Chace loses it—head tipped back, like he’s been waiting his whole life for Sam to be personally violated.
Logan, meanwhile, calmly stands, scoops the spider into his hands like it’s nothing more than an inconvenience, and walks it over to the shade by the pool house. Into the orange bushes. Done. Dusts his hands off like nothing happened.
“What…what if that was venomous?” I ask, genuinely more shaken by that than our ongoing life-threatening situation.
“Then I would suck it out…and go to the ER. No big deal.”
What the fucking shit.
I wouldsuck it out.
That sentence should come with warning labels.
I don’t even get to properly roast him for it because my brain is too busy spinning out.
“O-okay…cool…” I manage.
A warm breeze moves through the yard, the sun absolutely unbothered.
I stare up at the sky for a second.
“Boys,” I say slowly, thinking too hard.
“Where can a spider or snake bite you…and you have to suck the venom out…before it becomes gay?”
Three sets of eyes slowly turn toward me. “Because think about it,” I continue, warming to my own terrible logic. “Arm? Fine. Manly even. You save your bro, you’re basically a hero.”
I gesture vaguely.
“But what if it’s your balls or shaft?”
Chace is shaking head, laughing. Sam is staring at me. Logan’s mouth twitches.
“Alright, that’s obvious, right? That’s too far. But what about the palm of your hand? That’s like…emotionally intimate.”
“I would suck it out myself,” Sam says instantly, arms folded.
“No, no—” I point at him. “You’re unconscious. You’ve fainted. Bam. Emergency scenario. So where is the line? Where does it become too gay?”
“It’s not gay if it’s saving a life,” Logan says, completely deadpan.
Chace wipes his eyes. “It’s gay if you make an ahegao face while doing it.”
“Logan, I need you to save my life,” I say, turning slowly toward him, “please suck my dick.”
The table erupts.
Sam is fully gone. Chace is folded in half. Even Logan lets out a quiet laugh through his nose.
“Fine,” Logan says after a beat, standing up. “Drop them, pretty boy.”
Wait.
Pretty boy?
He starts walking toward me.
I try to back up—trip—end up half-sprawled on a sun lounger.
