“Yeah, but if your mom and dad hadn’t gotten together at least twice, I’d be severely lacking two of the greatest dudes to ever exist in my life, and then I’d be stuck dealing with Lewis and Judas all on my lonesome,” Claudia pointed out, habitually running her fingers through Dyson’s hair just because she liked the feel of it on a sensory level.
“So thank god, or whatever combination of booze and bad ideas it was that got your parents to bone, ‘cause I do.”
Dyson paused before shrugging. “Ever noticed that asshole one and asshole two have names that fucking rhyme? It’s like they were destined to be douchebags together,” he pointed out, suddenly far too amused by the oddness of that working out.
“I think that’s called moonshine and depression on dad’s part? He gets really bad around the same time of year and gets shit faced and mom sort of mops him up off of the bar floor.”




