“One hour.”
“And promise me you won’t make me talk to your fratty, douchey friends.”
“I promise,” Dimitri said dutifully.
“And if Mandy starts rubbing on you like a cat in heat, I will throw hands.”
“Noted.”
Dimitri held Arlo’s hand as they walked around to the back of the frat house. The easiest way to make people think they’d been there a while was to not walk through the front door and announce their arrival.
The backyard wasn’t nearly as full as the front porch and the yard which was littered with cups, bottles, and assorted accessories like half deflated beach balls and rusted lawn darts.
The icy air ensured that no smell emanated from the wall of overflowing trash cans lining the house, leaving only the crisp smell of wood burning where various couples shared Adirondack chairs around a firepit. Dimitri picked up a discarded solo cup off the porch railing, peering into it.
“If you drink that, I will most definitely vomit,” Arlo promised, horrified.
Dimitri snickered. “Take it.”
“Is this a hazing ritual? I would rather get dysentery on the Oregon Trail than drink this.”
“Stop being difficult,” Dimitri said, forcing the cup into his hand before draping an arm around Arlo’s slight shoulders and gathering him close. He tugged his phone free, pulling up the camera app and putting it in selfie mode. “Kiss my cheek.”
Arlo timidly rose on tip-toe to do as he asked. Dimitri turned at the last minute, snapping the picture just as their lips touched, then another as he pulled away. He grinned as he looked at the pictures. They both looked happy, gazing at each other like they were each other’s whole worlds.
Arlo was his fucking world. Always had been. Arlo seemed to feel the same way. Part of Dimitri was mad at himself for not shooting his shot four years ago, before men had trampled all over Arlo’s heart…and his body. He could have saved Arlo so much pain. Nobody would ever put a hand on Arlo ever again, not without losing a limb for their efforts.
But, for now, it was about establishing a paper trail to keep them from a murder rap. Dimitri loaded the pictures he’d just taken to Instagram, adding a bunch of bullshit hashtags.#collegelife #fratwars #beerpong #sigmachiordie #boyfriends #couple #partnerincrime
Arlo snorted as he peered over Dimitri’s arm. “Partner in crime? What? #BonnieandClyde was too on the nose?”
Dimitri grinned. “Hey, we want people to take notice. Besides, who would hashtag something like that if they really did just commit a crime?”
“Other than you?” Arlo countered.
“Yeah, other than me,” Dimitri teased, taking the used cup from Arlo and setting it aside. “Come on, let’s go inside and get this over with.”
Arlo grimaced. “I don’t want to go in there, but I can’t feel my fingers.”
Dimitri steered him towards the back door and then wrapped his arms around him from behind, threading their fingers together as he buried his face against his neck. Arlo sagged against him. He trusted Dimitri to take care of him. That shouldn’t make his dick hard, but it did. Arlo was his. Just his. And he’d protect him with violence if necessary.
Arlo tilted his head to let Dimitri nuzzle his neck. “This is nice and all, but how are we going to get from here to there if you’re holding me hostage?”
The door opened in front of them as a group of half dressed partiers staggered out into the cold, the alcohol clearly numbing them to the air, which was so icy they could see their breath. “Like this.”
Arlo shriek laughed as Dimitri picked him up from behind, carrying him through the doorway as one of the drunken girls said, “Aww.”
Inside, the living room was a crush of people, some gathered into a large great room, dancing, some crowded into the kitchen around a keg, and others playing beer pong in the dining room.
People knowing they were there wouldn’t be a problem. It was like watching people do the wave at a football game, only this time the wave was a hundred drunk college students noticing Dimitri had arrived at the party and that he had a boy in his arms.
“You know that part of the movie where there’s, like, a record scratch and then everybody stops and stares?” Arlo asked softly. “We’re living that part. I hate that part.”
Dimitri held him tighter. “They’re just surprised to see me here with somebody. I told you. I’ve never brought a date before. That’s all it is. I promise.”
Arlo scoffed, attempting to crane his head over his shoulder to look at Dimitri. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Dimitri snorted. “I’m an excellent liar. Trust me. This is the best thing that could happen to us.” He released his hold on him but took Arlo’s hand, weaving through a crowd that parted like the Red Sea but then quickly forgot them.
