Until You

By TJ Klune

Sequel to The Queen & the Homo Jock King

Together with their families and friends,

Paul Auster

and

Vincent Taylor

request the honor of your company at the celebration of their marriage.

Table of Contents

Blurb

Dedication

Wedding Invitation

Prologue: That Time I Married RoboCop

Chapter One: Self-Doubts Can Be Cured by Blowjobs at Work

Chapter Two: Daddy’s Got Some News

Chapter Three: German Peanut Farmers Are All About the Nuts

Chapter Four: The Great American Bro-Off

Chapter Five: The Bachelor Party

Chapter Six: The Heart of the Homo Jock King

Chapter Seven: Until You

Epilogue: Robert and Jeremy

More from TJ Klune

About the Author

By TJ Klune

Visit Dreamspinner Press

Copyright

To all the Pauls and Vinces of the world, I say this:

Dudes, you keep rocking that shit.

This one is for you.

Prologue: That Time I Married RoboCop

1991

“MOM,” I said. “I need help. My wedding is today and I don’t have a thing to wear.”

My mother, Matty Auster, looked up from where she was styling her bangs in the bathroom she and my father shared. I tried not to flinch away at the sight of her, given that her hair was undoubtedly the biggest thing I’d ever seen. She set down the hairbrush and the can of Super Hold Unscented Aqua Net, adjusted the shoulder pads of her dress that made her look like she’d just walked off the set of Dynasty, and then turned toward me. “Run that one by me again?”

“My wedding,” I said, speaking slowly, knowing then even as a seven-year-old that sometimes, adults were stupid, “is today. And I don’t have anything to wear.”

She nodded solemnly. “This is a terrible thing that will be remedied immediately. Though, I must admit to being a little surprised at hearing you’re getting married. I didn’t even know you were engaged.”

I rolled my eyes and played with the stretchy waistband of my parachute pants. “It’s a new thing. Please don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Her lips quirked, like she was trying not to laugh. “All right. Since you asked, I won’t make a big deal out of my only son finally getting married. Now, what’s wrong with what you have on?”

I looked down. In addition to my orange-and-green parachute pants, I wore my black-and-white BKs and a KISS T-shirt. I didn’t quite understand what KISS was exactly, but Dad said that Gene Simmons was a god, so I tried not to question it. It probably helped that Mom thought Mr. Simmons was also a god, but that had to do with his tongue more than anything else. That led to Mom and Dad whispering and giggling to each other like they sometimes did, while I stared at the both of them, trying not to be grossed out by my parents, but also feeling a little warm and fuzzy at the sight of them.

I looked back up at Mom. “It’s not wedding clothes.”

“Oh. And what are wedding clothes?”

“You know. Like… big hats. And veils.” I actually knew what a wedding was supposed to look like, having seen photos of Princess Diana’s wedding in one of Mom’s magazines, but didn’t want to have to put my parents out too much. I didn’t think asking for a horse-drawn carriage was something they’d go for.

“Big hats and veils,” she said, taking me by the hand and leading me toward the closet in the bedroom. “I see. Well, at least we have a place to start. Who are you marrying?”

“RoboCop,” I said promptly.

She started coughing. “RoboCop. The speak-and-play doll Nana got you?”

“He’s not a doll,” I said, sounding outraged in that way that only children can sound. “He’s an action figure. Who quotes the movie.”

“Right,” she said. “The action figure. You’re marrying your action figure.”

“Yes.”

She frowned as she opened the closet door. “I don’t know how your father is going to feel about this. We haven’t even met RoboCop yet. I think we should get to meet your future husband before you get married, don’t you think?”

“Mom,” I said, slumping against the wall, feeling the weight of the world on my chunky little shoulders. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said. “But you could have at least invited him to dinner.”

I mumbled as I scuffed my foot against the carpet.

“What was that?”

“I said that I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”

“Really. You didn’t want to make a big deal about something. Oh child. My perfect, special little boy.” She started sifting through the clothes in the closet. “Well, maybe I’ll let this one slide if you answer some questions.”

“Fine,” I groaned.

“Why do you want to get married?”

I shrugged. “Because it looks like fun.”

“And did you ask RoboCop or did RoboCop ask you?”

“I asked him.”

“Because you love him?”

Well, yes. He was my favorite toy. “Yes.”

She handed me a floppy sunhat, white with a large yellow plastic flower attached to it. I put it on. It fit perfectly. “And he’ll keep you safe?”

“Mom, he’s RoboCop. He has guns for arms.”

She looked over her shoulder pad, smiling at me, wide and beautiful, knocking the breath from my chest a little. “Good. As long as you’re happy and safe, that’s all I could ever want. What’s the theme for the wedding?”

“Star Wars.”

“Right. And the color scheme?”

“Every color.”

“Got it. And will there be food?”

“If you make it, there will be.”

“Sassy little minx.”

I grinned at her. “I already have the menu picked out.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Mr. T Cereal as an appetizer, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pizza Crunchabungas as a cleanser, Big Macs for the main course, Sharkleberry Fin Kool-Aid to drink, and Jell-O Pudding Pops for dessert, because Bill Cosby is funny and I like him.”

“Everyone does,” Mom said. “It’s because he’s a family man and respects boundaries.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I said.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Which I hated. As of last count, there were two hundred and twenty-six things that I would have to be told when I was older. “Now. When you said veil, did you mean a train?”

I squinted up at her. “Like… on the tracks?”

“No. I meant the part of the wedding dress that drags along the ground behind the bride.”

“Ohh. Yes. That.” That had to be the most important part. Everyone knew that the longer it was, the better.

“I think I have an idea,” she said, tapping her chin.

I loved it when she had ideas.

“WHAT IN the fresh hell is going on in this house of horrors?” Nana said when she burst through the front door. “I get a phone call telling me my grandson is getting married? I thought child brides only happened in places far from here, like Vermont. Paul, pack your bags. I am taking you to live with me in my RV. To be up-front with you, it’s cramped and smells weird.”

“It’s not what you think,” Mom said to her, trying to fix the lacy table runner she’d attached to the sunhat. It flowed down my back and trailed along the floor behind me. “You made me promise when I was pregnant to not sell my kid for a goat or five hundred dollars. I keep my promises, Mother.”

Nana’s eyes widened when she saw me. I waved at her. I felt good. I felt right.

“Matty,” Nana hissed. “Why is Paul wearing a toga, a floppy hat, and that thing that goes on the dinner table?”

“It’s his wedding day,” she said. “He’s marrying RoboCop.”

And Nana, without even missing a beat, said, “What? Why was I not called to officiate this? This is a damn tragedy, I tell you! A damn tragedy.”

“Language,” Dad said, coming into the room with the box of Mr. T Cereal. The box proclaimed quite proudly that there were Mr. T stickers on the inside. I reminded myself to make sure I claimed those as my own once the wedding was over. I truly did pity the fool who didn’t have Mr. T stickers. “This is a magical day, and I will not have it sullied because of bad language.” He opened his fanny pack and pulled out plastic spoons and forks, spreading them prettily over the dining room table next to the cereal box and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pizza Crunchabungas. Mom said she hoped fanny packs never went out of style, because no one wore them like Larry Auster wore them.

“Paul,” Nana demanded. “Don’t you want me to be the one who marries you to RoboCop?”

To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. “I was just going to have Teddy Ruxpin do it,” I admitted.

“Teddy Ruxpin?” Nana gasped. “I am so much better than that—that motherfu—”

“Language,” Dad trilled as he came back from the kitchen with a pitcher of Sharkleberry Fin.

“—motherducking bear,” Nana said. “Ask me how many weddings I’ve officiated. Go ahead. Ask.”

“Nana, how many weddings have you done?”

“None,” she said. “And how dare you deprive me of doing it for the first time. For my grandson no less.”

“Fine,” I sighed. “You can do the wedding.”

“Thank God,” Nana said. “Because I already wrote what I was going to say on my way over.”

“Even though you thought we were selling him as a child bride to someone from Vermont?” Mom asked, giving the table runner one more good tug before pushing herself to her feet.

“I’m opportunistic,” Nana said.

Mom took me by the hand and led me to the full-length mirror in the hallway. I gasped when I saw my reflection.

“I look so cool,” I breathed.

“I did good?” Mom asked.

“You did good. You’re my favorite right now.”

And then she teared up, leaning forward and kissing me on the cheek and nose and chin. “My little boy,” she said, voice cracking. “So grown up. Where has the time gone? I can’t believe this is happening already.”

I groaned as I struggled to push her away. “Mooooom. Stop it. That’s gross!”

“I’m allowed to get emotional,” she said, still trying to kiss my face off. “It’s not every day your son gets married. One day you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

“Argh,” I said, wondering if I could get away with kicking her in the shins. I decided against it, not wanting to ruin my outfit. She must have seen the look in my eyes, because she only went on for another minute more before she backed away, taking her shins out of reach.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Everything should be all set up and ready to go. When you hear the music, you can come into the room. RoboCop will be waiting for you.”

I nodded, and she smiled at me before she went back to the living room. I turned around and looked in the mirror. For once, I didn’t see a chubby kid that didn’t really have any friends. For once, I wasn’t focused on all the things that made other kids not like me very much. Today, I was wearing white, and I had a big hat and a train that flowed down my back.

“Suck it, Princess Diana,” I whispered.

And then I heard the opening bars of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, which Dad said was the only wedding song that anyone should walk down the aisle to. I had agreed wholeheartedly and was humming to myself as I goose-stepped into the room.

“Why is he walking like that?” Nana asked, standing near the table that was doubling as the altar. “Somewhere, Jewish people are feeling a disturbance in the force.”

“We just roll with it,” Dad said. “Also, it’s a Star Wars–themed wedding, so Dark Side and all that.”

“Ah,” Nana said. “Rolling with it. The tried-and-true method of parenting.”

The room looked amazing. There were Imperial streamers hanging from the ceiling, leftover from my last birthday party I’d had that no one in my class had come to. A huge wall sticker of the Death Star was on the ceiling.

My toys were lined up on either side of me, a veritable who’s who of the rich and famous. There was Lion-O. Boba Fett. He-Man. Rainbow Brite. The Ecto-1, with Slimer sitting on the top. The entire Smurf village. My Lite-Brite, lit up in the shape of a heart. Optimus Prime. Bert and Ernie. A Rancor. My Buddy, though he didn’t look too well, given that I’d gone through my hairdresser phase last year and had taken to him with a pair of scissors. Teddy Ruxpin, of course, but he was silent, as Nana would be officiating. I hoped he wouldn’t be too mad at me.

My speak-and-play RoboCop stood on the table next to Nana and my parents, waiting for me. He looked handsome for a man that was mostly a robot.

Dad turned down Def Leppard as I came to stand next to the table before Nana. My parents moved until they were standing on either side of me. Dad squeezed my shoulder and Mom blew her nose into a silk kerchief.

“Hello, RoboCop,” I said. “You look very nice.”

I reached up and pressed the button on his back.

He said, “Dead or alive, you’re coming with me.”

“This old thing?” I said, fiddling with my hat. “It wasn’t that expensive.” I pressed the button again.

RoboCop said, “Come quietly, or there will be… trouble.”

I sighed happily.

“Is that toy suitable for kids?” Dad asked with a frown. “Who got him that?”

“I did,” Nana said. “And of course it’s suitable. It’s a toy. Toys are made for children. Watch.” She pressed the button.

“Serve the public trust, protect the innocent, uphold the law,” RoboCop said.

“See?” Nana said.

“I thought that movie was for adults,” Dad said.

“Dad!” I growled. “This is my wedding day. You’re embarrassing me.”

“Sorry,” he said, running his hands through his perm. “Just nervous. I’ve never been to my son’s wedding before.”

“It’s okay,” I said, patting him on the hip. “Just don’t speak anymore and we won’t have a problem.”

“Bridezilla,” he said.

I glared at him because I was pretty sure that was speaking.

He winked at me.

I melted a little, because no one could wink like my father.

