“I mean, I’ve heard of it, but it’s kind of like finding out that your partner is allergic to sperm. It’s something that’s technically possible, but not something you’d think about before having sex with someone.”
Dylan looked relieved. Ryker frowned, wondering if he’d thought they’d gotten him addicted to their sperm on purpose.
“Have you been feeling weird?” August asked, speaking up for the first time. He’d pulled away from Dylan, leaving a space between them where they sat next to each other.
Dylan swallowed, wringing his hands in his lap.
“Maybe?” He glanced down, teeth worrying at his lower lip. “I mean. I’ve been pretty horny these past few days, but I figured that was just because I was missing you guys. This morning was pretty bad, though.”
“Bad how?” Ryker asked.
It took Dylan a while to answer. His face was red, his shoulders hunched with embarrassment.
“I was just really horny, but like in a bad way?” he said, swallowing loudly. He glanced up. “Like I was empty, you know?”
Ryker did not know. The closest he’d ever felt to empty was hungry, but he didn’t think that hunger was the sensation Dylan was describing.
“Empty in a way that you thought a shampoo bottle would fix?” August asked, the question not at all teasing.
Dylan nodded. “I wasn’t really thinking.”
No one said anything for a minute, everyone processing, the silence finally broken by their waitress coming up to their table with a tray stacked full of food.
“Here you go, enjoy, guys,” she said, putting down plates with practiced speed. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, thank you, we’re good,” August said, shooting her a polite smile.
“All right. I’ll be back with refills for your coffee in a bit, but if you need anything before then just holler.”
“Will do,” August said.
When she’d left, Ryker picked up his knife and fork and started eating. Steve and August followed his lead, but Dylan just sat there and stared at his food.
“If I am addicted to your… you know, then what does that mean? How do we fix it?”
“We can’t,” August said, shoving two strips of bacon into his mouth. Ryker glared at him, not appreciating his bluntness.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not an addiction in the medical sense,” August explained. “You can’t go cold turkey or wean yourself off it.”
Judging from the look on his face, Ryker could tell that was not an acceptable answer.
“What happens if I try?”
August hesitated, and so Ryker answered the question.
“You’ll get sick, and if we leave it long enough, you’ll die.”
Dylan stared at him, mouth slack. He gave himself a shake and laughed.
“Okay, that isn’t funny.”
Ryker looked at him, while August and Steve looked down at their food with cowardly avoidance.
“No, it isn’t.” Ryker sighed and brushed his hand through his hair. “And I’m really sorry.”
“Just because this has happened doesn’t mean you have to be with us,” August said.
