After one of the particularly intense encounters I had with Switch, I was fairly impressed the boy knew to be mindful of aftercare. It was around eleven o’clock at night and I was that the point of subspace where things felt a little fuzzy and I felt a little high. 

Switch smoothed some of my hair back and kissed my temple. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

“Um,” I replied, “could we eat something now?”

He started laughing. “What do you want?”

And that was how I discovered the magic that is post-subspace quesadillas.