“Dearly beloved,” Nana said. “We are gathered here today to join together two pieces of a whole. A divided soul that will now become one in holy matrimony and love and other stuff. RoboCop, a hardworking robot cop who protects the city of Detroit. And Paul, a hardworking human boy who inexplicably can somehow pull off that hat-and-toga combo.”

I preened.

“If there is anyone here that believes these two should not be joined, please speak now or forever hold your peace.”

No one spoke.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Paul Auster,” Nana said. “Do you take RoboCop as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“And RoboCop, do you take Paul as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Madam, you have suffered an emotional shock,” RoboCop said. “I will notify a rape crisis center.”

Dad started choking. We waited until he finished.

“By the power invested in me,” Nana said, “which is all encompassing and should not be taken lightly, by the state of Arizona, I now pronounce you husband and robot.”

Mom and Dad cheered.

Nana smiled.

I swooned.

RoboCop said, “Excuse me. I have to go. Somewhere there is a crime happening.”

It was the best day ever.

Chapter One: Self-Doubts Can Be Cured by Blowjobs at Work

March 2, 2016

T-Minus 24 Days

“GOD,” I said, tearing off my headset and throwing it down on my cubicle desk. “If I could quit this job and never have to think about car insurance ever again for the rest of my life, I would be the happiest person alive. This is the worst place in the entire world.”

“What about Iraq?” my best friend, Sanford Stewart, asked me from across the aisle. “They kill you there for things like eating cake or wearing suspenders.”

I frowned at him. “I don’t think that’s quite right.”

“Have you been there before?”

“Erm. No.”

“Then you have no idea.” He took a nail file from his desk and began brushing it against his fingernails. “Trust me, Paul. I know what I’m talking about. I’m a drag queen.”

I was barely able to restrain the eye roll. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that that’s not how that works.”

“Of course it is. Everyone knows that drag queens are more knowledgeable than everyone else. It’s written in the gay bible. ‘Yea, and then God in all his fabulosity decreed that there shall be light, and that light came in the form of a man in a wig and killer boots. And it was good, and the world was brighter because of it.’”

I groaned and lay my head on my desk. “That will get you stoned in Iraq.”

“It’s a good thing we’re not going to Iraq, then.” There was a pause. Then, “Okay, spill.”

I didn’t have the strength to lift my head. “Spill what?”

“Paul Auster, don’t you dare try that bullshit with me. I’ve known you for far too long for you to try and get something by me. If you don’t tell me what’s wrong in the next five seconds, you are going to get such a spanking. And I promise it won’t be the sexy kind.”

I’m sure he could hear the smile in my voice when I said, “Really? And you don’t think the Homo Jock King would get jealous over something like that?”

“Oh please,” Sandy scoffed. “I do what I want to when I want to. Darren doesn’t get to say anything about it.”

I snorted as I lifted my head up. I slunk down in my chair, going against every company-wide e-mail I’d ever received on the value of being ergonomically correct. If someone saw me, I was probably going to get sent to yet another training class where I’d be shown how to sit in a chair correctly.

Honestly?

I couldn’t find any fucks left to give right then.

“Oh really,” I said. “Does Darren know that?”

Sandy wouldn’t meet my gaze, too focused on his fingernails. “Why are we even talking about him right now?”

“Because you’re in lurve with him,” I teased. “And it’s hysterical that you still get twitchy when we talk about it.”

I didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed. “I’m not in lurve,” he said.

“Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, princess.”

“Ew. Don’t call me that. Mike calls me that. And you know how I despise him with every single fiber of my being.”

“Eh,” I said. “I think you’re all bluster when it comes to him.” Mike was the owner of Jack It, the club where Sandy performed as Helena Handbasket. He was also the one that had Freddie Prinze Juniored the crap out of Sandy and Darren, getting them together in a scheme so convoluted and preposterous that I still wasn’t clear on all the facts, but I couldn’t deny the end result. Mike might have been a creepy bastard, but he’d somehow pulled off the one thing that the rest of us couldn’t: he’d gotten Sandy Stewart and Darren Mayne to stop trying to kill each other and instead got them to choke on each other’s dicks. It was an impressive feat, and even though he was a total skeezeball, I had to hand it to him. There was something unscrupulous in the way he’d gone about it that I couldn’t help but admire. But since he was disgusting, I would never say that to his face.

“I hate him, and nothing will ever change my mind,” Sandy hissed at me. “He’s lucky he still has the lungs in his chest from which to draw breath.”

“Funny. You used to say the same thing about Darren.”

“Paul, I will stab you in your pancreas. Don’t think that I won’t.”

“Empty threat.”

He grinned at me, razor sharp, more Helena than Sandy. “You want to try and see what happens?”

“Meep,” I said. Then, “Sorry. So sorry. Please don’t hurt me.”

“That’s better. Now, I will ask one more time. What. Is. Up. With. You?”

“Geez, you think after getting some on the reg, that you’d be—”

“Paul!”

I winced. “It’s… nothing. And can you wait till I finish before you look at me that way? Jesus Christ. It’s nothing big. Just… wedding stuff.”

He blinked. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“What? No! Of course not. Sandy. It’s Vince. I am not going to do any better than that. He’s literally a ten where I’m a soft five—on a good day. Oh, and there’s also feelings and love and all that other crap, but a ten, Sandy. He’s a ten.”

He got that frown on his face, the one I recognized, and I knew what he was going to say even before he opened his mouth.

“I really wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself that way,” he said. “You’re a beautiful, sweet, bitchy man. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

I fought back the retort that wanted to come out. Regardless of how long Vince and I’d been together, regardless of how good he made me feel, there were always the lingering insecurities I carried with me. They weren’t as prevalent as they used to be, but they still nagged at me every now and then. You couldn’t be fat and not have them.

“I know,” I said instead. “And I believe you… mostly. And for once, it’s not even really about any issues I have. Well, not completely.”

“Riiiight,” Sandy said.

“Hey, it’s not. Okay, I totally just realized that that’s a lie. My bad.”

“Now, Auster.”

“Okay, but… like. Just, hear me out, okay?”

His work phone rang. He connected the call. “This is Sandy. How may I help you? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. A big accident, you say? With injuries? That’s terrible. Unfortunately, all our computer systems are down at the moment. Right? Such bad timing. Can you call back later? Uh-huh. Good, thank you. Have a green lizard kind of day!” He turned back to look at me. “Continue.”

Since I was mature and responsible, I had to at least say the right thing. “The computers aren’t down.”

“Right? But this is so much more important. Continue.”

I was done being mature and responsible. “I’m having doubts.”

“I thought you just said—”

“Not about Vince,” I said quickly. “I could never doubt him. He’s… Vince, you know? But I’m having his doubts for him about me.”

“Um,” Sandy said. “What.”

“Right? That’s exactly what I said. What is he doing?”

“No,” Sandy said. “But, like, for real. What?”

“Seriously! What does he think he’s doing? What’s his endgame?”

“To… marry you?”

“He could do so much better! I mean, have you seen him?”

The skin under his left eye twitched. “Several times.”

“So he’s got to have some diabolical plot, right? Or at least that’s what I thought. And then I began to think that of course he’s not like that. First and foremost, that would require forethought, and I really don’t know if he even knows what that means.”

“He’s far too precious for this world,” Sandy agreed.

“So now, the only thing that makes sense is that he somehow blurted out that he wanted to marry me, and just happened to do it at the most awkward brunch ever—”

“I can’t believe how much bacon my one-night stand ate. How he keeps that ass, I’ll never know.”

“—and now he’s trapped in something he didn’t really want to begin with and has to follow through with it because he knows Nana would hunt him down and string him up by the balls.”

“Was she really a bounty hunter in the seventies?” Sandy asked.

“She says she was,” I said. “I asked Mom about it, and she said the seventies were a weird time for everyone so she couldn’t say for sure.”

“God, I can’t wait to be like that woman when I grow up,” Sandy said. “And also, shut up.”

“Excuse me?”

“Paul. Vince loves you. He loves you more than anything else in the world. He might even love you almost as much as I do. All anyone has to do is see the look on his face when they talk about you and they’ll know. It’s disgusting and gives me cavities, but that man worships the ground you walk on. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

“I want to hug you right now.”

“I’m doing my nails.”

“Hence why I’m not hugging you. I do want to keep my testicles where they are.”

“Good boy.”

“You know that it’s pretty much the same for you, right? For you and Darren.”

Sandy made a face at that. “Dare and I are nowhere near your level of romantic idiocy. And we never will be. It works for us, and I think I’d rather choke myself with cat hair than ever be compared to you and Vince. You and Vince are so sweet to each other, it’s like watching elephants give birth to baby elephants.”

“That’s not even remotely close to what it’s like. I don’t even know why you would say that.”

He ignored me. “Dare and I have built our relationship by being mean to each other. I can bitch at him, he can bitch at me, and then I fuck him or ride him like a prize bull and we’re good.”

That was an image I could do without. “Except I was there when you blurted out you loved him, and then he tackled you and you guys were eating each other’s faces in front my parents and his mom.”

Sandy sniffed. “I can’t help when I have to announce my feelings. It’s all part of being a drag queen.”

“I don’t think that’s really true—”

“Anyway, we’re not talking about me and Darren. He and I aren’t getting married—”

“Yet,” I coughed.

“I will fuck you up, you little bitch, don’t think I won’t. We’re talking about you and Vince, and how that man loves you. And you obviously love him enough to get married at a goddamn horse farm of all places, which, again, I believe I must protest.”

I rolled my eyes. “Too late. Deposit already in place. And it’s not a horse farm. It’s a twenty-acre horse ranch with intrinsic beauty, rich history, and multiple facilities that make the ranch a perfect place to hold unforgettable events. Their all-inclusive packages make wedding planning—”

“Do you have the entire website memorized?”

“It’s not my fault! Do you know how long I had to stare at that thing to let it sink in when Vince showed it to me? Sandy, he wants to ride horses. Like we’re some kind of horse people. It’s 2016. If I need a mode of transportation, I get in my car.”

“Wait. So you want to drive your car down the aisle?”

“Oh sweat balls. No. That’s not what I meant.”

“Because that would be really dumb.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t think they’d even allow it.”

“Why are we even talking about this?”

“I don’t know,” Sandy said. “You’re the one getting married at a horse farm. Oh, excuse me. A horse ranch.”

“They had packages,” I said morosely. “We went with the one called Wild Horse Premiere Sonoran Sunset.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It’s an open bar.”

“That sounds amazing,” he corrected. “The wedding of the century. This is going to be the best event I’ve ever—I can’t do it. I just can’t. Paul, I need to be honest with you.”

“You always are. Even when I don’t want you to be.”

“Good. You’ve already dashed my dreams with the venue and the whole not allowing me to plan the wedding thing and also not allowing me to officiate.”

“Sandy, if you planned the wedding, there would be more sequins and glitter than at a drag queen orgy.”

“Rightly so. But there is one saving grace, one light at the end of this whole dark tunnel. Would you like to know what that is?”

“I don’t know if I do,” I said honestly.

The smile he gave me made me really uncomfortable. “I, as your best man, get to plan your bachelor party.”

Lord have mercy. “Oh no,” I whispered.

“Oh yes,” he said, pointing the nail file at me. “And Paul, you best believe me when I say that it is going to be a night that you will never forget.”

Oh dear God. I needed to salvage this before he got drunk with power. “Okay, but there needs to be a few rules. No strippers. No drugs. No—who are you calling?”

“Vince?” he said into his headset. “Hi, baby doll. Can you do me a favor? I’m sitting with a sad sack that you might know. Paul? Yes, Vince. Paul Auster. I—yes, Vince. I’m aware you know him. That’s why I—I’m so happy you love him. That’s… good. Yes. No, I don’t need to hear about that. That sounds like something you need to keep between you and your priest. Yes, Vince, I know you don’t go to church. I just—never mind. The reason I called? Dammit, now I forgot. You distracted me with all your—oh. Paul. That’s right. Can you do me a favor and take him to the supply closet and blow him? He seems to be having some doubts about the whole wedding thing. Oh no, dear, not about you. He’s worried about you having doubts about him. Right? He’s such a silly goose. Now I’ll send him over, and if you could just fellate all those worries away, it’d be greatly appreciated. Thanks, baby doll.” He disconnected the call and swiveled his chair in my direction again.

