by T. J. Klune
“Oh, you.” I laughed and tilted my head down in an approximation of embarrassment. I knew my face was slightly red, but rather than from shyness, it was from pure, unadulterated rage.
“Wow,” Paul said. “I may have overestimated my desire to see you two together. This is actually making me slightly nauseous. It’s like having sugar and crack mainlined right into my veins. Gross.”
“No worse than you and Vince,” Corey said. “Sometimes, you two will sit there and whisper quietly to each other and have these goofy little looks on your faces. It’s positively vomitus. I’m glad I’ve so far been able to avoid the trappings of domestic bliss. It looks disgusting.”
“We’re not really domestic,” I said. “We’ve only been together a few days, so we can’t be domestic.”
“Yet,” Darren said, bringing my hand up and kissing the back of it. “But, boo, if I have my way, we’ll be beating Vince and Paul’s time it took to move in together.”
“It took them two months,” I said, trying not to grit my teeth.
“I know.” Darren grinned at me from behind my hand. “I’m counting down the days.”
“I don’t know, bae,” I said. “I have a lot of stuff. I don’t know if you’d even have the room for it.”
“We can just buy a bigger house,” he said with a shrug. “You know, for your stuff. And the kids.”
I literally had to clench to keep from shitting myself right then and there. “The what now?”
I was saved from hearing his answer when what had to be the world’s most handsome waiter arrived at our table. He wore a red collared shirt and tight black slacks that contrasted perfectly with his mocha skin. His hair was tousled in such a way that looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed, but had obviously been done on purpose. He had what I thought were possibly the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. He was, in a word, perfect.
And probably just Darren’s type.
In fact, Darren paled slightly when he saw the waiter, his hand squeezing mine. I was slightly grossed out that he was probably getting a boner while holding my hand and watching Sexy McSlut Whore. I wasn’t jealous. Not even a little bit. Because jealousy would imply feelings beyond indifferent anger. And there were none.
The waiter ignored Darren, Corey, and me and immediately zeroed in on Paul and Vince. “Oh look,” he said with a thick accent. “It’s the father accountant. Back yet again. Are you hungry, big man father accountant? I shall bring you your own bread basket. You look like you’ve earned it. Can’t let all those carbs go to waste.”
“Santiago,” Paul hissed. “I was told you quit.”
“I did,” Santiago said. “And then I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Paul muttered, but Santiago ignored him, focusing on Vince. “You’re not mysterious.”
“I am so mysterious.”
“For fuck’s sake, you just—”
“Hello, Vincent,” Santiago said, cocking his hip and oozing sex. “How lovely it is to see you again. I see your biceps are just as exponential as always. Tell me, what are your thoughts about using them to pin a smaller man to a bed? Good, I hope.”
“Hi, Santiago,” Vince said. “We’re going to need a while before we order.”
“Is that so?” he asked, eyes going big. “Maybe I should just stay here with you to see if you have any questions on the menu. Today’s special is garlic beef enchiladas wrapped in freshly prepared corn tortillas topped with a garden pico de gallo. Also, I get off at ten tonight if you’d also like to get off. At ten. Tonight.”
“We’re engaged,” Paul growled.
Santiago grimaced. “That’s disappointing. Such a waste. How wonderful for the both of you. Make sure you sign a prenup, Vincent. You don’t want your accountant to swindle you.”
Vince shrugged. “I don’t even know what that is. I just want to be married to Paul. I’ll sign anything he wants as long as we get married.”
“Ow,” Corey moaned. “That hit me right in my feelings, oh my god.”
“Indeed,” Santiago said. “Well, I guess I can come and be the pool boy. You’ll need one. I have this little Speedo thing that I’m told I look just adorable in that barely covers anything. Maybe I could show you sometime?”
“I will throw acid on you,” Paul said. “Like, on your whole face and everything.”
“So violent.” Santiago frowned. “Are you sure you’re safe with him, Vincent? I’d hate to think that you’re being abused.”
