Chapter Text
A lot could be said about there being no substitute for hard work. About perseverance and dedication and how they breed success. Teach a man to fish and all that. A lot could also be said about all that bullshit Sebastian read on those fucking motivational posters you’d sometimes see hanging in offices, placed there to sucker people into believing their careers have meaning, value, that they don’t suck.
Which they do, by the way.
That’s the reason he refuses to get a job.
He isn’t lazy per se. He goes to class. He studies hard- ish. He just has better things to do with his time. Especially better than spending his summer pulling shifts at some lame ass nine to five. He’s a man of leisure. Needs downtime. Likes to sleep late. Maybe spends that time in the company of some hot babes. Goes to a kegger at the frat house. Not his frat house, because he’s not in a fraternity. Only douchey tool bags join frats. That being said, they also throw some hella crazy parties. Parties that sometimes lead to him getting insanely drunk. Like blackout drunk. Like, one minute you’re being held up by your ankles, doing a keg stand surrounded by guys cheering you on, to the next, waking up naked, save for a strategically placed sign reading ‘bitches love me’, surrounded by a bunch of angry Women’s Lib students, drunk.
Fucking douchey tool bags.
Anyway, after having his father buy his way out of expulsion, he’s been cut off, forced to learn some responsibility. “Sebastian we expect...” blah, blah, blah, “no son of mine...” yackety smackety, “...better get your shit together”.
Which is how he ends up here, in this rainbow and pastel Hell in the mall, slinging candy to every middle aged woman with a sweet tooth and bratty ass kid looking for a sugar high.
Don’t fucking judge him, ok? Obviously no one in their right mind chooses to work in a candy store, but it’s summer. All the mall jobs are filled by loser high school students. There had only been three choices.
His first choice had been the sales clerk position at Victoria’s Secret; which, let’s face it, was a disaster waiting to happen. He would easily talk his way out of a job and into a sexual harassment complaint. He’s mature enough to know that he was never going to be mature enough for that job.
Sue him he likes the ladies.
Next hiring was Hot Topic, and it’ll be a cold day in Hell before he’s forced to work in a place where he would be surrounded by angsty fucking teenagers who thought that they were rebellious and unique, clad in overpriced, ripped up jeans and black t-shirts covered in safety pins, like some gothic arts and crafts project, all while being yelled at by ‘NOW That’s What I Call Scene, Vol. Fuck Off,’ first thing in the morning.
Fuck that place.
So that left Funtom Candy, relatively low key. The place was typically empty whenever he passed by, which was ideal because he planned on doing just enough not to get fired. Hey, you get what you pay for, and he’s only making minimum wage. In his books that means minimum effort. All he has to do is just get through the first few training days and it’ll be smooth sailing. Just how he likes it.
***
Yesterday was payday, so today’s shopping day. Ciel’s already set money aside for his car payment, paid his mom back for the concert tickets she bought him last month, and even has money left over after forking over the rent his dad makes him pay so that he’s contributing ‘like a responsible adult’. So he splurged: new rose gold barrettes for his cotton candy blue hair, an off the shoulder sweater that shows off his prominent collarbone as well as the delicately tattooed birds that fly across it. Tights. Shiny, new lip gloss. And a manicure to keep his nails trim and sparkly.
He feels like a million bucks, and now he looks like it too. He’s ready for his date tonight, but he has to put in a few hours at work first. He waltzes into Funtom Candy like he has thousands of times before, humming the familiar tune playing overhead as he tosses a pack of bubblegum into a small basket, along with a handful of lollies and fizzies, adorns his wrists and neck with candy bracelets and necklaces and tucks a pixie stick behind his ear.
He stops dead in his tracks, his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum when he sees the dark-haired boy behind the register getting trained by Ronald.
“Holy fuckballs,” he hisses under his breath, getting in line behind two other customers.
So cute. No! Hot! Smoking hot!
But completely uninterested in what the other employee is showing him. Arrogant. But still one hundred and ten percent hot.
***
As expected, the morning had been relatively uneventful -- which is good because Sebastian is still been nursing a hangover. What? He still has two years before he’s required to be a functioning adult.
Ronald had greeted him at the door and he began his day with a tour of the shop. The standard ‘here are the lights, locks, money’ type of deal. After that they had moved on to the a bunch of candy jargon, weights, pricing and junk.