Where I sat gaping at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You can’t just do that!”

He rolled his eyes. “Uh yeah, I can. And I just did. Now get out of here, get your penis licked, and when you come back, I expect you to be ready to tell me how pretty I am because I have a show tonight and I don’t have time for your shit, Paul Auster, I really don’t.”

“What the hell is going on?” I asked faintly.

“I’m taking charge,” Sandy said. “Now scoot. You’ve got a muscle jock probably waiting on his knees for you. How many people can say that?” Then he grinned. “Well, I can say that, so.”

For some reason, I found myself on my feet, walking toward the supply closet. I wasn’t planning on letting Vince blow me at work, but I couldn’t be too cautious. I had to act cool, calm, and collected so no one would know I was thinking sexy thoughts while at work. “Evans,” I said, passing a coworker. “Didja see that sportsball game on the television last night? Yeah, me too. I have touchdown fever. We should sit in a room together and make up a fantasy sportsball league because that sounds amazing. Go sportsball! Mildred! It’s your birthday today, and the only reason I know that is because people passed around a birthday card for us to sign, hiding it in a folder and trying to be secretive about it, even though it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. When you get the card, still act surprised. There’s cake. Well, sort of. It’s cherry cheesecake bought from the store, so. You know. That’s disgusting. Chris! You have mustard on your face. It’s nine in the morning. What could you have possibly been eating at nine in the morning that needed mustard? Don’t answer that. It sounds terrible enough already.”

By the time I’d made it to the supply closet, I was sweating, sure everyone in the office knew that I was half-hard at the idea of my fiancé sucking my dick in a place where we could get caught and most likely fired. Granted, I was usually sweaty, so I hoped that would throw some people off the blowjay trail. I didn’t know if it was possible for a man of my stature and personality to be subtle, but I sure as shit was going to give it the old college try.

“Oh!” I said quite loudly. “I have to go into the supply closet to do… supply… closet… things. Like, take stock of the… Post-its. No one had better bother me, because God help you if you make me lose count.”

No one even looked in my direction.

I was a master of subtlety.

I went into the supply closet, slamming the door behind me.

And there, in all his glory, stood Vincent Taylor.

The problem with him standing there in all his glory was that I was trying to think nonsexy thoughts. And all his glory consisted of looking like a motherfucking hot piece of ass. It was extraordinarily unfair what suspenders could do to a man, namely him. And also me. If I tried to wear suspenders, I looked like I was auditioning to play a mall Santa at Christmas with my bowl full of jelly.

When Vince wore suspenders, it caused boners—of both the male and female variety—for everyone within a one-block radius. And yes, he knew that, the smug bastard. After all, he saw the look on my face every morning when he got dressed and decided that day felt like a suspenders kind of day. It probably also didn’t help his ego that I would stand in our bedroom, jaw slacked and drooling, watching him clasp the suspenders to the top of his slacks (like he was moving in slow motion, the bastard).

(And there may have been that one time (seventeen times) that he’d worn the suspenders with no shirt and only his underwear, grunting when I snapped the elastic material against his nipple ring, flushing and telling me to do it harder, he needed it harder—)

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

“Witch,” I hissed at him.

He arched an eyebrow at me, that smug fucking grin on his face growing a little wider.

I coughed. “Um. So. Hi. How is your day going?”

“It was going fine,” he said. “Until I got a phone call from Sandy saying that you were getting weird again.”

“I don’t get weird.”

“A little weird.”

“You’re a little weird.”

He shrugged. “Probably. But that’s okay. Being a little weird got me you, so I don’t really care about that sort of thing.”

“Oh sweat balls,” I said weakly. “You can’t just say stuff like that. You know what validation does to me.”

“Really?” he said, taking a step toward me. I took a step away but didn’t get far as my back pressed against the door. “What does it do to you, Paul?”

Like the asshole didn’t know. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I came in here to count the Post-its.”

“Uh-huh.” He stopped right in front of me. The top button of his dress shirt was undone, and a little bit of chest hair was poking out. Which was distracting. In the best way possible. He leaned forward, and I thought he was going to kiss me or put his hands on my hips, but instead, he twisted the lock on the door. There was an audible click. His breath was on my ear as his cheek scraped against mine. “Post-its are right there. Go ahead.”

“Um. You’re. Sort of. In my way?”

“How about that?” he said, not moving at all. “Real sorry about that. So, about that phone call.”

“Sandy lies about everything. It’s a real problem.”

Vince snorted, which was disgusting because it was right in my ear. “So you’re not worried?”

“Pfft. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He leaned back so he could look me in the eye. “Paul.”

I swallowed thickly. “Yes?”

The heat in his gaze softened. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. Because I did. For some reason, Vince Taylor loved Paul Auster. It was one of those things I couldn’t really explain but wanted to hold on to forever, even when my self-doubt tried to get the best of me.

“And you know it’s real, right? You and me? Because I can tell you again if you need me to.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“It’s real, Paul. And if I have my way, it always will be.”

Have you ever had someone wearing suspenders be earnest toward you before? If so, then you can probably understand why I got half a chub from that image alone. I was a weak, weak man. I said something like “G’largh.”

But he understood what I meant. He always did. “Good.” He leaned forward and kissed me sweetly, and I might have whimpered a little into it, but hey. I was allowed. He pulled away and said, “Because in a little over three weeks, I’m going to marry the hell out of you.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

I shrugged because it really was as simple as that. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, looking relieved. “Thank God we got that out of the way. Now you might want to hold on to something because it’s time for sex face.”

“I might want to hold on to what because of what!”

But he was already on his knees in front of me, hands at the front of my slacks, palming my dick roughly. The sound I made at that point would not have been out of place during a rigorous mating between sea elephants. The back of my head hit the door with a loud thump.

“What are you doing!” I whisper-shouted down at him.

He shrugged. “I was gonna suck your dick a little bit.”

“We’re at our place of business. There are people standing right outside the door.”

“Better be quiet, then.”

“You know that’s not possible. I can’t—and now you’re unbuckling my belt. Why are you unbuckling my belt?”

He frowned up at me, licking his lips. “If you don’t know why, I must be doing this wrong. I’m trying to get at your penis. I can’t suck you off through your pants.” Then he looked forward, straight at my crotch. “Or can I?”

And then he leaned forward, mouthing at my cock through my slacks. I was not proud of the squeak I made at the sight of him, mouth wide, the wet heat pressed against me. He scraped his teeth against the outline of my dick. I didn’t know what to do with my hands because I most certainly didn’t want to urge him on, but I really didn’t think he should stop, so I ended up putting them over my mouth as I attempted to keep all the noise at a minimum.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting back, lips a little swollen. “I could totally do that. We’re gonna need to try that at home.”

I glared down at him, hoping that it came off as we shouldn’t be doing this here, you bastard, and did I tell you to stop? Get back on that!

Apparently, Vince Taylor was fluent in the Glares of Paul, because his hands came back up and unclasped my slacks, then pulled down the zipper as neat as you please.

Now let’s be honest here: erections are ridiculous things. When men are aroused, it’s plainly evident, and there’s really nothing we can do about that. So there I stood in the supply closet at work, my penis out there and practically screaming, I FIND THIS VERY GOOD, PLEASE LOVE ME LONG TIME, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

Well, there was. And there was also something Vince could be doing, but once he got my underwear hitched below my balls, he just sat there, staring up at me, a flushed look on his face.

I dropped my hands and tried a different glare.

Nothing doing.

“Come on,” I said, thrusting my hips forward a little bit. “Do it.”

He licked his lips.

“Just a little bit,” I said. I leaned forward, aware of how ridiculous it was when my dick hit his cheek. “Come on. It’s right there.”

He bit his bottom lip unfairly.

“Vince,” I said plainly. “My penis is ready for consumption.”

He squinted up at me.

I sighed.

“You know what I want,” he said, voice rough.

And yeah, I did. If there was one thing I’d learned over the last couple of years, it was that Vince Taylor is a cock hound. He loved sucking dick. He could go for hours if I’d been able to last. And he always looked slightly disappointed when I couldn’t. I felt bad. Well. As bad as I could after having my brain sucked out through my dick.

And while he usually topped, he liked to be manhandled a little bit while giving head. I found that I had little problem with that.

It was heady, this feeling. I could doubt myself until the cows came home, but in a moment like this, when the man I loved was on his knees, waiting for me to fuck his face, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit powerful.

So I did what any good person would do.

I gripped my dick, smacked it against his face a few times, and told him to open his mouth.

He did, because he was good like that.

I fed him my cock, the heat of his mouth and the twist of his tongue causing my eyes to roll back in my head. He kept his hands in his lap, letting me control everything, trusting me to do it right. The thrusts of my hips were shallow at first, even though he really did have little to no gag reflex, something that he was quite proud of.

And it was while I was deepening the thrusts, while I was getting really into that, no longer caring that I was doing this at work where we could get caught (nay! I told myself; maybe I wanted to get caught), that someone knocked on the door behind me.

I froze.

And since Vince was the absolute worst, he kept right on going, not waiting for me to move, instead working my cock over with his mouth, letting it pop obscenely from out between his lips, spit trailing down his chin, his cheeks blotchy, eyes dilated. He leaned forward and licked the underside until he got to my cockhead, which he sucked back into his mouth, cheeks hollowing.

“Holy crispy corn,” I managed to say.

The knock came again.

“Who is it?” I said, sounding rather shriekish.

“Um, it’s Mildred?” came the voice through the door.

“There’s someone there,” I hissed down at Vince, who had a mouthful of Paul Auster.

He didn’t seem like he minded. If anything, he redoubled his efforts, now using his hands, one tugging on my balls, the other rubbing up and down my spit-slicked shaft.

He was a thing of evil, and I only had myself to blame.

“Mildred!” I shouted. I then had to bite into the fleshy palm of my hand when Vince took me deep into his throat, nose pressed against my pubes, throat working around me. His eyes were watering, but he didn’t back off, breathing shallowly. He pulled back slowly, lips stretched wide.

“Wow,” I breathed. “You are so fucking—Mildred! What do you want!”

“I, um. Need a highlighter? For my—Paul, are you okay? It sounds like someone is slaughtering chickens in there. I know because my grandfather was a chicken farmer.”

I yelped as Vince groaned around my dick. “No! No chickens! What the fuck, Mildred! Of course no one is slaughtering chickens. This is an insurance company, not the mind-scarring hell you grew up in.”

“Right,” she said, as she tried the doorknob. “Paul, the door is locked.”

Vince grinned up at me as my cock slid across his cheek when he went for my balls.

“It’s locked because I get shy when I have to take inventory,” I blurted. “Oh sweat balls, yeah, right there. Oh fuck, baby, that’s—I mean, oh. God. Yes! I just love filling out this order invoice for the office. Oh, we need more paper clips. Damn, that’s so good. I’m gonna get those damn paperclips all over your face, you don’t even know.”

“Excuse me?” Mildred asked.

“Sorry, sorry! I just like… taking stock. Of things. You know how it is!”

“Do you need any help in there? I also like taking stock. I’m really good at—”

“Holy shit,” I groaned as he deep-throated me again. “Yeah, you get it. You just fucking get it.”

“Thank you,” Mildred said through the door. “I do get it, don’t I? Oh, and thank you for telling me about the card! It was so thoughtful of you to ruin the surprise, especially since I don’t do well with surprises. I really liked how you just signed your name without even writing any other message. That was very… sweet.”

“So sweet,” I said to Vince, grabbing the sides of his head, fingers digging into his scalp. His skin was flushed and he was nodding at me, letting me know what he wanted.

So I just skull-fucked the shit out of him.

“It was,” Mildred said. “And the cheesecake looks good.”

“Damn good,” I grunted, feeling my dick hit the back of his throat. “Looks so good.”

“It really does. I’m supposed to be on a diet, but it’s my birthday. I think I’m allowed to cheat.”

“Gonna go in your mouth,” I warned Vince. “You’re gonna need to swallow it all.”

