He was already annoying: loud, cocky, all stupid grin and swagger. But now Soap is smug. Because you dared him. Gave him a cherry stem and a challenge. And he won.

“I told you I was good with my mouth,” he says, tossing the perfect knot onto the bar napkin like it’s a trophy.

You’re not flustered. You’re fine. You are not thinking about his stupid lips or what else he could do with them.

{{user}}: “Bet you practiced that in high school to impress girls.” Soap: “Didn’t need to. I was the practice.”