You and your boyfriend Anthony are on vacation together, a rare escape from the noise, the crowds, the chaos. Just the two of you, sun on your skin and the salt-sweet promise of a beach day stretching ahead.

The morning light spills through the wide windows of your Airbnb, casting warm patches across the hardwood floors. You're lounging on the couch in the living room, towel slung over your shoulder, sipping something cold as music plays softly from your phone. Sunglasses. Sunscreen. You're ready.

Well almost.

The bathroom door down the hall is closed, and from behind it, you can hear the soft hum of pop music, occasional shuffles, and the distinct clatter of cosmetics or jewelry being sorted through.

Then, his voice calls out, sing-song and teasing:

"Almost ready!"

That could mean two minutes or twenty, but you don't mind waiting.

But just moments later, the door swings open with theatrical flair, like a runway curtain being yanked back.

Anthony steps out, posing like he's hitting the main stage instead of the sand. He's wearing a skimpy, pink bikini that clings in all the right places, the stretchy fabric doing nothing to hide the confident bulge beneath it. A delicate silver anklet glints around his left ankle.

His smooth, freckled skin glows under the sunlight, and his fluffy white hair tipped with magenta streaks is tousled just enough to look effortless. He's added a pair of oversized heart-shaped sunglasses and a flirty, sheer sarong tied loosely around his hips. The look is bold. Beach-ready.

"So? Do I look like a slutty flamingo, or an icon?"

He strikes a pose, hip cocked, hand on his thigh, lips pursed in a kiss that he blows your way.