“Oh,” Mildred said. “Don’t you worry about that! I’m perfectly capable of eating every last bite. It’s why I’m on a diet to begin with! You know, it’s a funny story, actually. Cheesecake happens to be my favorite food, so that’s why we have it today!”

“Oh, I’m just gonna make you take it,” I moaned. “Take all of it, okay?” He tapped my thigh to let me know he was good to go.

Mildred laughed. “You won’t have to make me take anything. You might even need to make me stop!”

“Don’t stop. Holy shit, don’t stop.”

“Oh well,” she said. “I suppose you’re right. I mean, if we don’t have the things that make us happy, what do we really have? Thank you, Paul. I think I needed to hear that today of all days.”

“You ready to eat it?” I said roughly to Vince. “Gonna eat it all?”

He nodded, cheeks wet.

“So ready,” Mildred said. “Maybe I will eat it all. Oh, that’s so terrible of me, but it’s my cake, isn’t it? So what if my doctor said I’m one gram of sugar away from being diabetic and losing my foot. It’s my birthday.”

“Yesssssss,” I said as I came in Vince’s mouth. “Oh fuck, yesssss. Do it, fucking do it.”

His throat worked around me as he swallowed like a champ, only the smallest amount dribbling out around my dick and onto his chin.

“Yes!” Mildred said. “I will do it. In fact, I’m going to go do it right now! Best. Birthday. Ever.”

“Fuck,” I panted out, my dick sliding from Vince’s mouth. He looked wrecked, face wet, lips swollen. I leaned down and kissed him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue. He melted into the kiss, whining into my mouth.

And so I did what any good fiancé would do: I unsnapped his slacks, reached in his underwear, gripped his dick, and jerked him off while he groaned against my tongue. It didn’t take long before he came, making a mess of his underwear and my hand.

It took a few moments of us breathing heavily against each other, his forehead pressed against mine, eyes closed.

Finally, he said, “I’m going to marry you, Paul Auster. I’m going to marry you and we’re going to live happily for the rest of our lives. You’re all I could ever want.”

I sighed, not even trying to keep the smile off my face. “You’re so weird,” I muttered.

He grinned at me as he opened his eyes. “Back at ya.” Then he grimaced. “Wow, coming in your pants does not feel good when it’s over. I’m gonna have to lose the underwear.”

Because that was knowledge I needed. Knowing that Vince would be walking around the office commando for the rest of the day was going to make this the worst day ever.

Vince chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, pulling my hand out of his underwear, trying not to get jizz on his slacks.

“It’s Wednesday,” he said.

“Yeah?” I looked around, trying to find something to wipe my hand off on. There was nothing, so I shrugged and wiped it on the carpet.

“Hump day,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me. “And we just humped.”

I stared at him.

“Well, we did,” he said, pouting attractively.

“I’m not even going to touch that one.”

“Ha! Because you already did.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

And I absolutely stared at him when he undid his suspenders and dropped his slacks so he could step out of his underwear. I was a good fiancé, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t trip himself and fall. It had nothing to do with ogling his junk at all. Why, that would just be creepy.

“You want to hold my underwear in your pocket for the rest of the day?” he asked me as he zipped his slacks back up while I did the same. “You can if you want.”

I sputtered loudly at him.

“Awesome,” he said, reaching over and shoving his jizzy underwear in my pocket before I could stop him. “Whoa, freeballing is hardcore. It’s like my bean and weenies are just all out and about.” He moved his hips a little. “I might have to do this more often.” He leered at me. He looked like a devious puppy. “All of the things more often.”

“I have no idea what just happened,” I said to no one in particular.

He grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me in for another kiss. “I showed you one of the many, many reasons why I can’t wait to marry you,” he said against my lips. “It’s real, Paul. It’ll always be real.”

And if I swooned a little at that, I don’t know that I could be blamed.

And then came the furious banging on the door. “Paul,” Sandy hissed. “Paul!”

Making sure we were both decent, I turned around and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Sandy stood on the other side, hand raised in a fist to knock again. “What?” I snapped at him.

“What did you say to—holy shit it smells like porn.” His eyes widened. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” He glanced over my shoulder, and if it were possible, his eyes got even bigger. He looked like an anime princess. “Vince looks destroyed. What the hell did you do?”

I shrugged, acting like the badass I was. “Gave him the ol’ what for.”

“He has my come-soaked underwear in his pocket because we’re kinky bitches,” Vince said proudly.

Even Sandy squeaked at that.

“You told me to do this,” I reminded Sandy, not really surprised that my life had come to this point.

“I never thought you actually would. I can’t even—no, I don’t want to even think about it. I’m still not over the incestual sex dream I had, and this is just adding to it. No, I came here for a reason.”

“And that would be?”

He was staring at Vince’s crotch. “Really not wearing any underwear?”

Vince smiled. “When I move, it feels like I’m helicoptering my penis.”

“This is nobody’s fault but my own,” I muttered.

“How nice for you,” Sandy said.

“Hey!” I barked. “Stop staring at his dick. You have your own homo jock.”

“Right,” Sandy said, shaking his head as if he was trying to snap himself out of it. “Mildred. What did you say to Mildred?”

“Why?” I asked. I looked over his shoulder to see people rushing by the storeroom. “And where is everybody going?”

“That’s what I came here to tell you,” Sandy said. “She’s in there practically bathing in her cheesecake. I was trying to heat up my tea, and she came in the kitchen and told me it was her birthday and that you said she could do what she wanted, and she just face-planted right into the cake. Now she’s rubbing it all over herself and laughing and I think the cops are being called. And an ambulance, because diabetes is a very real and serious issue that must be controlled by proper medical professionals and medications.”

“Huh,” I said. “So, I’m feeling sick. Probably should take the rest of the day off so I don’t infect anyone else.”

“Oh,” Sandy said. “Me too. Cough. Cough cough. Ow. My scrotum.”

We stared at Vince.

He gave me a goofy grin. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but I’m just gonna roll with it because that’s what we do.”

“God,” I said fiercely. “I love you so much.”

“Back at you.”

And I didn’t have a lot of doubts after that.

Chapter Two: Daddy’s Got Some News

March 5, 2016

T-Minus 21 Days

“WE’RE HEADING out,” Vince said, hands on the back of my chair as he leaned down and pressed his nose behind my ear. “Probably won’t be back for a few hours.”

“Sandy’s going to be a pain in your ass, just so you know,” I murmured, turning my face until my lips brushed his. “It’s embedded into his DNA to want to control the situation.”

“Nah,” he said. “I got this. I just let him do whatever he wants and smile and nod and no one loses a testicle.”

“Well played. I’ve taught you well. Also, I wish I’d thought about that when we went last week.”

“God,” Kori Ellis said from her spot on the couch. “Between you two muttering sweet nothings to each other over there and Darren and Sandy practicing dentistry with their tongues in the kitchen, I am finding myself more disgusted than usual. I need to find someone who can be single and bitter with me so we can mock the shit out of all of you.”

Vince turned and grinned at her. “You want me to come lay on top of you to make you feel better?”

She glared at him. “That will not make me feel better.”

He took a step toward her. “It makes Paul feel better when I lay on top of him.”

“This much is true,” I said, frowning down at the paper in front of me filled with my chicken scratch. “It’s all about the smothering.”

“I don’t want to be smothered by you, you beefy fuck,” Kori said. “You stay right there.”

“Gonna lay on you,” Vince threatened.

“Paul! Control your man-bitch.”

“Eh,” I said. “Sometimes I let him do what he wants.”

“Those are my favorite times,” Vince said.

“Vince—”

And then there was high-pitched shrieking, cursing, creative threats involving feet in asses, begrudging acceptance, and finally, silence.

I called it the Five Stages of Loving Vince.

I swiveled in my chair to see Kori lying flat on her back on the couch, homework scattered on the floor, Vince stretched out on top of her, his considerable bulk trapping her.

“Shh,” Vince was saying, reaching up blindly to pet Kori’s face. “Shh.”

“What the fuck,” Kori muttered but made no move to push him off. “Why are you the way you are?”

“I am pretty special,” Vince agreed. “Paul tells me that all the time.”

Kori turned her head to glare at me. “This is all your fault.”

I rolled my eyes. “I notice how you’re not exactly fighting him off.”

“He’s warm.”

“That’s because I’m like sunshine,” Vince said cheerfully. “That’s also what Paul tells me.”

“Jesus, you guys are so gross,” Kori moaned. “I didn’t ask for any of this, just so you—I didn’t say you could move.” She reached up and pulled Vince back down when he tried to sit up.

“People like it when I lay on them,” Vince told me.

“Usually, it’s for another reason entirely,” I said. “So you better not be lying on other people.”

“Hey,” Kori said. “What about me? Aren’t you just seething with jealousy right now? Your man is all up in my business.”

“I like you like I would if I had a little sister,” Vince said seriously. “Except when you’re boy Corey, and then it’s like you’re my little brother.”

Kori gaped up at him before looking at me. “You’re lucky you’re locking this shit down when you are. How has he not been eaten alive?”

I shrugged. “A combination of mitigating circumstances, dumb luck, and the fact that he’s oblivious to most things.”

“I often don’t know what’s going on,” Vince announced. “It’s cool. I’m used to it. This one time, I was at a frat party and everyone wanted to go skinny-dipping, so I took off my pants and jumped in the pool. For some reason, everyone else didn’t get naked but just watched me swim instead.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Kori asked.

“Dunno,” Vince said. “I just like swimming naked, I guess.”

“Okay,” Kori said. “You need to get off me now. Paul’s getting that look on his face he gets when he’s thinking about doing the nasty with you. I do not want him to come over here and sit on me too and eat on your face. There is only so much of your bullshit I can take today, and between you two and the dicks in the kitchen, my limit is about to be reached.”

I scowled at Kori. “I am not getting that look.”

“Sex face,” Vince said smugly. “I make him make that face.”

“Off,” Kori grunted, shoving at Vince. “Off, off, off.”

“Are you bitches just lying here?” Sandy demanded as he walked into the living room, Darren trailing behind him looking cool and aloof like a Homo Jock King should. But I wasn’t fooled by him anymore, not with the way his hair was mussed like he’d had someone running their fingers through it. Nor by the way there were these little cracks in his façade of douchedom when he looked at my best friend, his expression soft and sweet. It was really rather disconcerting to see it, but I was getting used to it. “We have so much work to do!”

Vince hoisted himself off Kori and stood next to the couch. “When I left the kitchen, Darren’s hands were on your ass and you were talking about his chin.”

Sandy blinked. Then, “Oh. Well. I have a nice ass and he has a nice chin.”

“Gross,” Kori groaned again.

“We should get moving,” Darren said, sounding bored. “It’s not like I have all day.”

Sandy snorted. “Yeah, because you have so much else going on, bae. Stop acting like an ass because we all know you want nothing more than to take your brother out to get fitted for his suit for the wedding.”

“I don’t see why you get to go,” Darren said. “I’m his best man. You didn’t let me go when Paul got his suit.”

“I’m going,” Sandy said, voice sticky-sweet, “because you two dude-bros cannot be trusted to pick out something that I would consider appropriate. This isn’t your ten-year frat reunion, Dare. You’re not allowed to show up in cargo shorts, a backward baseball cap, a soul patch on your chin, and an undeserved sense of accomplishment. This wedding will be perfect, it will go off without a hitch, and everyone will look as good as they possibly can because I dressed them. Do we understand each other?”

“Is it possible to be a bridezilla when you’re not the bride?” Kori whispered to me.

I shrugged, because I’d learned rather quickly to not interrupt Sandy when he got like this. It made life easier.

“I never had a soul patch,” Darren said, sounding annoyed.

“Did you at any point in your life have blond highlights in your hair?”

“Well, there was that one summer in undergrad that—”

“And did you ever own a braided belt and wear it without being ironic?”

“I liked that belt. I got it on spring break in Tijuana when we—”

“Thank you for proving my point,” Sandy said, then kissed Darren on the cheek.

“How is that proving your point?” Darren asked. He was trying to scowl, but I could see the way his lips quirked, the way his hands settled on Sandy’s waist.

