"Sweet, sweet Pam, don't ask that kind of shit," Felix lamented playfully, mostly joking, though trying to come up with a list, and the memories attached, would likely make him feel a little nauseous. "Yeah, I'll meet you back here, I've gotta get my shoes back on anyway."
He dropped his dishes off, giving them a cursory rinse and an entirely silent, completely non-committal promise to no one that he might make some cursory sort of effort to come back and properly wash them later. He returned to the game room and slid his feet into his shoes, taking the opportunity to check his phone again, staring at Lennon's reply, and for once not really knowing how to respond when his general reflex was to go for "funny and raunchy" and he really wasn't feeling much of the latter. He almost thought to ask Lennon if he wanted to come by and watch a movie later, wondering how he might be able to sneak in that sex wasn't on the table without being obvious about it. It wasn't that he didn't think Lennon would come over if they weren't going to sleep together, which was yet another stupid thing he didn't want to think about, but that him asking, or even implying would somehow be suspicious in some way. He'd say something and Lennon would probably ask what was wrong. Or maybe he wouldn't. Or he probably wouldn't, especially if Felix offered some half-assed 'I'm too worn out from collecting ladybugs with Pam to blow you, but do you want to just lounge around and watch fucking dinosaurs for a couple of hours because I got you the thing you asked for'. And didn't that sort of rankle, on top of making to the summit of the list of things that would never be caught coming out of his actual fucking mouth, right along with the addendum of 'but we can snuggle, if you're down with it'. No, he didn't need to mention shit to Lennon. He wasn't even going to invite him over. Fuck him. Or whatever the dirtiest word for the exact opposite there was. Purposefully aggressive abstinence in Lennon's general fucking direction. He didn't need company. He could watch fucking dinosaurs on the sex couch alone.
Fucking sex couch.
He only started typing when he was fairly certain he heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, calling out to Pam when he figured she'd be within earshot. "There weren't a lot of lizards in Chicago, but I had a friend who owned a snake for a while. That didn't freak me out so I figured 'lizards, but no hands or feet' is a pretty good baseline."