That led to the cash register. Which is where they are now. Ronny, as he will hence be known, is in the process of showing him how to ring up a customer. It’s not that he’s not paying attention, he is kinda, it’s just, it’s a basic machine. Whether he’s lazy or not, he definitely isn’t a moron, monkeys could run this store.
Instead, he allows his attention to wander to the cute little bubblegum lesbian that just hopped into line. She’s cute, put together well, no tits, but he figures himself an ass man anyway. She’s kinda boyish, but incredibly pretty. He can definitely see himself eating the candy she’s hoarding right off her neck. It’s time to turn on the Michaelis charm; picking up girls that were into girls is a lot harder, but he’s up for the challenge.
“Hello?” Ciel waves his hand in front of the new employee’s face. Jesus, either he’s stoned or lost in the thicket of his brain. No tell-tale red-rimmed eyes, but his mouth’s slack like some daydreaming idiot.
“Ron, where’d you pick this one up?” he asks, popping the red lollipop he’d opened while waiting forever in line from out of his mouth. He licks his glossy lips to taste the remnants of spicy cinnamon and dumps his hoard of sweets onto the counter.
“This is Sebastian, he started today,” Ronald tells the the little thing, his tone one of exasperation as he shrugs, “he was the only one who applied and we were desperate.”
“Et Tu Ronny? And here I thought we had bonded over the gross net weight of Swedish fish....” Sebastian interjects, nudging Ronald out of his way, and turning his focus on the pretty little thing in front of him.
“Don’t listen to him, they practically begged me to take the job,” he smirks grabbing the candy to ring it up.
“Again, only applicant… desperate,” Ronald mutters, crossing his arms, watching to make sure Sebastian does everything correctly.
Sebastian rolls his eyes and leans onto the counter, resting his chin in his hand. “Do you plan on paying for these?” He asks smiling, using his free hand to reach forward and finger the candy around Ciel’s neck.
Ciel playfully nips the digit gently pulling on the flimsy elastic band that keeps the candy around his neck. His tongue’s barely poked out, but it samples the other boy’s skin nonetheless. Mmm… Sweet, like it’s been sneaking candies when the manager isn’t looking. A bad boy.
“Ron, did you even check that this guy doesn’t have a criminal record?” Ciel asks quirking a shapely brow, “Theft? Sexual harassment?” Then he turns his attention to the new employee, takes off the jewelry and smirks, “You can’t go around touching customers like that, Sebastian.”
Huh, well that’s definitely not the response Sebastian’s expecting. Bold, a bit snarky, still likely a lesbian. He can dig it.
“Well sweetheart, you just had your mouth on me,” he reasons, picking the necklace up and weaving it through his fingers. “I was just trying to save you from a shopping lifting charge.”
At this Ronald clears his throat. “Of course I ran a background check, your father would have killed me if I hadn’t.”
“Better you than me,” Ciel snorts. He looks up at the unicorn clock behind the counter and sighs, disgust clear in the way he blows air from his cheeks, pushing his pastel fringe upwards. He spent too much time waiting in line and now he doesn’t get to binge on his confectionery treasures. All Sebastian’s fault; if he hadn’t been so slow…
As Sebastian keeps ringing up his order, he goes behind the counter and reaches for a multi-coloured bag, accidentally brushing hot-guy’s denim-clad thigh. Asshole doesn’t even bother moving to accommodate his small hand; had he not heard he was the boss’s son?
He stuffs his loot into the bag and before he shoves it in the employee drawer behind the counter, he takes off his oversized sweater and throws it in there as well. Whatever milky skin isn’t covered by his form fitting pink tank top and the work apron he shimmies into is faintly gleaming with Lush’s Sparkling Fairy Dust powder. “I’ll take over, you’re off Ron,” he tells the manager, slapping a twenty on the counter for Sebastian.
Sebastian would like to redact his previous statement about not being a moron. He’s a complete and total idiot. Only four hours into his first shift on his first day and he manages to flirt with the boss’s kid. Correction. Boss’s son, because without the huge sweater, the soft definition in his arms, shoulders and chest is anything but mistakable. Good thing he’s only half invested in this job, because he’s probably about to lose it.
