I can’t help myself and lean my head on my victor’s shoulder as I eye my newly outed cousin stand there with a fading black eye, and both hands on his hips. I don’t know what to expect. He’s never introduced me to anyone, regardless of gender, and I’m not stupid enough to believe any stereotypes would apply to a guy like him.
I’m almost disappointed when instead of answering a question he takes a long drink and eyes Dalton. “So, what’s the dare?”
Aspen whistles, all red-faced. “Oh, fuck! That freaky?”
Okay, he’s a little idiot, but I’ve drunk enough tonight to laugh.
Dalton opens his mouth but Killian is the first to speak. “Strip and dance for us!”
This time even Aspen makes a face. “He’s my cousin, man!”
Killian shrugs. “Well, he’s not mine.”
Dalton snorts. “Sorry, boss, I wanna see that.”
Strangely, I’m not even jealous. It just seems like a way to poke fun at Remo, who might be regretting his choices. Still, once a more sensuous ballad comes on, he gives up on trying to wait it out and stirs his hips.
It’s weird to see him do it. Still, by the time Remo’s shirt is off, and he pulls out his belt, I’m almost ready to call quits on the performance. But he seems to have gotten into it and produces a metal baseball bat he must have had propped against the back of the booth. He straddles it, rocking his hips to the rhythm. As the guys roar in laughter, even I let out a chuckle.
“This makes me remember that time we went to Ithaca together, and the guy noticed I wanted to inject him,” I say, staring at the bat.
Remo stops dancing and puts the bat across his wide shoulders. Only now I notice he… has his nipples pierced. It feels inappropriate to even look at them.
“Ah, good old days,” he says. “Can’t say I’m mad about having to step in. My first kill. Maybe that’s when I developed a fondness for the bat? Messy, but fun and efficient. Provides that fear factor for onlookers as well.”
Oh yeah, he’d smashed that guy’s head to a pulp when the bastard attacked me. “Was that the day you found your calling?”
“All thanks to you, cousin.”
We play a bit more. I’m not good at throwing projectiles, but I manage to hit the big bullseye, and the game moves on to Aspen, who fails miserably, likely too drunk to hit anything anyway.
Remo speaks up almost immediately, as if he’s been waiting for that opportunity. “You said you’re an ally. Does that mean you like your gay hairdresser, or that you experimented with men?”
Aspen’s mouth opens like he’s a fish out of water, but then the stupid grin is back. “I’ve been busy with the ladies so far, but who knows what’s gonna happen tonight!” He grabs the baseball bat, but Remo has the other side and won’t let go.
“Don’t you dare!”
Aspen pulls on it harder and my cheeks flush when I realize what he’s doing. “This how you do it, Remo?” he laughs so hard he gets winded, and Remo lets go of the bat as if it’s burned him.
Dalton has tears in his eyes. “Just don’t get some poor boy pregnant.”
Aspen loses balance, but he still closes his thighs around the bat and moves his hips as if he were swinging a gigantic cock. Because of course he does.
My fingers slip between Dalton’s as I watch him with growing fondness. My head’s spinning a bit from all the booze I’ve already had, but I’m not sorry we’re here, because seeing him relax around my cousins makes my heart all fluttery and warm.
Remo ends up chasing Aspen around the bar to get the bat back, and I realize I’ve not had this much fun with my cousins in years. We used to be so much closer before my father’s death, and then being in the closet blocked me from more meaningful interactions. Only now I realize how guarded I’ve always been around my family.
Aspen ends up having to get Remo French fries from a place across the street as his penance, and by the time the next round comes along, I’m so relaxed I lean against Dalton as if it’s second nature. He’s so warm, so handsome, smells so good. I’m sad to let him go, but it’s his turn to throw a dart.
This time his aim is a little bit off and lands on a white, but taking into account how drunk he is, I’m still impressed.
I want to help and ask something innocent that he can answer without embarrassment, but Damen beats me to it, his hand clasped over Killian’s mouth.
“So… which one of you proposed. I want a story!”
The other guys roar and hit the nearest surface with their fists. I finish my glass of whisky as the world softens around me a little. Fuck. We should have come up with a story, but we’ve been too busy with each other’s company, and it’s too late now. We had the how-we-met down, since Mom spread the florist story like flu at a college, but this?
I expect Dalton to take a dare and avoid lying, but he leans back, eying me with a smirk. “I did. I knew he was the one I want for life.” He squeezes my hand, making my heart skip a beat. “I have a friend who worked night security at the MET when the Goya exhibition was on. I pretended I booked a viewing, but really set up a little dining experience for the two of us next to the painting ofSaturn Devouring His Son. You know which one? Where he’s like really munching on him, blood and gore. And I told Corvus that’s how much I want him.”