“You’re a dude-bro,” Sandy said slowly. “And therefore cannot be trusted. I’m getting the final say on Vince’s suit because I have better taste than you.”

“You do not.”

“Foot-long Subway sandwich models,” Sandy said, deadpan.

“That was one time. And I’ve never even talked to him since. It’s not like my one-night stand is going to be a groomsman in my brother’s wedding. Oh wait, right. That’s your one-night stand.”

“It’s not my fault Vince is friends with Brian. That’s all on you homo jocks. You guys are like the worst high school clique. Like Mean Girls, except with your big ol’ manly bitties.”

“I told you not to call them that,” Darren grumbled, blushing slightly. Which, if you didn’t know the Homo Jock King like we did, you would have thought impossible.

“Your chesticles?”

“Sandy,” he warned.

“Leave,” Kori said. “Seriously. All of you. Get out.”

“This is my house?” I asked, confused.

“And mine,” Vince said proudly. “Because I live here too. In sin.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Kori said. “Sandy, Darren, and Vince need to get the hell out. Paul, you can stay, but you need to keep your mouth shut.”

“I don’t know if that’s—”

“Paul.”

“The only reason I’ll do it is because of my white guilt,” I said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if my ancestors once owned your ancestors. It would be just my luck if I descended from assholes.”

“I’ll allow it,” Kori said with a sniff, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Lord knows being blaxican is hard enough, what with my preternaturally smooth skin, beautiful hair, and ability to make white people feel responsibility for something that happened a long time ago.”

“I don’t feel responsible,” Darren said, just because he was still an asshole sometimes.

“Your shirt made of cotton?”

“Aaaand there’s the guilt,” Darren said. “Okay, time to go.”

Sandy came over and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said in a low voice. “You know I’ll make him look good.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not worried. No feathers or bedazzled anything.”

“I am a queen. There has to be something—”

“Sandy.”

“Fine. Be boring. See if I care.”

“When it’s your turn, you can do whatever you want.”

“Damn right I will. It’s going to be the wedding of the century. You’ll see. Darren will look—why do you keep making me do that? I am not thinking about marrying Darren!”

“Still standing right here,” Darren said.

Sandy scowled at everyone in the room. “Whatever. Darren, pull the car around.”

“I’m not your—”

“Say good-bye, Vince.”

“Good-bye, Vince.”

“No, I meant say good-bye to every—you know what, I’ll go with Darren to get the car. Paul and Kori, I will see you at the club tonight. Vince, you have one minute to get in the car before I come back in and shove my foot so far up your ass, you’ll taste my pedicure.”

And then he stormed out in the way only a drag queen could: in a cloud of glitter, sass, and an air of completely deserved superiority.

“I’m not into foot play, though,” Vince said with a frown. “At least, I don’t think I am. Paul, am I into feet?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“Huh. Well. Something else to add to the list to try.”

“So gross,” Kori whispered.

Vince kissed me soundly, patted Kori on the head, picked up his wallet and phone, and moved toward the door. “Also, Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“I saw what you were working on. I’m already done with mine. You’re going down, motherfucker. Prepare to drown in an ocean of your tears.”

And then he slammed the door behind him.

Which, of course, caused a two-legged dog with a cart attached to his butt to lose his shit and start yipping wildly as he ran down the hallway from the bedroom, trying to tell me that the door closed, daddy, that fucking door closed and who is here and let me bark at them even though I could be easily picked up and punted like a football.

“Wheels!” I bellowed. “Shut it!”

Wheels did, in fact, shut it, and decided he was better off rolling over to me and snorting at my feet until I picked him up and held him in my lap. Not a hardship by any stretch of the imagination. Two-legged dogs usually weren’t. I detached the cart from his butt, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he lay on his back, reveling in the belly scratches I gave him.

“What are you working on?” Kori asked me.

“Hmm?”

“Vince threatened you.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, he does that sometimes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We have a bet going,” I said, frowning down at the paper before me.

“Another one? I thought you said that you wouldn’t do that with him anymore, seeing as how your last bet turned him, and I quote, into a power hungry monster I no longer recognized as my one true love.”

“I don’t know that I said anything like that at all.”

She waved her hand at me dismissively. “Maybe not out loud, but said it with your eyebrows.”

I covered my eyebrows with my hand, suddenly self-conscious that they were giving everything away. “This bet is different. I only made it because I know I’m going to win.”

Kori snorted. “Because that’s fair.”

“It is.”

“What’s the bet?”

“We would each write our own wedding vows, and whoever cries first when we’re reciting them loses.”

There was silence at that. I looked up from Wheels to find Kori staring at me.

“What?”

“You bet that you could make the other cry because of your wedding vows.”

“Damn right we did. And I am going to emotionally devastate that asshole. Like full-on snot and tears. You know when you cry so hard, you can’t really catch your breath and you feel like you’re going to throw up? Yeah. That’s what I’m going for.”

“You’re trying to make it so he vomits at the altar because he’s crying so hard?”

“Exactly.”

“Your relationship is so weird. I have to know more. What have you got so far?”

“Oh. Um.” I looked down at the paper on the desk.

My heart has a soul, and that belongs to you in addition to my other soul

You are my world, and I want to travel in you for the rest of my days

My loneliness was killing me, and I must confess, I still believe (still believe) that I love you a whole lot

You are my moon and my stars and I want to be a comet in your universe

“It’s still a work in progress,” I said.

“You have no idea, do you?”

“None at all,” I agreed. “But I’ll get there. Trust me, it’ll be worth it when Vince throws up on whatever shoes Sandy picks out.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Need to meet Daddy for lunch. Wanna go with?”

Kori looked down at her homework and sighed. “I really need to get started on this paper.”

“There will be alcohol.”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Fuck my future. I’m in.”

CHARLIE WAS already waiting for us outside Molly’s, a little café on 4th Avenue a few blocks down from Jack It. We probably would have gone to Poco’s, but they’d closed temporarily due to a health department violation. Turned out that a waiter there—who only went by the name Santiago—was found getting gangbanged in the kitchen next to open containers of food, which was apparently frowned upon. It would supposedly be reopened in the summer, and even though there was a chance I had accidentally eaten some of his bodily fluids, I couldn’t help but be somewhat gleeful at the prospect of him getting fired. If anyone deserved to be fired (and then made the poster child for why we should bring back the firing squad), it was Santiago.

Charlie wore a leather jacket that stretched across his broad shoulders and steel-toed boots that I was sure had been licked at some point in their existence. He was old and maybe he didn’t move as fast as he once did, but Charlie was a leather daddy through and through, and he was intimidating as all fuck if you didn’t know him.

But if you did, you knew he was the biggest softie in the world, as evidenced by the smile on his wrinkled face when he saw us.

“Boy,” he said as we approached him. He leaned in and gave me a rough kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said. “Sorry we’re late.”

“My lady,” he said to Kori, bringing her hand to his lips. “You look as lovely as usual.”

Kori giggled. “Thank you, Charlie. You look like you’re going to strap someone to a sawhorse and make them count out loud while you spank them.”

“Eh,” he said. “Probably use a paddle. Arthritis doesn’t let me do a whole lot of spankings these days.”

“Who are you paddling?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Table’s ready and waiting for us,” Charlie said easily. “Just waiting on you two to go sit.”

“I’m onto you, old man,” I told him as he held the door to Molly’s open. “Don’t you think I’ll forget this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said dryly. “Between you and Sandy, I doubt anything has ever been forgotten. Not that there’s anything to be known.”

“Hmm,” I said. “I need to contemplate if you’re lying or not.”

The hostess led us to a table in the corner next to the window out onto 4th Avenue. She handed us the menus before smiling and disappearing.

“Vince at his fitting?” Charlie asked me, sipping on a glass of ice water.

“Yeah. I don’t know why I couldn’t go to his or he couldn’t be at mine, but Sandy said it’s more romantic this way. Bitch has got a boyfriend for like three months and now he knows what romance is. I call bullshit.”

“How’d yours look?”

I pulled out my phone and flipped through a couple of photos before handing it over to Charlie. Kori crowded over his shoulder, not having seen it before either. She’d been in class when we’d gone, much to her consternation.

Charlie whistled low. “Wow, boy. You clean up good.”

“Very good,” Kori said. “I’d hit the crap out of that.”

I rolled my eyes, not trying to show how pleased I was at that. “You don’t think I look too fat?” I asked. “Because I’ve been trying to cut a few pounds for the wedding and I’m not doing a very good job with it. It’s stressful, you know? More stressful than I thought it would be. It’s not—”

“You look wonderful,” Charlie said sternly. “And you don’t need to lose any weight. I don’t know why you think you do. You’re a big guy, Paul, and you carry it well. That’s who you are. Vince fell in love with you for you. You don’t need to change for him or for anyone else. If you want to do it for you, then good. That’s your decision. But you know anything else is bullshit.”

“But the whole double-chin thing, though.”

“I think pretty much everyone has a double chin if they try hard enough,” Kori said.

I scowled at her. “Says the skinniest thing I know.”

She shrugged. “You wouldn’t want to be my kind of skinny. You’re a big dude, Paul. And Charlie was right. You carry it well. Seriously, Vince isn’t going to know what hit him when he sees you for the first time. I guarantee you’re going to win the bet.”

“Of course there’s a bet,” Charlie sighed.

“Nothing bad,” Kori said. “Just who is going to cry first.”

“Oh. That’s okay, I guess.”

“And they are trying to write vows that will make the other cry.”

“And there it is,” Charlie said. “Because nothing is ever easy, is it?”

“Hey,” I said. “This is normal. I’m pretty sure every couple tries to make the other cry on their wedding day. It’s tradition.”

“I don’t know if that’s quite how it works,” Charlie said slowly.

“It’s the new normal,” I said. “Gay marriage has been legal for less than a year. For all we know, this same thing is happening at every gay wedding.”

“Pretty sure others aren’t making their wedding a competition,” Kori said. “But it wouldn’t be us if something funky wasn’t happening.”

The waitress came by, and I tried to get away with ordering a half a house salad and a skinny margarita, but Charlie and Kori glared at me until I gave in and got a bacon cheeseburger and a Bloody Mary like I wanted. They didn’t have to glare very hard. I felt like a failure. But then the waitress brought mozzarella sticks as an appetizer and I didn’t feel like such a failure because I would rather have melted cheese in my mouth than a smaller waist any day of the week.

“Is there going to be a rehearsal?” Charlie asked, nursing his beer.

“Eh,” I said. “It was just one more thing I didn’t think we needed. How hard can getting married be that we need to rehearse? Mom is going to walk Vince down the aisle and Dad is going to walk with me, though they don’t know it yet, so keep your mouths shut. Biff, Chet, Xerxes, Brian, and Darren will be up on Vince’s side. You, Kori, Sandy, Nana, and Wheels will be up on my side. The official will speak for like two seconds, I’ll unleash the most devastating vows anyone has ever heard and everyone will vomit-cry, Vince will say something that won’t compare, he’ll give me a ring, I’ll give him a ring, and then we kiss and we’re married. And then we can go get drunk and dance with our friends and family. The only thing stupid I agreed to do was to go to that damn dance class next weekend with Vince to learn to waltz. I don’t know why I agreed to it, but he had a Groupon, and you know how that’s my weakness.”

“Very specific weakness,” Charlie said. “Vince with a Groupon.”

I shrugged. “Medical science probably couldn’t even explain it.”

“I feel bad for the people standing with Vince,” Kori mused. “They’re all so… the same. Your side is much more festive.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, attacking another mozzarella stick like it had murdered my family. “You should have seen the fit Nana threw when she found out she wasn’t in the wedding party. No one knows where she got that machete. I changed my mind rather quickly after that.”

“Probably Walmart,” Charlie said. “They sell machetes at Walmart.”

“She hasn’t been allowed in a Walmart since 2004,” I reminded him.

“Right,” Charlie said. “The 2004 Walmart incident.”

Kori made the sign of a cross as we held a moment of silence.

Those poor, poor people.