What’s more concerning is his mistaking this dude for a chick. Sebastian definitely isn’t gay. Except maybe that one time in freshman year, he and his roommate jerked each other off while watching lesbian porn, but they were both like really drunk, ok? So let’s not make it a thing.
This is clearly not Sebastian’s fault either, it’s his fault... whatever his name is. Looking all pretty. All pastel and glittery, like fools gold. Waltzing in like he owns the place. Although he kinda does. All like, ‘You can’t touch the customers Sebastian.’ Then has the nerve to practically make out with his finger and feel up his leg on top of that. And now he can’t even remember which button closes out the transaction. This is exactly why he doesn’t want a job!
Alright Sebastian, stop being dramatic and focus before you embarrass yourself. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he manages to complete the sale, and still retain enough of his acerbic self to toss the change in the tip jar, before turning to smirk at his new co-worker.
Ciel leans over the counter, on the tips of his toes in his high-tops and stretches languidly for one of those massive jawbreakers that just came in this morning. It’s huge, and it comes on a stick, just the way he likes it. How he missed it while he was waiting in line for ten minutes is beyond him.
He knows why though… stupid mahogany eyes, ridiculous jawline, just got fucked hair, and arm holes that were just a little too tight on that t-shirt. God... Sebastian isn’t even his type; he’s too… not enough… a little… Wrong. He’s all wrong for him.
And an employee, obviously.
When he’s properly back on his feet, he scribbles an IOU with the price of the jawbreaker and his name and puts it in the til.
Ciel hops up on the counter, legs swinging, back turned to the front of the store to look at Sebastian. “So,” he says, opening wide for the hard, round candy, barely fitting it into his small mouth. It sits in the crook of his cheek, making it swell from the outside. It’s delicious, butterscotch with a hint of vanilla. Very smooth. And when he pulls it out, he makes a small slurping sound and cleans the spherical surface attentively with his tongue. “What do you do, Sebastian? Other than work here?”
‘What do you do Sebastian’? What is this, a second interview? He opens his mouth about to give a some smart ass remark, but then remembers he really likes having his car and his off-campus apartment, both of which were still being paid for by his father.
So instead, he gives the generic answer he gave Ronny earlier. “I’m a student over at the university, business major.” He crosses his arms and leans his back against the register. “What about you, sunshine?”
Not really listening, Ciel’s shoves the candy back in his mouth and takes out his phone to play Patchmania while Sebastian talks about something -- business or a sunny place… maybe he’s a part-time travel agent? It is a dying industry, so it makes sense why he’d need something more to pay the bills. Ciel doesn’t want to pay attention to him, doesn’t want to hang on this smug bastard’s every word. That voice of his, deep with a teasing lilt is already getting to him.
“Uh-huh, I've been there. Lots of sun for sure,” Ciel tells him nonchalantly pulling out the jawbreaker and trying to carefully bite into it; some of the sugary grains come off and he licks it up, kitten tongue lapping at the small dent made by his eye-teeth.
A message pops up on his phone, interrupting his game. “Fuck,” he swears slamming his cute silicone squishy cat case against the counter. “Fuck. There go my plans tonight,” he fumes, “I got all dolled up for nothing.”
Sebastian watches as the kids’ face falls. Good. Serves his ass right, how dare he interrogate him and then not even have the decency to pay attention? And what the fuck is up with him being on his phone anyway?! Ron made him leave his phone in the little set of lockers in the office. Of course daddy owns the store so rules must not apply to him. Dick. A fact that makes him less than empathic. “What’s a matter, prom date stand you up sweetheart?” He questions, rolling his eyes.
Ciel shoots Sebastian a look of deepest loathing and brandishes his jawbreaker at him. “Of all the delicious flavours in the world, you decide to be salty.”
He responds to his date with a middle finger emoji and turns off his phone, storing it in the drawer holding his loot. Seeing no reason to really interact with the new employee, at least until he himself calms down, he jumps off the counter and goes to the front of the store to unpack a box of new confections that had been left next to the retro cartoon selection.
Sebastian glances at the time on the register and sighs. He still has another four hours until his shift ends. He definitely didn’t want to spend it watching his boss’ kid pout over canceled plans. So instead, he pulls his box cutter out of his back pocket heads over to join Ciel, but this isn’t the Hallmark channel and he isn’t going to apologize.
