know he’s only a secondary—”
“No, no,” Kenny said, opening up his laptop and booting up. He pulled his tablet and stylus out of the pocket in his lime-green case and hooked them up with a cable. “Here….” Oh geez, it always seemed to take forever for the tablet to connect. Okay. Here. His brain was whirling, and he took the stylus to the pad and started working. “Now this is just a minimal thing—I don’t know what style you prefer, more pencil lines or bigger, thicker ink lines. I like the finer lines, but some people find that cluttered—”
“No,” Will said definitively. “I like the detail you have there. Maybe some heavier lines around the eyes—make them narrow, not all big and round.”
“Oooh, yeah,” Kenny said, liking that. “No woodland forest creature eyes for this guy, he’s gonna fuck you up!”
“Or fuck you,” Will said, grimacing.
Kenny looked at the bear and laughed. “Oopsie! Maybe not so much penis in a naked creature.” He giggled, feeling completely dorky, and snuck a look at Will.
Who was giggling like a fifth-grader too.
“Oh my God!” Will said, clapping his hand over his mouth. “I hadn’t even gotten to their mating rituals!”
Kenny’s shoulders were shaking, but he still managed to eliminate the stray line and fill it in with sexless fur. “Well, since we want to market to young adults too, let’s stick with asexual reproduction,” he said firmly, and Will nodded.
“Yeah. That would be best. God knows kids don’t have any idea what sex is when they’re thirteen.”
Kenny snorted indelicately. “Then they are looking at entirely the wrong books,” he said frankly. “My fist and I were best friends by the time I was thirteen. My mother made me start washing my own sheets—she didn’t say why, but trust me, we both knew.”
“Yeah?” Will asked curiously, and Kenny snuck a look at him before moving his first sketch aside and starting on one of the two main characters. He hadn’t said a word about the little bag Kenny had left on Saturday, not one little word. Kenny figured that maybe it hadn’t been up his alley, and he would have felt a little disappointed, but he was having too much fun.
Will had texted him at work that afternoon with an offer of takeout and some character bibles, and, well, hell.
Kenny loved his house—he loved the colors he’d painted the walls (terra-cotta and sky blue), and he loved the wood panel flooring he’d put down without Gif’s help, and he loved the new drapes he’d picked out on his way home from work Saturday (green and blue paisley), and he loved his psychotic longhair cat.
What he did not love was the prospect of sitting in that house and thinking of all the things that Gif and he would not be doing if they hadn’t broken up. They wouldn’t be watching television, because Gif didn’t like sci-fi or crime fic or humor or basically anything with a plot. They wouldn’t be listening to music because Gif only liked club music, and Kenny liked it only when they were going to a club. They wouldn’t be going to a club because Gif never had any money to pay for the cover or the drinks, and Kenny was too worried about making the mortgage, even though his job was panning out.
And they wouldn’t be taking a walk in the park because Gif thought that was stupid.
So sitting here with this plain, pleasant man, drawing pictures of his dreams—that was a definite improvement.
“What was the sigh for?” Will said, breaking into his thoughts, and Kenny grimaced.
“Sorry. Just… you know….”
Will’s look was infinitely compassionate. “You’re missing the guy you kicked out three days ago, and I’m not him.”
“Well, you’re probably better,” Kenny said practically. “You’re more interesting and you brought food, so I don’t think you’re a freeloader, but, well, yeah. I keep wondering where I went wrong with Gif.”
Will patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Did you see what I brought
“No, no,” Kenny said, opening up his laptop and booting up. He pulled his tablet and stylus out of the pocket in his lime-green case and hooked them up with a cable. “Here….” Oh geez, it always seemed to take forever for the tablet to connect. Okay. Here. His brain was whirling, and he took the stylus to the pad and started working. “Now this is just a minimal thing—I don’t know what style you prefer, more pencil lines or bigger, thicker ink lines. I like the finer lines, but some people find that cluttered—”
“No,” Will said definitively. “I like the detail you have there. Maybe some heavier lines around the eyes—make them narrow, not all big and round.”
“Oooh, yeah,” Kenny said, liking that. “No woodland forest creature eyes for this guy, he’s gonna fuck you up!”
“Or fuck you,” Will said, grimacing.
Kenny looked at the bear and laughed. “Oopsie! Maybe not so much penis in a naked creature.” He giggled, feeling completely dorky, and snuck a look at Will.
Who was giggling like a fifth-grader too.
“Oh my God!” Will said, clapping his hand over his mouth. “I hadn’t even gotten to their mating rituals!”
Kenny’s shoulders were shaking, but he still managed to eliminate the stray line and fill it in with sexless fur. “Well, since we want to market to young adults too, let’s stick with asexual reproduction,” he said firmly, and Will nodded.
“Yeah. That would be best. God knows kids don’t have any idea what sex is when they’re thirteen.”
Kenny snorted indelicately. “Then they are looking at entirely the wrong books,” he said frankly. “My fist and I were best friends by the time I was thirteen. My mother made me start washing my own sheets—she didn’t say why, but trust me, we both knew.”
“Yeah?” Will asked curiously, and Kenny snuck a look at him before moving his first sketch aside and starting on one of the two main characters. He hadn’t said a word about the little bag Kenny had left on Saturday, not one little word. Kenny figured that maybe it hadn’t been up his alley, and he would have felt a little disappointed, but he was having too much fun.
Will had texted him at work that afternoon with an offer of takeout and some character bibles, and, well, hell.
Kenny loved his house—he loved the colors he’d painted the walls (terra-cotta and sky blue), and he loved the wood panel flooring he’d put down without Gif’s help, and he loved the new drapes he’d picked out on his way home from work Saturday (green and blue paisley), and he loved his psychotic longhair cat.
What he did not love was the prospect of sitting in that house and thinking of all the things that Gif and he would not be doing if they hadn’t broken up. They wouldn’t be watching television, because Gif didn’t like sci-fi or crime fic or humor or basically anything with a plot. They wouldn’t be listening to music because Gif only liked club music, and Kenny liked it only when they were going to a club. They wouldn’t be going to a club because Gif never had any money to pay for the cover or the drinks, and Kenny was too worried about making the mortgage, even though his job was panning out.
And they wouldn’t be taking a walk in the park because Gif thought that was stupid.
So sitting here with this plain, pleasant man, drawing pictures of his dreams—that was a definite improvement.
“What was the sigh for?” Will said, breaking into his thoughts, and Kenny grimaced.
“Sorry. Just… you know….”
Will’s look was infinitely compassionate. “You’re missing the guy you kicked out three days ago, and I’m not him.”
“Well, you’re probably better,” Kenny said practically. “You’re more interesting and you brought food, so I don’t think you’re a freeloader, but, well, yeah. I keep wondering where I went wrong with Gif.”
Will patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Did you see what I brought
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