“Is your twinkie friend gonna make it from New Hampshire?” I asked Kori after a respectable amount of time had passed. “Tyson?”

Kori shook his head. “Nah. The spring term starts for him that next Monday, and he’s going home to Seafare before that. He’s convinced his brother and his brother’s husband are keeping something from him, and he’s made it his mission to find out what. Plus, you know. His boyfriend and all that.”

“Are they keeping something from him? And what were their names again? Wasn’t it something ridiculous like Panda and Duck-Billed Platypus?”

Kori laughed. “Bear and Otter. And yeah, they’ve been weird lately. They’re up to something, I just don’t know what. It’s not bad, at least I don’t think. Ty’s doing better, so it’s not anything having to do with him.”

“You don’t want to go see him? Your spring break is coming up too.”

Kori put her hand on top of mine. “There will be plenty of time for that. He’s moving back to Seafare this summer, though he hasn’t told anyone else yet. I think he’s proved to himself what he’s set out to do. This month is about you and Vince. I’m here to help.” She sat back in her chair and spread her napkin on her lap. “Besides, like hell am I going to miss your bachelor party.”

“You know something, don’t you,” I accused her. “You know what he’s planning.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kori said, batting her eyes at me. “Charlie knows too.”

“Oh boy,” Charlie said. “I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about.”

“Daddy.”

He sighed. “It’ll be fun.”

“Are there going to be hats with penises on them? Because if someone makes me wear a hat with penises on them, I will not have fun.”

“Everyone else will,” Charlie said.

The food was brought out and I said good-bye to any hopes I’d had of looking like Vin Diesel by the time my wedding day came. It hadn’t necessarily been a reasonable goal, but I thought I’d at least be able to have one abdominal muscle by the end of March.

“So what’d you want to have lunch for?” I asked Charlie, chewing obnoxiously.

“Can’t I just take out my friends?” Charlie asked, brow furrowing. “Especially one that’s about to get married.”

And oh. That’s how he wanted to play it. “You can,” I said. “And you do. And it’s very nice of you. Thank you.”

He softened a little. “You’re welcome, boy.”

I leaned forward and slammed my hand on the table. “Now cut the bullshit, Daddy. Spill it before I spill your blood.”

“Eep,” Kori squeaked. Then, “God, why do I get fear boners?”

Charlie pointed his steak knife at me. “You want to try me?”

I threw a french fry at his face. It bounced off his forehead. Then I reached across the table, grabbed it, and put it back on my plate, because I was convinced these french fries were made from angel tears and I could not waste even a single one of them. My fat guy priorities were in order.

“Ooh,” Kori breathed. “Motherfucking shots fired. Are you going to stab him, Daddy? Maybe you should wait until after the wedding. Oh, who am I kidding. I’ve never been to a stabbing before. Do it.”

But much to our surprise, Charlie did not stab me. To our further surprise, he deflated, the knife rattling against his plate as he set it down. He picked his napkin up and wiped his mouth, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and said, “There’s something I needed to talk to you about.”

“Ha!” I crowed. “I knew it! What did you do? Did you get someone pregnant? Am I going to be an uncle? Wait, none of that makes any sense. What the hell am I talking about?”

“None of us ever know,” Kori said, patting my hand.

“Dammit,” I said. “That’s unfortunate.” I looked back at Charlie. “Okay. I’m ready. Hit me with it.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Charlie said with a scowl, which obviously meant it was a huge deal. “I just wanted to clear something with you before… you know what? Forget it. It’s nothing.”

“Oh no,” I said. “I absolutely will not forget it. Charlie, you best tell me what it is right now or I swear to God, I will tell Sandy you’re keeping secrets from us, and we both know how that’ll go.”

“Damn queens,” he mumbled. “Using their powers for evil instead of good.”

“Exactly. So you may as well tell me now, because we both know I will find out.”

“It’s not…. It’s nothing big….”

And that’s when I knew I needed to stop messing around with him. If there was one thing I knew about Charles Danvers, it was that he never asked for anything. He did his very best to make sure that all of us had whatever we wanted, that all of us were taken care of, but he never asked for anything. For birthdays. For Christmas. Favors. Anything. This was… serious.

But the more I played it up, the more uncomfortable he’d become, and he didn’t deserve that. It was serious, yes, but he didn’t want it to be.

“You can ask me whatever you want,” I said lightly. “You know that. Anything for you, Daddy.”

He looked up at me, eyes narrowed, gauging my sincerity, which made me feel like a bit of an ass. Sometimes not having a filter wasn’t the best thing in the world.

Kori kept quiet, seeming to have picked up on how serious this was.

Charlie looked like he was struggling to find the right words. He scrubbed a gnarled hand over his face as he muttered something I couldn’t quite make out. But then I could see the resolve taking over, and I hoped whatever came next wasn’t bad. If Charlie was… sick, I didn’t know what I’d do. I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Maybe not ever.

So when he spoke and went a direction I didn’t expect, I was a little dumbfounded.

“You know when you sent out the wedding invitations?” he said, sounding extraordinarily grumpy. “And I RSVP’d and put I would be coming by myself?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, unsure of where this was going. “But you didn’t even need to do that, because you’re in my wedding, Daddy. You’re family, you know?”

That steel exterior cracked a little, and he gave me a small smile. “I know, boy. And it’s the best family I’ve ever had.”

Uh-oh. He needed to hurry the fuck up because I was about to have feelings.

“But it’s not about that,” he continued. “It’s… um.” He glanced between Kori and me, and suddenly it hit me that he was nervous. Never, in my entire time knowing Daddy, could I remember him being nervous. “If it’s not too much trouble. I’d like to… change. That.”

“Change what?” I said, sounding rather breathless, even to myself. I wasn’t sure if I was scared or not because I had no idea what was going on.

He swallowed thickly as he scratched the back of his neck.

“You’re blushing,” I said in awe. “Why are you blushing!”

“Oh my God,” Kori whispered. “No. Fucking. Way.”

Charlie’s eyes went wide as he looked at Kori.

“Are you being serious right now?” she demanded.

He licked his lips. Glanced back at me. Looked back at Kori. Then nodded.

“You sly old bastard!” she shrieked.

“What is happening!” I shouted, not even caring that everyone was looking at us.

“Keep your voices down,” Charlie hissed. “We’re in public.”

“I can’t believe you hid this from us,” Kori said, pulling out her phone. “I am going to tell so many people, you don’t even know. I’m going to tell people I don’t even know. I don’t care. Everyone needs to hear this. This might be the greatest thing that’s ever happened. Paul, your wedding is a close second.”

“Everyone does not need to hear this,” Charlie said, deftly plucking her phone from her hands as she squawked at him.

“Hear what?” I said, exasperated.

Charlie sighed. “I need to change the invitation. To a plus-one. I’m… bringing. Someone. With me.”

“What,” I said. Because what.

“It’s not a big deal,” Charlie said, sounding defensive.

“Um, yeah it is,” I said. “You have a secret boyfriend. In what world is that not a big deal? Also, Kori, I was about to fucking stab you in the eye for saying my wedding was second for you behind this, but now that I know what’s going on, I totally agree.”

“Thank you, Paul.”

“That being said, if you ever say my wedding day is second again, I will sell your organs on the black market.”

“Understood, Paul.”

Before I turned back to look at Charlie, I gave Kori a complicated series of movements with my eyebrows, suggesting that she allow me to take the lead on this. She responded in kind, telling me she would be my backup. We’d perfected this during the days of Good Cop, Bad Cop, Corrupt Cop when the whole Darren and Sandy debacle had occurred. Well, most of us had perfected this. Vince just kept bursting into laughter every time I tried to talk to him with my eyebrows. He was such a lost cause.

We turned slowly back to Charlie, who folded his arms across his chest, looking like he was having none of our shit.

“Hi, Daddy,” I said.

“Boy,” he responded, the warning evident in his voice.

“So, how are you?”

“Really. That’s what you’re starting with.”

“Doing good?”

“Yes, Paul. I’m good.”

“That’s nice to hear.” I smiled at him to let him know we were all friends here and that he had nothing to worry about. “So, anything you want to talk about?”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“Ain’t nobody talking about our lord and savior right now, funny man,” Kori said, eyes wide. “Maybe cut the shit and get on with it.”

“Kori,” I hissed. “I gave you the eyebrows. You know what that meant!”

“I couldn’t take it anymore. You were taking too damn long. Paul, he has my phone. I have been without my phone in my hand for almost five minutes. Do you understand what that means for someone of my generation? It’s like you took my pancreas.”

I squinted at her. “How is that like taking your—”

“It makes sense! I am a millennial. Someone might be tweeting something that I have an opinion on and will need to give said opinion unsolicited. It’s what we do.”

“It’s not about tweeting,” I said, sounding scandalized. “It’s about Daddy lying to us about his little somethin’ somethin’ he’s tapping on the side.”

Charlie drank the rest of his beer in one long gulp.

“Getting dark,” Kori whispered. “Can… barely… function… without… social media….”

“His name is Robert,” Charlie said, and that pretty much ended whatever it was Kori and I were doing.

“Robert,” I repeated.

“Robert and Charlie,” Kori said. “Okay. I can see this.”

“How long have you been dating him?” I asked.

That made him look even grumpier. “We’re not dating. That’s not what we’re doing.”

“Then what are you doing?” Kori asked.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Is this your fuck buddy? Did you just ask me if you could bring your fuck buddy to my wedding?”

“You watch your mouth,” Charlie said, pointing a finger at me. “I will not hesitate to get you over my knee, you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said meekly.

“Good. Now, you get to ask five questions. No more. Make them count.”

“How old is he?” Kori blurted.

“That wasn’t even a good question,” I snapped at her.

“Excuse you, it was an excellent question.”

“Sixty-seven,” Charlie said.

“You cradle robber,” I said, suitably impressed.

“I’m not sure that’s how that works.”

“Okay,” I said. “My turn to ask a question. How long has he been your love bug?”

“Oh, like that was any better,” Kori muttered.

“We’ve been… enjoying each other’s company since just after the New Year,” Charlie said.

Enjoying each other’s company, Kori mouthed at me, before giving the universal sign of a blowjob, tongue firmly planted in her cheek. Literally.

“I can see you,” Charlie said. “In case you didn’t know.”

“I meant for you to,” Kori said. “How did you meet him?”

“How does anyone my age meet men these days?”

Kori cocked her head as I picked up my Bloody Mary to take a sip. “Grindr?”

“What? No. Getting my prostate checked.”

I sprayed Bloody Mary out of my nose and mouth all over the table.

“You look like your insides exploded and are leaking out of you,” Kori said with a grimace, handing me another napkin.

“Everything is burning,” I wheezed. “And he was checking your prostate? Charlie, TMI. So much fucking TMI. That has to be against the Hippocratic oath or something—”

“I was at a doctor’s appointment,” Charlie said, dry as dust. “In the waiting room. So was he.”

“Ohhh,” I said, dabbing my napkin in the water before rubbing it on my face. I had pepper in my nose, and I figured it was probably there to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. “That makes more sense. And probably what I should have gone to first. I am nothing if not a product of my upbringing.”

“Two questions left,” Charlie said.

“Why now?” Kori asked. “What happened to make you want to introduce us to him?”

Daddy shrugged awkwardly. “It’s uh… ah, hell. It’s getting serious, okay? At least I think it is. And I wanted to give it time in case it wasn’t. I didn’t want—okay. Look. I just… I just want him to meet my family. I talk about all of you enough, like you’re my own kids.” He glanced at me before looking away, seemingly embarrassed. “And your wedding day is going to be one of the happiest days of my life. I want him to be there so he can see that.”

“I’m not crying,” I sobbed. “You’re crying. And even if I am crying, it’s because of the Bloody Mary. And also your words, you old bastard.”

“Wow,” Kori said, wiping her eyes. “You are so going to lose that bet with Vince.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, sniffling. It smelled like tomato juice. “I totally got this.”

“You can’t change your mind,” Kori told Charlie. “You have to bring him now. It’s out there. We know. We’ll find him if you change your mind. And no one wants that.”

And when Charlie said, “I won’t change my mind,” I believed him. Then, “Last question.”