“Hey I didn’t know they still made these, they were my favorite as a kid,” he remarks pulling out several packs of candy cigarettes. “Didn’t like they like ban these or something?” He’s pretty sure he’d heard that somewhere.
Ciel shrugs, “Maybe. They have to lie to dumb kids about this stuff so they don’t get reality and fiction mixed up. Doubt it did you any good.” This guy is so oblivious, and it would have been more annoying if he hadn’t been so hot. Who follows someone when they’re pissed off?
Using one of the barrettes in his hair, he tears through the transparent tape of another box, and another and another without saying a word. He’s in his own head, trying to figure out why Bard cancelled on him. Maybe Ciel had said something stupid? Or perhaps Bard was reluctant to be seen in public with him? Or it could be that Ciel had gone out on a date with one of his friends previously? Maybe he’d met someone else... The thought roils in the pastel boy’s gut, and insecurity’s thick on his tongue when he blurts out, “D’you think I’m pretty?”
Fucking Christ! Here Sebastian is minding his own business. ‘Get a job,’ his father said. ‘You’re wasting my money and your education by being irresponsible’, he said. You know what? He had been perfectly content sailing through his college years, but no. ‘If you want me to continue to pay for school, and your car, and apartment, you had better ante up.’
The fuck does that even mean dad?!?
You know what it means? He’ll tell you what it means! It means Sebastian has to spend his junior year of college, working for slave wages, in a pastel candy store with a goddamn unicorn clock!!
A unicorn clock that’s broken, to boot. The minute hand hasn’t even moved slightly, even though he’s pretty sure, like an eternity had past as the kid watches him expectantly. No, strike that, not watches, bores into him expectantly. Does he think he’s pretty? Well, he did basically hit on him when he thought that he was a girl. But he’s not a girl! And Sebastian likes the ladies, remember? He said that earlier? Shit! He wants an answer. Oh no! What should he say? What does one say to a question like that? Better yet, who asks a question like that? Fuck! Can he see him panicking? Christ, Sebastian just answer the question!
“Uh, I mean, I guess,” he responds with an air of someone who practically invented the term nonchalant.
He guesses? He guesses? Well, there’s Ciel’s answer: Bard ditched him because he isn’t pretty enough.
Ciel swallows the lump rising in his throat, internally begging anyone to come into the store to break the awkwardness. He almost runs into the hall with fistfuls of candy to give them out as samples to lure them in. Tears well up in his eyes and make them bluer, make them sparkle.
“Kay,” he says nodding and plastering the fakest of smiles to his face, “thanks.” He gets to his feet and leaves Sebastian with the half-emptied boxes and just about jumps the poor customer who wanders in looking for sweets for her grandchildren.
Sebastian watches as the boy runs off like a kicked puppy, the beginning of tears in his eyes, as he practically assaults an elderly woman entering the store. This day just keeps getting better! What the fuck just happened?! He’d answered in the affirmative, hadn’t he? What was he supposed to do, quote some Neruda at him? He can, there was this girl once... Not the point though. The kid’s temperament is kinda all over the place.
He huffs returning to unpacking boxes and briefly wonders what had his coworker so upset. Clearly this can’t be his fault. He hadn’t even known this guy for more that a half hour. Likely, something to do with his cancelled plans. Probably best to leave him be, but Sebastian has a tendency to poke the bear, so to speak. So he’s sure to wait and ask about it later.
Once Ciel finishes helping the geriatric woman and sends her off with three bags of treats, he picks a peppermint lolly stick from his stash and leans over the cashier counter to watch the new employee work.
Big dumb horse. Broad shoulders, veiny forearms. Doesn’t wear enough colour. Could use something to moisten his chapped, full lips too. And what’s he thinking wearing those shoes? But check out the size of his feet! Ciel flushes at the implication.
He can see himself living out a Pygmalion fantasy with Sebastian, would probably call him Dudelittle, make him over and teach him how to behave like a gentleman. And so lost is he in his Victorian daydreams that he’s barely conscious of calling out to Sebastian from across the store, “What's your boyfriend like?”
The moment the question is out, Sebastian’s head whips around eyes going wide. Now you probably think this question is going to freak Sebastian out, and for split second it does. Only because it catches him off guard, ‘Your boyfriend’ is not a phrase he’s ever had directed at him, at least not in this context. However, he knows he brought this assumption on himself. So almost instantly his face relaxes into something a little more playful, more devious. He sees this moment for the opportunity it is, and he’s already taken enough shit for one day. Now is his chance to have a little fun.