“The only time Paul hits me is when he spanks my ass after I’ve been a bad boy,” Vince said easily. “But that usually leads to sex face, so I’m good with it.”
“Ew,” Darren and I both said at the same time.
“Gross,” Corey said, staring at Darren and me. “They’re already saying the same things at the same time. You guys are going to be disgusting together.”
“You spank him?” I asked Paul, trying to reconcile Dom Paul with the Paul I saw in front of me.
Paul shrugged. “Only when he asks for it.”
“I ask for it all the time,” Vince whispered loudly.
“Drink orders,” Santiago said. “Before this turns into an orgy where everyone but Vincent leaves.”
“That’s not an orgy. That’s a—”
“Vincent? What would you like to drink?”
“I’ll have a mango margarita, salt on the rim.”
“One mango margarita for mi corazón. Father accountant? We don’t make drinks out of bread and butter. I suppose I could bring you a gravy boat if you’d like.”
“You bitch. I’ll have the same as Vincent.”
“One Diet Coke, hold the ice, you got it, good life choice. Should I point out the heart-healthy items on the menu? You look like you have a high sodium intake.”
“Santiago,” Vince said. “You sure you can still be a waiter? You messed up the drink order last time too. And made mine really, really strong.”
“That’s because he wants to date rape your face, dear,” Paul said.
“This much is true,” Santiago said with no shame whatsoever.
“We can share mine,” Vince said, leaning in to kiss Paul sweetly.
“Gross,” Santiago said. “I mean, aw. That’s so… right in front of me.” He turned and eyed Corey up and down but refrained from comment. Corey looked a little disappointed that Santiago wouldn’t be passing judgment on him and ordered an iced tea. He got to me and pretty much ignored me, offering a grunt when I asked for a vodka Sprite. I wasn’t too put out, because I was already plotting how to have him taken out for talking shit to Paul. Only I could talk shit to Paul. No one else.
And it wasn’t until he got to Darren that he showed any interest again. In fact, he probably showed too much interest, widening his eyes, sucking in his bottom lip, almost making me forget what a dickhole he was with how adorable he looked. It was a dissonance I wasn’t prepared for and I almost cooed at him, Helena wanting to wrap up the little gay and make sure he was safe from the world.
And then the adorable look faded and was replaced by pure teenage sex, much more than he’d ever showed Vince.
Darren squeezed my hand tightly.
Santiago said, “Darren, it’s so nice to see you again. It’s been… what? Three months, seventeen days and seven hours?”
“Oh god.” I rolled my eyes. “You fucked the waiter too? Jesus Christ, Darren. Who haven’t you fucked? What is he, in ninth grade?”
“I’m nineteen,” Santiago said, eyes flicking over to me dismissively. “Legal in everything that counts.”
“This is amazing,” Corey whispered.
“You said you’d call,” Santiago said to Darren as he pouted. “But you didn’t. I waited and waited and waited.”
“You didn’t even call?” I asked Darren. “That’s so mean of you. I mean, his mom probably pays for his phone and everything. It’s a shame to let those minutes go to waste. They probably don’t even roll over at all. You’re ruining his family plan.”
/> “Santiago,” Darren ground out. “Maybe now is not the best time.”
“No,” I said. “Now is the perfect time, Santiago. What day care did he pick you up from?”
Darren glared at me. “We’re on a date, boo.”
I glared right back. “I’m aware, bae.”
“A date?” Santiago said. “You told me you didn’t date because it was easier to fuck someone than like them.”
“Wow.” I choked out a laugh. “That’s so deep. Good job, Dare. Seriously. I’m so proud of you. I’m having such a wonderful time. You sure know how to make a boy feel special.”
“What can I say?” Darren muttered to Santiago. “He’s different. He brings out the best in me.”
“Aw, muffin,” I singsonged. “For true?”
“Huh.” Santiago eyed me speculatively. “I guess we all have our fetishes.”
“Fetishes?” I repeated, slightly outraged. “What exactly about me is a fetish?”