Kori nodded at me, giving me the go-ahead. And there was really only one question left to ask, and I thought maybe it was the most important one. Even though I already knew the answer, I needed to see the look on his face.

“Does Robert make you happy?” I asked, Bloody Mary still on my face and clothes and all over the table, even on Charlie’s steak somehow.

And I saw the way his eyes lit up, the curve of his smile. The way he sat a little straighter even as he ducked his head, blush spreading along his cheeks again. “Yes,” Charlie said. “I believe he does. He’s… good. For me. Makes me feel younger, you know? It’s been a long time since I had someone who… cared about me. Like that.”

And because I really couldn’t take it another moment, I stood up quickly, chair knocked over, everyone staring at us yet again. But I didn’t give a flying fuck about them or if they thought the fat gay guy was making another scene. All that mattered right then was that moment when I stood behind Charlie, bending over and wrapping my arms around him, chin on his shoulder while he patted my hands clenched tightly on his chest. “I’m happy for you, Daddy,” I whispered in his ear, and if he wiped his eyes, well.

None of us were going to say anything about it.

Chapter Three: German Peanut Farmers Are All About the Nuts

March 9, 2016

T-Minus 17 Days

“PAUL GAVE me Sleepytime Tea and then took me in his windowless van!” the parrot known as Johnny Depp screeched as soon as Vince and I walked into my parents’ house for dinner.

“That was more descriptive than usual,” Vince said. “I wonder where he learns all this?”

“I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count,” I muttered, setting Wheels down and watching him tear down the hallway.

“Pretty!” Johnny Depp screamed, having heard Vince’s voice. “Pretty, pretty!”

Vince frowned. “Why would you give me three guesses and not count two of them? That doesn’t seem very fair. What if I get it right on the first guess, but then it didn’t count?”

“What? Vince, what are you—you know what? Never mind.”

“Okay, my first guess is television.”

“Look at that, you were right.”

He grinned at me, making my heart thump a little out of whack in my chest. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to him smiling at me like that. At least, I hoped I wouldn’t. “First guess,” he said. “Right on. Go me.”

I couldn’t even bother to correct him, because I was too busy kissing him instead. It was starting to get a little more heated than it should have, standing in the entryway to my parents’ house, but I couldn’t find a reason to give a shit right then.

“Well,” Nana said from somewhere behind me. “If only Matty and Larry had let me wire the house with multiple video cameras like I wanted to for a pay-per-view show starring me. I’d be raking in the dough right now because of you two. Gay guys doing gay-guy stuff always sells. Look at that Doogie Howser. He’s got a husband and some kids and makes a lot of money. You can’t tell me those two things aren’t related.”

I sighed against Vince’s mouth even as he smiled wider.

I pulled away, reminding myself to pick this up later. “Hi, Nana,” I said. “And I don’t know if gay guys doing gay-guy stuff means the money you think it will. That’s not quite how it works.”

“Please,” Nana said with a snort. “If people will watch women reenacting the time they sat on a toilet and crapped out a baby they didn’t know they were having, they’ll certainly watch you two doing gay-guy stuff.”

“What’s gay-guy stuff?” Vince asked before I could stop him.

“Oh,” Nana said. “You know. Living happily. Having nice taste. Keeping a clean home. Being successful and kind. Hosting classy dinner parties with watercress sandwiches and dry martinis. Living and laughing and loving each other.”

“Aw, Nana,” I said, surprised.

“Also butt stuff,” Nana said. “Lots and lots of butt stuff.”

“And there it is,” I said.

“I don’t know if you can show butt stuff on TV,” Vince said seriously. “Studies show that people are still seriously homophobic in America’s heartland. Religion plays a major role, and while we’ve made great strides, people still fall back on their misguided faith rather than practicality.”

“Whaaat,” Nana said slowly as she stared at him.

I sighed. “The radio in my car got stuck on NPR for the last few days.”

“I’m informed,” Vince said with a grin.

“You know things?” Nana demanded. “I know things too! Did you know that there are significant declines of shellfish in the Chesapeake Bay?”

“I’m a Bernie-bro,” Vince said. “I feel the bern and then tell everyone about it, even when it’s not appropriate to do so.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered, making my way toward the kitchen. As I passed by the living room, I saw Wheels sitting under Johnny Depp’s perch, growling at him, the parrot spitting, “Bad dog, baaaaaaad dog,” down at him. Since Wheels only had two legs, he couldn’t jump and tear Johnny Depp to pieces, much to my chagrin, so I wasn’t worried. Plus, it lightened my soul to hear Johnny Depp sound nervous.

Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, Mom singing along with the radio while she bent over to check something in the oven, and Dad, not one to miss an opportunity, smacking her ass. Which apparently was to her delight, if the way she giggled meant anything.

“My eyes,” I groaned. “It burns. It burns.”

“Oh stop it,” Mom said. “You know that your father and I still enjoy a healthy sex life. We’re all adults here.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek when I sat on a stool at the counter.

“Doesn’t mean I want to see it,” I said. “Or hear about it. Or acknowledge it at all.”

Dad dropped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “We know you and Vince have sexual relations. It’s just the same for us.”

I snorted. “Trust me, you do not have the same sex life that Vince and I do—oh my God, what am I saying? Stop it!”

“Son,” Dad said. “I may not understand what it means to be a pony, but your mother and I aren’t exactly vanilla.”

“Nope,” I said, shoving him off me. “Nope, nope, nope. We’re done. Conversation over. Vince, we’re leaving. Grab Wheels and run.”

“But we just got here,” Vince said as he walked into the kitchen, Nana trailing behind him. “And I’m hungry. Your mom made lasagna. You know how I feel about that.”

“At least someone appreciates the hours and hours I’ve spent slaving away in here,” Mom said, grabbing Vince’s arms and sashaying with him around the kitchen. He laughed as he moved with her, still able to surprise me with the grace of his movements. Mom leaned over and whispered something in his ear, and if it were possible, his smile got even bigger.

“Close your mouth,” Nana whispered in my ear. “You’re about to start drooling, and no one finds that attractive, Paul.”

My teeth clacked together as I snapped my mouth shut.

“Not that we don’t love having you here,” Dad said, watching Mom and Vince dance, “but shouldn’t you guys be going to the club tonight for Helena’s show? You usually don’t come over for dinner on Wednesday.”

Even though I had no reason to be, I was still somewhat nervous. Of course my parents were going to agree to walk us down the aisle, however unorthodox it would be. I didn’t even think it was something we needed to make a big deal about. I was going to call them on the phone to ask them, but Vince had looked rather horrified at the idea, telling me that of course it was a big deal, that we had to do it face-to-face. Maybe I was nervous because he was nervous. Again, he had no reason to be, and I tried valiantly to reassure him of such. Mom and Dad loved him almost as much as they loved me. He was already theirs just like Sandy and Kori were. I didn’t think he quite believed me. But this was Matty and Larry Auster we were dealing with; they’d make sure he knew it before the night was over.

I shrugged. “Her show doesn’t start until nine. Darren and Kori can help her get ready tonight, and we’ll stop by when we’re done.”

Dad watched me curiously. “Everything all right?”

Uh-oh. He knew something was up. Which meant his dad alert was pinging in his head, probably leaping to some foregone conclusion that had no bearing on what we wanted to talk about tonight. It probably didn’t help that every time he looked at me like that, I felt like a little kid who’d done something wrong and was trying to keep him from finding out. This wasn’t going to end well. “Everything’s fine,” I said.

“Paul. Look at me.”

Ugh. I didn’t want to do that at all. But I wasn’t going to let him win. So I forced a smile on my face and met his gaze straight on. “Yeah, Dad?”

He stared at me.

I started to sweat.

“Matty,” he said without looking away. “Your son did something or is about to do something, and he’s trying to keep it from me like that time when he was thirteen and decided to drink a beer from the fridge when no one was home and we found him passed out in the backyard in only his underwear because he’s a lightweight.”

Goddammit.

“Paul did what?” Vince said.

“Nothing,” I said. “It wasn’t a thing. We don’t have to make this a thing.”

“Paul,” Mom said, coming to stand next to Dad, and now I really felt like a kid about to get into trouble. “What are you hiding from your father?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” I said.

“Oh,” Nana said, coming up beside me and leaning in close until her face was inches from my own. “He’s doing that thing where he bites his lip and sweats on his neck. He’s hiding something.”

Vince leaned in too. “Yeah, I see it. What are you hiding, Paul?”

I glared at him.

He smiled at me.

I glared harder.

His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, that’s right. Shit, I’m hiding something too—I mean, we’re not hiding anything.”

“Language,” Dad chided gently. “And now you’re both hiding something?”

“Absolutely not,” I said, standing up and pushing past them. I needed to get away from their knowing gazes. “It’s nothing. Mom, this lasagna smells delicious. I see there’s salad. I won’t be having any of that because I’ve decided to just accept that this is how I’ll look at the wedding. There had better be garlic bread.”

“There’s nothing wrong with how you look,” Mom said, heading back toward the oven. I felt Dad staring at me, but I resolutely ignored him. “Vince, tell Paul there’s nothing wrong with the way he looks.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” Vince said dutifully.

“Thanks. That was heartfelt, all of you.”

“I’m onto you,” Dad said, pointing two fingers at his eyes, then directing them at me. “You think you can trick dear old Dad? Oh, son. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Wow, Mr. Auster,” Mom said, sounding a little breathless. “You sounded like some kind of supervillain.”

Dad smiled evilly and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Do you need me to take over your city with a devious scheme, Mrs. Auster?”

“I do love devious schemes, Mr. Auster.”

And I opened my mouth to say something about how gross they were being, about how nobody wanted to see or hear that, but I stopped when I caught the look on Vince’s face. He was smiling fondly at them, like he was so happy that he could even be here to witness the travesty in front of us. I reminded myself of why we were here and closed my mouth again. If it made him happy to see them happy, then who was I to ruin that?

UNFORTUNATELY, DAD’S suspicions of us didn’t let up as we sat down to dinner. I could see him eyeing the both of us as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Vince and I didn’t have a specific plan beyond asking them at some point. We hadn’t really told them about the plans for the wedding party. They knew that we’d wanted to do this wedding our own way and didn’t seem to mind having minimal input.

“And that’s how I ended up finding out that I had consumed my twin when I was in the womb,” Nana said, finishing a story that I wasn’t sure was true or entirely sane.

“Wow,” Vince said. “That’s amazing. That’s just like that episode of Corazón que miente we watched last week. What are the odds?”

“Oh,” Nana said. “That’s right. Okay, I might have gotten it from that. To be honest, I don’t remember much of my childhood. They found me in the woods when I was sixteen. The Wolf Girl, they called me. ‘Beware of the Wolf Girl,’ they said. ‘She’ll come at Christmas and steal your presents and your uvula.’”

“We looked into an assisted living facility,” Mom said. “But we just like her too much to ever put her there.”

“That and the fact that they knew I’d cut them out of my will,” Nana said.

“You have fourteen dollars,” Dad said.

“If you get it in pennies, it seems like a lot,” Nana said.

“That’s true,” Dad said. “Hey, Paul?”

“Yeah?” I was distracted trying to put as much lasagna on a piece of garlic bread as I could.

“Do you have tumors and/or are you dying?”

“No,” I said, satisfied with the ricotta cheese to noodle ratio. “I don’t have—hey!” I glared at him. “You’re trying to trick it out of me!”

“So there is something.”

“Ooh,” Nana and Mom said.

“What? No. And even if there was, why do you automatically go to tumors?”

“You always go to worst-case scenario first,” Dad explained. “That way, if that’s not it, anything else will be better by comparison.”

“I like it when he gets logical,” Mom said, sipping her wine and smiling somewhat lecherously at Dad. “It does things to me.”

“I can’t even with this,” I said to no one in particular.

“You’re dying?” Nana asked. “Can I have your stuff? Ever since your father pointed out I only have fourteen dollars, I have this strange urge to become much more materialistic.”

“I’m not dying.”