It’s with this thought in mind that he makes his way over to the counter on which his little employer is leaning. He makes a point to invade his space as he brings himself eye level with the bright shiny thing, resting his chin lazily in his hand.
“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” He responds with smirk.
The small boy nibbles on the tip of his lolly stick and gives it a loud suck before pulling it out. “Will you walk into my parlour? Said the Spider to the Fly,” Ciel recites in a sing-song voice from memory. He’s not immune to Sebastian’s charm; his heart beats a little faster and his pupils eclipse the sapphire of his eyes, still, he knows he’s being toyed with. He doesn’t care. It’s a good distraction from the rejection he’s suffered today.
Ciel takes a step back when he feels Sebastian’s breath wash over his face, sweet with something spicy to it. He’s tempted to taste it first hand, but sexual harassment suits are a right pain in the ass. “I… I can just tell,” he stutters, tapping the side of his head, “I have gaydar.”
Direct hit! This little shit. Trying to derail Sebastian, and nearly succeeding too, because his first instinct is to become offended. Yet the very cute way the boy stumbles over his words is all the encouragement he needs to push forward. So he lets that gaydar thing go for now and allows his eyes to linger on Ciel’s strawberry pink lips that now shimmer with wetness left behind from the candy. Paying no mind to the fact that he might actually find them attractive, and chooses to focus on making the other more flustered.
He blinks lazily, rolling his eyes up. “Well, you’re wrong,” shifting back to his full height, “I’m actually not seeing anyone right now.”
A fact that is actually true but also not really the point.
Ciel licks his lips and swallows the peppermint-flavoured spit that’s accumulated in his mouth. He’s sure Sebastian could see the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as it goes down. He’s self-conscious about it, wants the employee to stop looking at him like that, taunting him from beneath a thick veil of perfect black lashes. Ciel bets the idiot doesn’t even have to wear mascara.
“Figures,” he says, trying to cover up how dumb Sebastian’s making him feel, but failing spectacularly when his voice shakes, “a boyfriend wouldn’t let you leave the house looking so busted, and if he did, I’d tell you to dump him.”
“Busted?!” He exclaims in mock horror. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt, and lifting it away from himself to examine it, effectively exposing his middle, “this color is just so last year.”
Sebastian’s been called a lot of things but, busted was definitely not one of them. He sees this tactic for what it is; everyone (himself included) knows that on a scale of one to ten, he’s definitely a twelve.
Letting his shirt fall back into place, he leans forward once again, this time resting on his elbows locking his fingers together, his hair falling to slightly frame his jaw.
“It’s so tough,” he huffs, blowing hair out of his eyes, “whatever shall I do?”
Take me to the office and I’ll show you, Ciel’s brain answers the tease. That glimpse of flexing abs and the sparse patch of hair leading south put him on edge. Fuck. Bard who?
He shoots a look over his shoulder towards the office twice, resisting the urge to close the store early. He knows where the store cameras are located and knows how to turn them off. Sebastian wouldn’t be the first he’s hidden from his father’s eyes.
He ignores Sebastian’s question altogether, and reaches over to his left, blindly groping the candies there, passing over licorice, gumballs and Big League Chew until it happens upon a familiar rectangular envelope. “Ever use Pop Rocks before? Not eat them, but use them?”
Oh fuck.
Have you ever been in one of those moments where you can feel your world changing at breakneck speeds? It’s in this second that Sebastian knows he should be back peddling. All his nerves screaming MISSION ABORT, because he has in fact ‘used’ pop rocks before. Not that he’s going to admit that here and now. This conversation has just taken an abrupt turn, and he knows this should be his stop. For some reason though, probably the same reason that almost got him tossed out of school, (see; he doesn’t know when to quit), not only does he take the bait, he runs with it.
Oh and see, totally a twelve...
Looking at the candy in Ciel’s hands he scrunches his eyebrows together in feigned confusion. “Used how?”
Ciel smiles sweetly, fans his long lashes against his pink-dusted cheeks, takes his gloss-covered bottom lip between his teeth and holds his hand out for Sebastian’s. The boy doesn’t hesitate in complying and Ciel finds himself admiring him for it. Gutsy or all talk?
