“What?” Johnny asks, panicked. “A ghost asked you to poison yourself?”
He nods proudly. “Daddy McSnack. We have a connection. Well, wehada connection, but I guess now we’re going to have an eternal one. We can meet up in the afterlife and see if sparks ignite.”
Johnny shakes his head emphatically. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Whoever you think you saw in that ball, it wasn’t StopFrackingStartSnackingOnDaddy.”
Ezra arches an eyebrow at him. “How would you know?”
Johnny looks away, cheeks burning. “Just a hunch.”
Ezra uncaps the lid. “I’ll need more to go on than a hunch. I mean, he could be my forever Daddy, Johnny. You can’t expect me todiscount my feelings simply because you don’t trust the art of fortune telling.”
“Yeah, well, if your crystal ball is telling you Daddy McSnack is dead, I’d suggest you find new sources.”
“You know nothing about Daddy McSnack,” Ezra says proudly, not looking away from whatever’s inside the ball. “He’s the sweetest, kindest man. He must have a beautiful heart, because he tips me all the time. And that ass. Jesus Christ, that ass. I could eat it for days. I probably would if he wasn’t dead. I’d probably spread those cheeks and slide my tongue as deep as it would go.” Ezra’s got his hand in his lap, palming himself, and I have to resist the urge to remind him that there’s a lady and child present. I know Jaden ain’t a kid anymore, since he’s now a legally responsible adult, but he’ll always be my kid. At my side, Dallas palms Austin’s cock through his shorts too. We’re hardly painting a Norman Rockwell picture with our behavior, and fuck knows what Jaden is going to think about any of this.
Jealous with rage, Johnny grabs the goldfish bowl masquerading as a crystal ball and tells Ezra, “Sorry about this, Little Dick,” before lifting it over his head and slamming it on the floor, sending rocks, water, and way too much goddamn glitter across the hardwood. “You ain’t talking to a spirit, you’re talking to a damn demon. There ain’t no way Daddy McSnack was talking to you.”
“Oh yeah? And how would you know?” Ezra asks, even though the smug tone in his voice tells me he already knows the answer. Johnny’s still lost though, but that’s okay. He’ll get there in the end.
“Because I’m him,” Johnny shouts. “I’m the man you’ve been talking to. That’s my ass getting your little dick hard, Ez. That’s my ass you want to eat.”
“You’re goddamn right, it is,” Ezra says, but Johnny must not have heard him, because he doesn’t react.
“What is a ‘Daddy McSnack?’” Jaden asks the table, but Clint just lifts his hand to the side of his head, twirling it in circles, indicating Ezra has finally lost the last of his ever-loving mind. He’s making coo-coo sounds and everything.
“Don’t ever call him crazy again,” Johnny growls. “You fuckin’ hear me, bro?”
“Well, that was rude, Uncle Johnny.”
“Don’t pay him any attention,” Clint says. “They’re feral for each other.”
“Johnny,” Ezra whispers, so low I barely hear it, so loud it could shatter our hearts with the pure power in his tone.
“There’s something I have to tell you, Ez. Something you’ll hate me for.”
“I won’t,” Ezra assures him, but it must not be much assurance.
“You will. As soon as I tell you, you’ll make Bubba kick me out.” Johnny looks back at him, chewing his cheek. Even though Ezra’s shaking his head, indicating everything Johnny’s assuming is incorrect, Johnny can’t seem to believe it. He’s beating himself up pretty hard right now, and as much as I want to help, I know this is between them. There are going to be fights in the future, and I need my boys to know how to squash their beef without me intervening. Johnny’s quiet for a while, as is the rest of the room, everyone’s eyes flicking back and forth between the pair. After an uncomfortable pause, Johnny’s bottom lip trembles. “It’s me, Ez. I’ve been lying to you. I’m Daddy McSnack.”
Ezra giggles, this small, adorable little sound, like a quirky chipmunk. He gives Johnny a kiss. “Obviously.”
Johnny stares at him, dumbfounded. “You knew?”
“I’ve always had a hunch that there’s something amiss with Daddy McSnack. He clings to my every word. He flashes that fucking ass every chance he gets. The man is clearly enamored with me in a way onlyyou and Bubba have ever been. I’m not terribly likable, but he liked me anyway.”
He presses their foreheads together and lowers his voice. “I’m sorry. Ez, I’m so sorry I lied. Please don’t hate me.”
“Silly boy,” Ezra says, tickling Johnny’s side. “I don’t hate you. Not today, at least.” Their lips meet, and it’s like all tension leaves my Johnny Boy. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Johnny agrees.
God, I love them.
Seeing them this way is enough to make my heart swell in my chest. My boys want this. Just as much as I want them, they want each other. As if my eyes are burning holes in them, they look at me, their goofy, love-drunk eyes aimed in my direction like I’ve done something to deserve it, ignoring every other soul at the table as they extend their arms, inviting me into the fold. No. More than that, they’re not just inviting, they’re insisting. Commanding it, because it’s where I belong, and we all know it. I join my boys, wrapping them up in my arms.
“Good boys,” I praise. “I’m proud of you.”
There’s movement around us, but all I see are my boys. Ezra’s cheek that needs a kiss. Johnny’s lips that belong around my cock. All that's left in the world are our three hearts, welded together, the bond unbreakable.
