Tommy pretended to think. "You're right. I suck as a maid. I can be a kept boy. You have the money and class and I have just the class since the money is gone. Right, I'll be a kept boy, minus the sex, because you've become boring in your old age."
He snorted. "You make it sound like a jail sentence." Tommy turned his chair to look at Oliver, forgetting all about the food. "You thought this would be different if we got involved. You can't really call it 'seeing each other' since we've never not seen each other. But, really, it's not different at all. It's just us, it's just as good, but now I get to kiss you, which is... nice.
"The weird part is not fucking, not that I'm saying that we have to right now." What the fuck was he even trying to say? He didn't even know. He always started with a point, but seemed to get lost while their discussion went elsewhere. He groaned. "You know what? I'll shut up now, and we can finish dinner."