Page 55 of Butterfly

“You knew,” Ollie murmured. “Of course you knew.”

Sebastian and Teddy were friends. He would’ve known about the dead rat drug smuggling scam.

Teddy ruffled Ollie’s hair, then sat down on his bed.

“This is for you,” Ollie said, turning to him. “A gift from Sebastian.”

Teddy cocked his head, intrigued.

Ollie reached inside, forcing his fingers around what felt like a tub. He wrinkled his brow as he pulled it out and up to his eyes so he could see what was inside. He came nose to nose withmaggotsand yelped, letting go.

Teddy caught the tub before it hit the ground.

“Maggots, fucking maggots.”

Teddy inspected the tub, then his smile lit up the cell. He shook his head. Not maggots. Ollie knew they weren’t; Teddy had shown him anactualpicture of a maggot, but anything small, and wriggly, was a maggot in his eyes.

It was now a descriptive word.

Sebastian had sent Teddy caterpillars. Four of them. They were black, furry, and had what looked like a row of spikes down their backs. Ollie gagged.

Teddy rolled his eyes with a fond look.

“I’m sorry,” Ollie said. “They just make me feel gross.”

The smile on Teddy’s lips began to fade.

“We’re keeping them, though,” Ollie blurted before it went out altogether. “In here.” He pointed to the small sill in front of their window. “Up there.”

Teddy’s smile grew to a dazzling grin again. He nodded.

“But I swear, Teddy, if I wake up to one burrowing into my ear, eating my brain, I won’t be happy with you.”

Teddy surged up and smacked a kiss to Ollie’s mouth.

“And we have to put a towel or something over them when we’re intimate. I don’t want to get distracted…or, more likely, for you to get distracted.”

Teddy chuckled but agreed with another nod.

“And if you start to give them more attention than me, I will throw them out of the window.”

Teddy froze, wide-eyed.

“I was joking,” Ollie said. He pouted. “But kind of not too.”

Teddy took hold of Ollie’s hand. He turned it over until his palm was flat.

“Hell no.” Ollie snatched his hand back. “I’m not holding them. They might burrow through my skin and up to my skull.”

Teddy scrunched his face, giving Ollie a look as if to say,What the hell happened to you?

“Nothing,” Ollie said. “I just don’t like creepy crawlies, and they”—he pointed at the tub—“are both creepy and crawly. They’re your thing. I prefer dogs, cats, rabbits. You know, cute things that won’t eat your brain.”

Teddy raised his eyebrow; it kept lifting and lifting.

“If you keep that up, you’ll have hair on your head again.”

The caterpillars were carefully placed on the windowsill, then Teddy attacked Ollie with tickles and wet raspberries blown into his neck until he surrendered, apologising profusely.

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