“You could. But if you lay a fuckin’ finger on me, I’ll lay your ass out.”
“Excuse me?”
“What part has you confused?” I ask, shrugging, feigning ignorance. “Talk shit, get hit. It’s a pretty simple concept.”
His jaw drops. “You can’t threaten to hit me.”
“I just fuckin’ did, bro. You threatened to slap me.”
“I was joking, mammoth man. And even if I did slap you across the face, I wouldn’t leave a mark on you. You’re a wall of solid steel. You can’t hit me. You could really hurt me, Johnny.”
Little Dick has a point. He would also follow through with his threat if he knew I regularly call him Little Dick in my head, but I ain’t going to lie to save his feelings. Bubba’s Little Man has a little dick. It ain’t a bad thing, it just is what it is. I’ve seen it enough times to know how big it is. He strokes it every day on OnlyFans. God help me if he ever finds out my secret online identity.
StopFrackingStartSnackingOnDaddy.
It was a quote from that Drew Barrymore show on Netflix Bubba and I used to watch,Santa BarbaraBastardsor some shit, and I thought it sounded funny, even though Bubba told me if people stopped fracking, we’d be out of a job, but I’ve been poor before, and I’ll probably be poor again, so it doesn’t bother me too much. Ezra didn’t even know what the hell fracking was when I signed up, and he went around the house asking about the ins and outs. He tried asking me directly in the chat first, but I never responded. I rarely speak up in the group chat, even when he offers psychic readings to all his fans during his streaming sessions. Instead, I watch him perform, staring at him as he strokes his cock, hoping he’ll say something damning enough to be his death blow. Sometimes he’ll even turn around and show off that tight ass of his.
I’ll give him credit; Ezra never shows the money maker. I’ve combed through hours and hours of footage, and not once has he bent over, allowing his cheeks to part like the ocean. There ain’t no hair on his cheeks, and it makes me wonder if his valley is as smooth as the surface. Annie kept her pussy shaved. She used to like the way I would rest my hand there while we slept, because she said it felt cool, but that was probably just the lotion I use. I wonder if Ezra’s ever had anyone spread lotion on his—
“Earth to Johnny,” Ezra says, snapping his fingers in front of my face over and over.
“Huh?” I shake my head, because I must’ve gotten lost in my head for a minute.
“I said, I’m sorry for calling you stupid, but I do not—and will not—forgive you for threatening to ram your fist into me repeatedly. It’s rude, Johnny. It’s tacky and it’s rude.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not what your mom said last night.” Ah, hell. I know I’ve fucked up the second the words leave my mouth. He gasps, taking a step back, looking genuinely hurt. Fuck! “Ez. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
He shakes his head, looking out at the water, probably so I won’t see his face. Dammit. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I really am stupid, because anyone with a lick of sense would know Ezra’s parents are a sore subject. He don’t talk about them to me, but late at night, while I lie on the other side of Bubba, trying to fall asleep, Ezra talks about them to him. Some of the stories he tells are hard to hear, but I listen anyway, because I don’t have a choice. The poor guy lost his momma when he was real little, and then his hellhound stepmother and demon of a father did what they did, a couple of years later. What kind of parents kick a kid out at thirteen?
I didn’t even know being gay was a thing until I moved here from Arkansas. When I learned what being gay meant, I also learned what it could cost. The thought that anyone would disown their flesh and blood over something as silly as who they love doesn’t make sense to me. Bubba likes to say my family is hillbilly amish, because we didn’t have any contact with the outside world, except for the letters Momma and Aunt Dot used to send. My momma and my daddy might have been simple, but Ezra’s daddy and stepmomma are monsters. I lucked out in that regard. Ez didn’t.
“I’m sorry. Really,” I say.
He nods. “I know. I guess that makes us even.” He bites his bottom lip, looking lost in contemplation. “No. It doesn’t.”
I thought that seemed too easy. I guess he wants me to grovel. I open my mouth to speak, but he holds his hand up, motioning for me to give him a second.
“What I mean is, you were just joking around. I intentionally hurt you. I knew I fucked up when I said it. I knew it would hurt you, and I said it anyway. I know I'm a lot to deal with, and I'm an asshole sometimes.” He moves a little closer to me. “I'm sorry for hurting you,Johnny. I really am.” To my shock and horror, Ezra maneuvers himself onto my lap.
Jesus Christ, his ass is on my thigh. His ass, clad in the smallest speedo I’ve ever seen, is pressed right against my bare leg, thanks to the way my shorts are riding up.
Why does he feel so fuckin’ soft?
“Ez?”
He’s nibbling on his bottom lip, making it this really pretty shade of dark pink when he finally lets it plop back out. “I want to prove it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way Austin and I prove we’re best friends forever.”
“We ain’t best friends forever,” I say. What does he mean by proving it?
“Not yet, but we both love Bubba in our own way, and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Do you?”
I shake my head. “I already told you, you ain’t getting rid of me. We’ve talked about it a whole bunch of times.”
He nods. “That’s my point. If we can’t get rid of each other, I don’t want us to hate each other anymore. It sucks, Johnny. I feel like I’m constantly at war with you, and I’m tired of the battle.” He raises his hands like he's surrendering or something. “I give in.” And it almost feels like I know what he's surrendering to. This unbreakable, unrequested bond. I feel it. The way it's tugging us toward the inevitable. Leading us toward the man we love, knowing each step taken in Bubba’s direction is a step closer to each other too. He takes a long, deep breath like he’s building himself up for something big. “When I was little, Austin was my only friend. We were inseparable. His mom realized we were both gay really early, so she tried to keep us apart. I guess she thought we would wind up fucking, but we aren’t into each other that way. We’re like brothers. After my parents kicked me out,he would sneak me into his room whenever she was out on one of her drug sprees, and we’d cuddle in his closet, so if she showed up it would be easy and quick to hide me. We spent a lot of time there, cuddled up close, talking about pretty boys. That’s when my attachment stuff started. One day, I got hard while he held me, telling me everything was going to be okay, but it didn’t feel sexual in nature. He just stared down at my cock and smiled like it was the most normal thing in the world. He told me I could take care of it if I needed.”
