Re: Billy/Tandy: the neighborhood
Billy laughed at Tandy’s expression, the sound of it warm and close within the walls of his bedroom. “He’s actually pretty cool, I swear. He was considered, like, a genius in the sixties for being revolutionary and controversial. He was even friends with Dali.” Billy didn’t think the guy could be blamed for the fact that teenaged boys didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to bathe in cologne when you put it on. And Billy didn’t wear cologne, either. His body wash smelled like patchouli and his shampoo was sweet orange and lemongrass.
It was funny, to think that they were alike in that way, but Tandy had a point. Billy listened with a quirk to his lips, but he also nodded. “Okay, maybe part of me wants to, but there’s a bigger part that doesn’t. Not right now.” He had at least enough self-awareness to know that you didn’t try to extinguish a napalm fire with gasoline-soaked rags.
“That you know of,” he corrected again and the finger was back, levelled cheekily at Tandy’s chest as Billy grinned.