Summary:

It sits with him. And there were no nice men in Montreal? It burns in his mind, a slow, dreadful smolder. It fogs across his thoughts, cloying and terrible. What a stupid, awful question. What a fucking weird thing to say about his— about his boyfriend. No nice men in Montreal? And all he'd said was I don't know. He's a terrible person. OR: Shane thinks he should be better at this whole boyfriend thing, no matter how new it is.