Gay.
A couple of weeks ago, it wasn’t a word I’ve ever associated with myself. Now, nothing feels truer.
Faith and Jaden took the news well, thank God. They shared a tearful goodbye this morning. Faith almost went back on her threat of leaving Jay behind with us, but Bubba was strong when Faith needed him to be. He told her we would get Jay sorted out soon, instilling a strong work ethic in him and getting him back on the right track. Faith cried when she drove away, pausing long enough to look out the window and holler that she would be back to visit herbaby boy very soon.
To our horror, Clint rushed out of the house as she was peeling away and running after the car, crying out Faith’s name. She didn’t hear him, but she didn’t need him to, I guess, because the heart wants what it wants, and Clint wanted Bubba’s ex-wife so bad, he caught up with her car on foot, smashed the back window with an old horseshoe he was carrying on his person, and dove through the gap. Faith didn’t even tap the brakes once. Clint is either finding his happily ever after or bleeding out after being gutted like a fish by the broken glass.
I know Bubba says I shouldn’t worry about labels, but now that I know mine, I don’t mind it at all. I actually think I kind of like it. It’s something me and Ez have in common. Bubba and I have enough in common already. We’re both white trash welders without a lick of sense. We know what it means to be rednecks, while Ezra’s more into red bottoms, whatever the hell those are. I know Bubba and Ez have a special bond, but it don’t make me jealous anymore. If anything, it feels healthier this way. I think it’s what surprises me most about being part of a trio. It ain’t just the three-way bond keeping this structure standing, it’s all the other smaller walls acting as load-bearing walls. Me and Ezra. Me and Bubba. Me and both of them, and them with me.
I’ll need to tell my family soon. It’s going to confuse the hell out of them, but I don’t think they’ll outright reject me. I hope they won’t, at least. If I want to come out to them, I’m going to have to make the trip home. Momma ain’t stepped foot outside Dunsberry a day in her life, and my brothers, Barrett and Pete, only ever leave long enough to buy farming supplies in the next town over. They would never just outright hate me, I don’t think. Not like Ezra’s parents.
I’ll never understand how a parent can turn their backs on a child the way Ezra’s daddy and stepmomma turned their backs on him. It don’t make no sense to me. His real mommacarried him for nine months. She loved him like crazy, by the way Ezra tells it. He was her pride and joy, and he knows this because Barbara shows him mental snapshots of his Momma and him all the time. Sometimes, it’ll come out of nowhere, and he’ll start crying like his heart is breaking. She loved him, and that son-of-a-bitchin’ father of his threw him out on the streets. God help him, because I’m going to find him one day. We’ve got a woodchipper out back, and I’ll use it on his ass happily.
He was forced to grow up on his own, occasionally finding rest and comfort by sleeping in his best friend’s closet. Those are the experiences that shape a boy into a man. They stitch themselves into you like patchwork, covering up what might have been with what was never wanted. Those tiny moments in Ezra’s early life were filled with abandonment, fear, and a whole hell of a lot of confusion as to why he wasn’t good enough to be loved the way he loved them. That’s what I assume, anyway.
“You look like you’re ready to swing on someone,” Bubba shouts over the loud sounds of our machine shop, squeezing my shoulder from behind.
“Do you think we could kill Ezra’s daddy without getting caught?”
Bubba blinks at me. “I think I may have to take you over my knee.”
“The fuck you will,” I say, kicking back on my work stool, leaning against the wall. Dallas is on one side of us at his workstation, but Clint’s station is empty. It’s just the three of us for now, and that makes my heart hurt a little, because we’ve always been The Core Four. Now we’re The Leftover Trio. Dallas’ machine is loud, drowning out any chance at a peaceful conversation. I try to respond to Bubba, but I have to yell just to get the words across when I shout, “You ain’t spanking me. I’m not into that.”
“Huh?” he hollers.
“I ain’t into being spanked. At least, I don’t think I am.” My voice is loud, but it ain’t loud enough to be heard over the machines. I repeat myself even louder, shouting “I don’t want that.”
Bubba gives me a stare that makes my knees tremble a little. “Did I ask what you wanted, or did I tell you what you need?” He presses his lips right against my ear, and I flip my torch off. “There are a bunch of different ways I can teach you a lesson.” He rubs his hands up and down my thigh. “Maybe I’ll wrap my lips around your cock.”
“That don’t sound like a punishment, bro.”
“I’ll bob my head up and down, looking up at you while I suck your dick.” His hand caresses my bulge, making me whimper. “I’ll suck you slow, Johnny Boy, the way I know you need me to. I’ll take my time tending to your cock. Make myself at home.” Gusts of his warm breath dance across the side of my head. “Fuck. Johnny, we wasted so much time. I should’ve sucked you the second I spotted you at the Walmart.” He sucks my earlobe, and my cock springs to life. “I’ll get you so fucking close to nutting that you can’t see straight. Tickle your balls. Tease your taint.” He licks my cheek. “Slip my finger into that tight hole. Then, just as you’re about to come, I’ll pull off of your dick.” His hand grips my chin tight enough to startle me, but not enough to hurt. “I’ll ruin that fuckin’ orgasm faster than you can say—”
“Bubba!” I groan, needy and desperate, sounding like a fuckin’ whore for him. My voice reminds me a lot of Ezra when he’s writhing and wriggling around on the sofa, stroking himself for the World Wide Web to see. My mouth hangs open, partially because this ain’t the way we talk to each other. He’s being fuckin’ filthy, and I think I fuckin’ like it. “You really want to suck my dick?”
He snorts a laugh and guides my hand to his hard cock, now straining against his coveralls. “Do you even have to ask?” He grinds against my hand. “Come upstairs with me. We can use my office.”
“Okay.” I nod, but my head goes back to Ezra. Will this hurt him—me doing stuff with Bubba in his absence? He’s such a gentle guy with a fragile heart, and the last thing I want to do is break it. “But I’m calling Little Dick first, and I’m running it by him. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s got a tender heart.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Ezra?Ezra Edwardshas a tender heart? The same Ezra who threatened to chemically castrate you with bleach and ketchup?”
“Yep. That’s the one.” I pull up my contact list and scroll once until his name pops up. He answers within seconds. He’s staring down at his nails, not paying me a bit of attention. “Ez?”
Ezra looks up from his nails, now a frisky shade of red, and cocks an eyebrow. His pink hair is sexy as fuck, and I want to run my fingers through it again like I did last night. “You’re lucky the sudden sound of your voice didn’t startle me.” He lifts his hand and flips me off, his pretty, red nail aimed right at me. “I could have smudged the polish, you backwoods bastard.” To my surprise, his cheeks turn the same shade of his nails as he holds a hand in front of him and twinkles his fingers, showcasing his nail polish skills. “Do you like the color?”
I think I love it. It suits him, all big and bright and full of life. “You’re pretty as a fuckin’ princess,” I tell him, because he is.
“A queen,” he corrects me, but I just shake my head.
“No, Little Dick—”
“Dammit, Jonathan,” he says with a sigh. I love how much he objects to the nickname. Sucks for him. I also love how he crosses his legs to conceal his stiffening cock. “How many times must I scold you?”
“You ain’t a queen,” I continue. “You’re our pretty princess. That’s what Bubba called you last night when we were cuddling.”
“I called him a pillow princess, because I’m pretty sure he will be once we all start fucking each other in the ass,” Bubba says, making Ezra’s whole body shake, and he whimpers. Actually fuckin’ whimpers. I angle my phone so Bubba is in the shot too. “Look at him, Bubba.”
“You look fuckin’ beautiful, Ezzy,” Bubba agrees.
