“No more so than those crazy old fucks that enjoy jumping into frozen lakes.”
Ralph squeezed him, and beyond the temporary frostiness of his outer flesh, he quickly reacquainted himself with Bo’s warm and utterly snuggly presence. It was all he could do to keep his hands stomach-level.
“We have beer, champagne, and tequila,” Bo said. “I know the champagne was to celebrate Tenleytown, but would you be offended if I chose beer?”
“Not at all, but I want one too.”
Bo opened two Sam Adams, passing one to Ralph. He grabbed an egg roll from the second bag of Chinese and leaned against the counter, chomping on the crispy wrapped cabbage and chasing it with beer.
“You know,” Ralph said. “Anyone else, and I’d be mildly repulsed. But watching you in your skivvies, practically inhaling food and booze, is a solid turn-on for me.”
“Keep that tequila out and I’ll show you what else I can do.”
“I’ll bear that in mind. But back to what you were saying, Bo. Did you just break up today?”
Bo put his beer down, sucked on each of his fingers to clean them, and then used a napkin to finish wiping down. “Yeah. Dale decided—on his own, mind you—that our relationship needed some spark. So, he decided to invite someone else in.”
“And he told you this morning?”
“Yeah. He wanted me to meet the guy tonight. But it became clear fast that he and Chip had already been fooling around, behind my back.”
“Chip?” Ralph chuckled. “For real? His name is Chip?”
“Yeah... I know. You can’t make this shit up.”
“I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t be laughing.”
“It’s all good, Ralph. I laughed at you too, remember. When you were losing it on the side of the road in Burtonsville about—what... an hour ago?”
Ralph nodded. “OK. We’re even.”
“Look. I’m sated... for the moment, but these counters are hard. Why don’t you put this stuff in the fridge and grab us a couple more beers? I’m going tend to the fire and we can sit in there. At least the mattress has some give.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
It was a neutral, automated answer on Ralph’s part, considering that Bo was technically inviting him to bed.
“Good. Maybe then you’ll feel more like telling me about your so-called mid-life crisis.”
10
Bo flipped the overhead light off and tossed another log on the fire. Ralph was already sitting on the mattress behind him. When Bo turned, his crotch was eye-level, the slit of his boxer’s fly slightly puckered and open, revealing a tempting peek of the darkness within.
“You can’t stand there,” Ralph said.
“Why not, boss?”
“Because it’s too distracting. And don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you?”
Ralph reached for Bo’s hand and put a beer in it. “Ralph will do for now. Sit down.”
He did as told, casting Ralph a bit of side-eye. “You know, we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly fine with some more physical activity. And weareon a bed.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Am not. But, you know, Ralph... youhavebeen in my spank-bank for a long time—whoops! Did I just say that out loud?”
