"Fuck you," Terrence said, laughing. "Fuck you and that pansy bullshite. Gentle isn't even in my vocabulary."
True, that. He'd managed a semblance of gentleness before, but Anthony's words had brought to mind his first time with Ella. Her first time. No, first times were definitely better without any hand-holding.
He sat down easily on the couch beside Anthony, aiming a relatively friendly punch at his head, and even though he pulled the punch, he did intend for it to hurt. Just a little bit.
"You're not turning me into a louche," he informed him. "I'm supposed to be turning you into a bad arse outlaw. What's bad arse about sitting around smoking all day?" Nothing, in his opinion. Of course, it would probably be fun, which was why he wasn't objecting. But Terrence wasn't made for sitting around doing drugs.
He held out his hand, expression amused. "Go on then, you fucking poofter. Pop my pot cherry."