him, wild eyed, considering where they’d just come from.

“—Okay, I see now that sounds hypocritical, but I mean it. I do! Uh, where are we going?”

“To a bakery. I need something sweet to make up for the trauma you just subjected me to.”

“A bakery?” Julian asked, interest coloring his tone. “Sign me up.”

The topic of sex dropped altogether, and Rami was relieved. They walked to the bakery, and Rami greeted the clerk behind the bar by name, staring through the glass and attempting to narrow down their favorites while he busied himself behind the counter.

“What do you like?” Rami asked Julian.

“Well, I’m not sure,” Julian replied.

“Do you like chocolate? Citrus? Powdered sugar?” they questioned. “Little cakes, or donuts or croissants or brownies?”

Julian paused, staring at the selection beneath the glass. Rami startled a moment later when Julian nudged their arm. “I likeeverything.”

Rami’s eyes widened under Julian’s gaze locked on them, intent and purposeful.

Rami swallowed and flicked his attention to the multiple pastries. “Everything?”

“It’s true. No preference. Jelly-filled donuts. Long johns. Bonbons,” he tilted his head, eyes twinkling in the bakery lighting.

Was he saying…?

Rami resisted a scoff in front of the waiting clerk. It shouldn’tmatterwhat Julian thought, or the kind of person he was attracted to, and whether Rami fit into that mold, and yet… it did.

Rami pursed their lips. “And what if—what if I said neither filled donuts nor long johns felt… right? To me.”

“Meaning…?” Julian hedged.

Rami stuck their hands in their pockets and rocked back on their heels. “Meaning… the pastry case is just a case.”

Julian blinked at them, then cocked his head to the side. “Still?”

Rami nodded. Julian shrugged.

“Well, Feathers, to that I’d say… alright. No big deal. But I do have a lot more questions than I can ask right here,” he said. His golden eyes were light, the smile he offered reaching them. Rami stared back, unsure how to answer, and unsure of this light, fizzy feeling in their chest—

“Uh, so, what do you guys want?” the clerk asked.

Rami stiffened, having momentarily forgotten just where they were, what they were doing.

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