“Any appetizers?” Santiago asked. “No? Good. I’ll go put in your drink order and have those out to you shortly. Darren, don’t worry about yours. I remember what you like.” And with that, he spun away in a cloud of Axe Body Spray and teenage self-confidence, disappearing back inside the restaurant.
“This must be so awkward for you,” I said to Darren, barely restraining my glee. “I mean, I know I’d feel awkward if this were me. But it’s not me. It’s you. All you. Ergo, awkward.”
“It’s not awkward at all,” Darren said, though he was slightly red. “I happen to have a very healthy sex life filled with multiple consenting partners. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
“Whore,” I coughed. “Slut.”
“Had,” Paul said.
We both looked at him. “What?” Darren asked.
“You had a very healthy sex life with multiple consenting partners,” Paul said. “Past tense. Because you only have one partner now. Right?” The last word came out razor sharp with a hint of teeth. God, I loved that man.
“Right,” I said, eyes wide. “Totally right.”
“Exactly,” Darren agreed. “My one and only.”
I grimaced and tried to save it by smiling, but I didn’t know how well it worked. “That’s so sweet, bae. Makes me feel tingles all over.” I reached over and took his hand again, because Paul was getting a constipated look on his face.
“Anything for you,” he said, tossing me a careless smile. He raised my hand and kissed my fingers, his lips lingering.
“Good,” Paul said. “Because if I ever found out otherwise, I’d cut off your dick and then bury you alive in cement.”
“That’s… unsurprisingly specific,” Darren said.
“So,” I said, hoping to redirect the attention away from us and Paul’s murderous dick-severing. “Have you two thought about a location for the wedding?”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Vince wants to have it at a horse farm.”
“A horse what?” Corey asked. Such a city boy.
“It’s this place outside of Tucson,” Vince said, flicking Paul upside the head. “They do weddings.”
“With horses,” Paul said. “His argument being that they allow you to ride the horses for the wedding photos. Because that’s what the world needs, pictures of me and my new husband straddling the back of a horse.”
“I think you’d look sexy straddling a horse.”
“Can we just stop saying straddling,” I said. “That’s a good place to start. Second, Vince, look at us. Really look at us. What about this group of people suggests that we’re animal people?”
“Wheels,” Vince said.
I rolled my eyes. “That two-legged beast isn’t an animal. He’s a devil disguised as a pooping machine that likes to shit on my nice and expensive things.”
“The horse farm is better than Paul’s idea,” Vince said.
“I don’t doubt you there,” I said. Paul had the audacity to look offended. “Hit me with it.”
“Okay,” Paul said, sitting up. “Imagine a place where all your dreams can come true. There’s something for everyone and laughter reigns supreme. Where joy is just a putt away. Where you can run free, chasing others with brightly strapped vests and shooting them with lasers. Where there stand large mechanical boxes that bring nostalgic memories with such legends emblazoned upon them like Street Fighter II or Cruisin’ U.S.A.”
“No,” I said. “Absolutely not. We are not having your wedding at Golf ’n Stuff. I don’t care if you want to play miniature golf, laser tag, or arcade games. We are not having the happiest day of your life at a dilapidated theme park that should have been closed years ago.”
“But they have paddleboats,” Paul said.
“That should never be a valid argument at any time in your life,” I snapped.
“When Sandy and I get married,” Darren said, “we’re going to have horses and paddleboats. Maybe horses in paddleboats.”
I fell out of my chair.
They all stared down at me.
“Sorry, sorry.” I picked myself up off the ground. “I thought I saw a penny and I needed to have it.”
“A penny,” Paul repeated.
“You okay, boo?” Darren asked me, struggling to hide his smile. “That looked like it hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I ground out. “It happens when I get hit with a blast of what-the-fuck.”
“Oh good. You had me worried. Can I see the penny you found?”
“Bae.”
“Hmm?” he said, brushing off my pant legs.
“Remember what we talked about regarding your sense of humor.”
