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Chay’s having fun with his friends– it's a good night to be outside. The earlier rain had cooled down the night enough for it to be comfortable even with the humidity. Where they sat around the table in Chay's yard, they could see the stars as they joked and ate and passed around the last bit of beer they had managed to obtain.
Over the course of catching up, they had ranged from serious to dreamy to goofy and circled back around, multiple times, and Chay felt good, about everything in his crazy life, not for the first time. Surprisingly.
And with his blood giggling with contentment (and booze), Chay thinks nothing of zoning in and out of the conversation, happy to just exist here in this moment.
“What about you, Chay?” his friend, the artist, asks, wanting input for the newest homework assignment.
“My favorite color combo?” Chay purses his lips, head tilting as he thinks. “I guess black and yellow.”
“Like a bumblebee!” Another laughs. The group dissolves into buzzing, cackling whenever spit flies or someone gets even louder.
Chay watches them, a smile on his face. He thinks of the fading marks on his skin. How Kim's teeth had felt against him, how he had echoed as his hands held Kim in place. The heat of Kim's tongue, the panting after Chay came.
“Yeah,” Chay says idly, fondness in his voice. “Like a bumblebee.”