He rips the package of raspberry-flavoured candy open with his teeth and sticks out his tongue to pour a generous measure onto it. It snaps, crackles and pops, not like the lame, soggy cereal his parents forced him to eat as a kid, but more violently. You don’t need to put your ear next to this stuff to hear it. Ciel wonders if Sebastian can hear his employer’s heart beating over the sound of fizzing. He doesn’t ask, he simply makes a fist of Sebastian’s hand, save for his index finger and plunges it into the heat of his mouth, between tightly pressed lips. His tongue curls around the digit as he sucks it in deeper so that every inch of skin is exposed to the tickling sensation of popping.
Big blue eyes never leave the new employee’s face, looking for a sign, a reaction of some sort that he’s either enjoying it or is completely repulsed by it. Is he grossed out by how wet his finger’s getting? How slippery Ciel’s tongue is? The accidental sucking sound Ciel makes as he swallows around the finger?
Sebastian can feel the tiny explosions the candy set off from the tip of his finger, all the way to his dick. Has he mentioned he’s not gay? Yeah? Good! Can someone please remind him?! Because as his eyes lock on to the pretty pink lips around his finger, his heart rate triples. All he can focus on is the soft, wet sensation of the boy’s tongue, mixed with the hot fizz in his mouth. This is the second time his finger has been in Ciel’s mouth, and the thought that comes to mind is that it should really be his cock instead. Slowly he pulls out enough to trace the boys’ full bottom lip with the pad of his finger before adding a second and sliding them both back in, with an appreciative hum. He feels his employer’s tongue slide between them and mutters a less than intelligent, “Oh.”
Not gutsy, not all talk… brazen -- that's what Sebastian is. Good, because so is Ciel. He grazes his teeth teasingly along Sebastian's fingers, lets the tips touch the back of his throat, demonstrating his lack of gag reflex. He pulls them out, sucking them the way he would a delicious candy and before Sebastian can say anything, Ciel unfolds a third finger from his otherwise clenched fist and crams all three back into his mouth.
They stretch his mouth a bit, but it still isn't as thick as Ciel would like. He closes his eyes to imagine Sebastian's cock instead, the shimmer of his nude eye shadow on full display. He’s barely aware of the tiny moaning sounds that vibrate along the length of Sebastian's fingers as he pumps them in and out from between his lips.
Sebastian has never been more grateful for anything like he is for the two feet of counter space separating them right now, because he is definitely rocking a semi right now. You can’t even blame him! It’s so fucking hot! This kid is deep throating his fingers like, Jesus... he doesn’t even know, because he’s almost certain his brain is expiring. Slowly shutting down, like a machine, in increments, until nothing. Making the only thing he can focus on the very illicit sounds coming from the very sexy throat that the tips of his fingers are brushing against.
And ain’t that something.
Sebastian slides his fingers out from between Ciel’s flushed lips, letting them drag along the side of his jaw, until they rest under his chin. He brings his thumb back to the boys mouth, and lets it trace that full bottom lip he’s quickly becoming obsessed with. He swipes it back and forth once, twice before gently drawing it apart from the other, taking notice of the purple tint, created by the red color of his soft flesh and the blue stain from the sugary candy, and all he can think about is how it will taste. So in an incredibly stupid and pretty typical of him move, he learns forward to find out.
Ciel watches as Sebastian leans in and closes his eyes. He’s tempted to meet him halfway, to bite that slight pouted lip of his and mess up his hair a bit more, but he doesn't. He pulls away, grinning as Sebastian’s seeking his mouth with no success.
“Break's over Seb. Those boxes aren't going to unpack themselves,” Ciel tells him a little hoarsely, adjusting himself behind the counter before going to the office to get the inventory paperwork.
What. The. Fuck?!
Played by his own game. Direct hit number two, and isn’t he just the fool? He wants to be mad. Like really fucking pissed, but he’s not. Not really. In fact, he’s probably more turned on. Speaking of which, he’s gonna need a moment before he does anything, this is a family place after all. And that little twink just bounced off completely unaffected. Such bullshit!
Round one: Ciel - One, Sebastian - Zero. He’ll have to remedy that. In the meantime he snags a loose Now or Later and pops in his mouth crumpling the wrapper and tossing it over his shoulder. It’ll have to do until he gets to taste sweet revenge.