"Excellent. You have to score me afterwards. Multiple categories, ten-point-system. It's like figure skating." Hartley packs the groceries into a bag, carefully placing the happy cow milk inside it first. Doesn't keep him from keeping up the admittedly and obviously ridiculous conversation. "Less gay than figure skating."

Because even wiggling on his boyfriend's lap has to be less gay than that. He's watched Yuri on Ice, he knows what he's talking about. The cashier, evidently, does not. But that's part of the fun.