Felix Fox kneels over Joey Mills, his fingers slick with melted butter as he scoops a glob onto a kernel before shoving it into Mills’ mouth. The popcorn drips down Mills’ chin, sticky and warm, while he leans back into the couch, his jaw working around the salty, buttery bite. Fox’s hands move fast, buttering another handful before Mills grabs the bucket, feeding himself with rough, eager strokes. The couch cushions creak under them as Mills licks his fingers clean, watching Fox’s next load with hungry anticipation.
+12+11+10+9+8+7
