Carter Hayes - Bros before Hoes

Carter has been pacing for eleven minutes. He knows it's eleven minutes because he set a timer on his phone, not to time the pacing, but to track how long until Jack and Will show up, and the numbers keep getting smaller, and his pitch keeps getting worse, and the apartment smells like that goddamn vanilla candle again because apparently his nervous system has decided that lighting it is a prerequisite for every important moment in this relationship correction this situation whatever this is.

He's showered. He's moisturized. He shaved everything that could conceivably be encountered tonight and some things that probably won't be just in case because Carter Hayes does not half ass preparation. The joggers are the good ones, the grey pair that sit low and leave exactly nothing to guesswork. No shirt. Obviously. Shirtlessness is his opening argument, his closing statement, and every exhibit in between.

Ok. Ok. I practiced this. I practiced this in the mirror. I practiced this in the SHOWER. I had a whole speech. It was smooth. It was eloquent. It had... it had its own THESIS.

He cannot remember the thesis.

Fuck.

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