He smiled warmly at me before turning back to the others. “Sandy thinks I’m hilarious. I make him laugh all the time. You know that braying hyena laugh he has when he finds something really funny? He does that with me. Daily.”
“I do not have a braying hyena laugh!”
“You kind of do,” Paul said. “Vince, take his fork before he stabs me with it.”
Ever the dutiful fiancé, Vince stole my fork.
“And we are not having horses and paddleboats for our wedding!” I snapped at Darren. “The fact that you would even suggest a thing obviously means you can’t be left in charge of anything. God, is it so much to ask to get married to someone who understands? Good husbands are so hard to find these days.” And then it hit me what I’d just said and I blanched horribly, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
“You’re getting married?” Paul yelped. “You better not do it before me, I swear to god! You are not going to steal my gay wedding rainbow thunder!”
“Steal your what—”
“What the hell?” Corey said, sitting forward. “You just started dating!”
“Way to go, bro,” Vince said, holding out his fist. Darren gave him the appropriate bump back, looking smug. “Lock that shit down.”
“We’re not getting married!” I said, wondering how I’d so quickly lost control of this conversation. “There is no fist-bumping because we’re not getting married. You take that fist bump back.”
“Can’t,” Darren said. “Fist bump already happened. Now we have to get married. It’s the law. I’m locking that shit down.”
“What’s the law?” Santiago asked, appearing out of nowhere like some twinkie demon spawn from the pits of gay hell. He held the drink tray with one arm, posing right near Darren as if my pseudo-boyfriend (fiancé?!) would take him right then and there. For all I knew, he had before. “If it’s that I can touch my toes without bending my knees, then yes. That should be law. Because I can. I can also do this one thing with my tongue where I stick it in—”
“They’re getting married,” Corey said, sounding particularly bitchy. “So maybe take your skank ass somewhere else. Like to the docks. Because you’d work there. As a dock whore.”
“Boom,” Paul said.
Santiago ignored both of them as he set down the tray on an empty table next to us. “Okay, who had the margarita? Just kidding,
I know it was you, Vincent. Like I could forget anything you ask me for.” He picked up the margarita and bent over the table, sticking his ass right in Darren’s face. “Oops,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “Excuse me.”
“You know when you told me about him and I really didn’t believe you?” I asked Paul. “Yeah, you were totally right.”
“It’s like he has no self-awareness,” Paul said. “It’d be admirable if it wasn’t so trashy.”
“And I brought your father’s hot tea,” Santiago said.
“I ordered a margarita that you turned into a Diet Coke,” Paul said.
“Yes,” Santiago said slowly and loudly. “I made this for you. You’re welcome.”
Paul sighed.
“Iced tea for the lonely,” Santiago said, handing Corey a glass.
“How is he a real person?” Corey asked, sounding awed. “Better yet, how does he have a job still?”
“I suck off the owner two times a week,” Santiago said. “Does wonders for my job security. I could suck the filament out of a lightbulb without breaking the glass.”
“Ah, the entrepreneurs of the future,” Paul said. “The world will be in good hands. And people say our generation doesn’t do anything.”
“A vodka Sprite for the fetishized,” he said, handing me my drink.
“I really want to question your taste about everything now,” I said to Darren. “I don’t know if you should be able to make any choices seeing as how he was one of them. No, we should leave all of the decision making up to me from here on out.”
“He said he could do the splits,” Darren grumbled.
“I can do the splits,” I reminded him. “I do them in my show all the time.”
“Oh really?” he said, leaning forward, that devilish smile playing on his lips. “Maybe you can show me that sometime.”
“It’s like it never ends,” Paul muttered.
“And for Darren, Absolut on the rocks,” Santiago said, placing the glass in front of my fake boyfriend. He let his fingers rest along the rim of the glass, rubbing it in a slow circle. I had to hand it to the kid; he was nothing if not awesomely persistent. And now, for some reason, he was persistently just standing there, fingering Darren’s drink. I would adore him if I didn’t hate him so much. It was quite the quandary.