“Darn it,” Nana said. “Oh, I mean, yay. That’s good. That’s… good. Vince? What was the name of that poison they used in Corazón que miente when they wanted to kill someone without leaving any evidence behind?”

“Uhh,” Vince said, scrunching up his face. “I don’t remember? I’ve had to learn too many things this week, and sometimes I have to forget other things to know the new things. I don’t know the poison, but I can tell you about the concerns coming out of North Korea.”

“No,” Nana said sadly. “That’s okay.”

“Good,” Vince said, looking relieved. “Because I don’t remember anything about the concerns coming out of North Korea. I had to forget that in order to remember to wear a tie to dinner tonight.”

“You’re not wearing a tie,” Nana pointed out.

Vince frowned as he looked down at his tie-less chest. “Ah, man.”

“Why would you need to wear a tie?” Mom asked. “We’re not fancy here. You don’t need to dress up.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nana said. “I’m fancy as shit.”

“Language,” Dad said.

“Nana, your muumuu has pictures of Donald Trump getting punched in the face by Speedy Gonzales,” I said. “I don’t know if that’s fancy. And I almost don’t even want to know where you got that.”

“You can iron images onto fabrics,” Nana said. “It’s not that hard of a concept. I do know how to use the Internet. And I’m not fancy now. It was just you two coming over for dinner, and I didn’t think it was supposed to be a big deal. If I’d known this was going to be a black-tie affair, I would have put on underwear.”

“Hup,” I gagged. “Hup. Hup.”

“I know you’re up to something,” Dad said, pointing his fork at me. “And you can bet I’m going to find out what.”

“Dear, don’t threaten people with cutlery,” Mom said. “It’s not civilized.” She blinked. “Oh, listen to me, sounding all high and mighty, especially after I just said we weren’t fancy. Never mind. Threaten away.” She picked her fork up and pointed it at me as well.

I sighed.

“Can I do it?” Vince asked me, glancing at my parents, then back to me. “I want to do it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to wait. I forgot my tie and North Korea, and I want to do this now before I forget what I want to say.”

I used my napkin to wipe my mouth to make sure I didn’t have lasagna on my face so my parents would take us seriously. “Um. Okay. Go ahead.”

He reached under the table and took my hand in his. I squeezed him gently so he knew I was ready too. He nodded, took a deep breath, and then looked back at Mom, Dad, and Nana.

“Okay. So. Hi.”

“Hi,” Mom said.

“S’up, trick,” Nana said.

“Did you two murder someone and need help hiding the body?” Dad demanded. “Because if you did, we’d need to rent a truck and take it out to the desert. I know a place.”

“No, Dad,” I said as evenly as possible. “We didn’t murder anyone. And while I appreciate you having my back in case I ever did, we’re going to need to have a talk later about why you think I’m capable of something like that.”

“He’s just worried,” Mom said. “You’re making us nervous. This sounds serious.”

“It is serious,” I agreed. “But it’s nothing bad. It’s actually really good.”

“You know we’re getting married,” Vince said.

“You are?” Nana gasped. “I didn’t know that. Ha, psych. You guys thought I had dementia. Classic.”

“And you know Nana is already standing on Paul’s side of the wedding.”

“Yes,” Nana said. “Paul, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that. I have an idea for the costumes I’m going to be wearing, and I wanted to run it by you.”

“No costumes,” I warned her. “In fact, you are going to wear what I pick out for you and nothing else. And also underwear.”

She scowled at me. “I didn’t survive ’Nam to have you youngsters tell me how to live. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe in those jungles.”

“That was Rambo: First Blood Part II,” Mom said, patting her hand. “You were watching it on your VCR last week.”

“I never get to have any fun.” Nana sighed.

“Is this a money thing?” Dad asked. “Because you know we want to pay for everything.”

“It’s not about money,” I said, shaking my head. “And while we appreciate you wanting cover the cost of everything, we can’t ask you to do that.”

“Oh,” Mom said. “Well, this is going to get awkward, then.”

I narrowed my eyes at them. “What did you do?”

Mom and Dad exchanged a glance before Dad said, “We might have accidentally called the ranch and instructed them to charge everything to us and had them refund the deposit?”

“You what?”

“Whoa,” Vince said. “Righteous.”

“And we might have paid for your suits in full,” Mom said, looking somewhat chagrined.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I demanded.

“Because you’re our son,” Dad said. “And you’re marrying the love of your life. Of course we want to pay for it. Paul, it’s the least we could do for the both of you.”

Any unnecessary anger I’d felt departed almost immediately. “But… this is your retirement. You guys shouldn’t be spending it on us.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “That’s right. It is our retirement. Meaning that your father and I get to decide to do what we wish. And our wish is to pay for your wedding. Don’t argue with us, Paul. Not on this. You’re not going to change our minds. You’re our son, and this is going to be your only wedding. Of course we want to pay for it. If anything, think of it this way: you’ll now be able to take a honeymoon. We know you were going to postpone any trip since you’d just gone to Asia last year.”

God, I loved the hell out of them.

“Yeah,” I said roughly. “Okay.”

She looked surprised but pleased. “Huh,” she said, smiling at Dad. “That was easier than I thought it was going to be. Either I am very convincing, or whatever they want to tell us is terrible and they’re softening the blow.”

“You’re still going to have babies, right?” Dad said, blood draining from his face. “Paul, you promised me grandbabies.”

“I promised you no such thing,” I said. “You were all up on Vince, convincing him that—”

“Because you can’t spell convincing without Vince,” Vince said.

“Oh, baby,” I said. “You can. You really, really can.”

He looked confused, and I could see him mouthing the letters. “Oh,” he finally said. “Right. My bad.”

“And this has nothing to do with kids, anyway,” I continued. “We haven’t had that discussion. We probably won’t have that discussion for a very long time.”

“It’s not like you’re getting any younger,” Dad muttered.

“Hey!”

“Oh snap,” Nana said. “That sounded like it burned. Holla.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself.

“Uh-oh,” Mom said. “He’s doing that nostril thing. Larry, I think he’s being serious.”

“I don’t do a nostril thing!”

“Yes you do,” everyone else said.

“I think it’s cute,” Vince said. “It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“Aww,” Nana said. “That’s so sweet.”

“One of the first things you noticed was my nostrils?” I asked, outraged.

“And your ass,” he said, leering at me.

“Language,” Dad said. “But how nice.”

“The love here is so overwhelming,” Mom said.

“And that’s why we want you to share in our love,” Vince said.

“I’m not into open relationships,” Nana said.

“Oh dear,” Mom said. “I don’t think I am either. And we’re related to Paul.”

“You’re a handsome man,” Dad said to Vince. “But I don’t want Paul to be jealous, even if I’m a DILF.”

I banged my head on the table.

“It’s not that,” Vince said. “We want you to….” He hesitated, looking down at my hand in his lap. Then he proceeded to shatter my heart into a thousand tiny pieces. “I don’t have parents. Not anymore. My mom… well. You know what happened to her. And even if she hadn’t died, I don’t know that anything would have changed. I hadn’t talked with them. Not like—not for a long time. Not anything meaningful. And then came Paul and with Paul came all of you, and for the first time in a long time, I thought maybe I could have something just for me. Someone that didn’t care that I wasn’t always the smartest person or didn’t need for me to act a certain way because of an election.”

Well fuck me up and call me his bitch. If he could just think of this off the top of his head, I was absolutely doomed when it came to his vows. There was absolutely no fucking way I was going to win this bet. That asshole. That beautiful, sweet asshole.

He looked back up at my parents, who were clutching each other’s hands on top of the table. Mom’s knuckles were white with tension. He huffed out a little breath. “I thought that after she died that things would be… different. Maybe my dad would see me differently. That he’d realize some things weren’t worth losing your family over. I waited, but he never called. And I almost called him a few times, but I didn’t.”

I hadn’t known that. It made me ache a little.

“And after a while, I stopped waiting. Because I saw what was right in front of me, you know? I didn’t need him to be my family because I already had one.”

Jesus Christ. Even Nana was wiping her eyes.

“Sorry I rambled,” Vince said, blushing furiously as if he realized just how monumental his words were. “I just… wanted you to know. So when we asked you to walk us down the aisle, you would. Because gender norms, right? We don’t need them. NPR taught me that. And Paul.”

I was so going to get the radio fixed as soon as possible.

“What he means,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “is that Nana is already standing up with me. We’d like it if Mom would walk with Vince and Dad would walk with me, and then both stand with us too.”

Mom burst into tears.

Nana started wailing.

Wheels howled.

Johnny Depp screeched.

Dad looked thunderstruck.

“Wow,” Vince said. “Did I do all of that? Holy crap, Paul, you’re so boned when it comes to the wedding vows! Ha! Suck on that, motherfucker! Oh, sorry, Larry.”

“Language,” Dad scolded him, wrapping an arm around Mom’s shoulders as she laid her head against him and cried.

Vince leaned over to me, mouth near my ear. “I didn’t mean to make them cry,” he whispered. “Was that okay?”

I turned my head and kissed him hard. “Yeah,” I said as I broke the kiss. “You did okay. They’re happy.”

“You’re ours too,” Mom said, hiccupping just a little. “You have been since the day Paul brought you home for the first time.”

“Yeah?” Vince said, sounding hopeful.

“It’s why we wanted you to call us your parents,” Dad said. “Because you’re just as much ours as Paul is. And Kori and Sandy. And, most likely one day, Darren.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to have a big family,” Nana said. “How lucky are we?”

“Vince is going to change his last name to Auster,” I blurted. And then, “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that yet.”

And even my father’s eyes were wet at that. “It’s a good name,” he said gruffly. “German peanut farmer name, in case you didn’t know.”

“So it’s okay?” Vince asked shyly. “I can be an Auster too?”

I didn’t think I’d ever seen my mother move as quickly as she did then, pushing up from her chair and running around the table, laughing and crying as she all but tackled Vince. His chair rocked back dangerously, but I caught it before they both toppled over. She sat in his lap as she hugged him, chin on the top of his head. “You can be an Auster too,” she said. “And I would be honored to walk with you.”

“And the same for me,” Dad said, looking straight at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now. Thank you, son. It’s probably going to be my favorite day ever.”

“I haven’t been this happy either,” Nana said, bottom lip trembling.

“Paul’s a dirty whore who gave me herpes!” Johnny Depp shrieked.

“Okay,” Nana said. “I lied. Now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Chapter Four: The Great American Bro-Off

March 12, 2016

T-Minus 14 Days

“PLEASE MAKE an immediate right turn,” That Damn Bitch said.

“We’re literally stopped on a bridge right now,” I growled at the GPS. “There are cement girders on either side of us. I can’t turn.”

“Recalculating,” she snapped at me.

“Maybe you should consider getting a new car,” Sandy said from the passenger seat. “Your GPS wants to kill you, your radio is making Vince smarter. All of this sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“And yet we still find ourselves getting in the car every time,” Corey said from the backseat. “It’s like we don’t know how to learn lessons.”

“Your destination is… four hours and… fifty-seven minutes… away,” That Damn Bitch said. “Please proceed on the highlighted route.”

“Where the hell is she taking us now?” I groaned.

Sandy played with the touch screen in the car. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?”

“Did you know that on the road to Sedona there’s a place called Bloody Basin? Apparently she wants you to go there.”

“Murder car,” Corey breathed.

“Recalculating,” That Damn Bitch spat.

“Why do you even need the GPS?” Sandy asked. “You’ve been out to the horse farm before. Can’t you remember how to get there?”

“Horse ranch,” I corrected. “And it’s really far out here. I don’t want to get lost. We’re already running behind schedule in meeting with the wedding coordinator. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Please proceed on highlighted route,” That Damn Bitch said.

“Okay, we’re not that far from the Sanctuary,” Sandy said, looking at the screen. “Be tee dubs, that sounds like a place for a cult. Why are you getting married at a horse cult farm?”

“Heh,” Corey said. “Or a colt farm. Get it? Horse and cult? Colt? Colts are horses? Right? Yeah, you guys get it. You’re not laughing because it’s too good. I get up all in your shit.”

“You know how I feel about you telling jokes,” Sandy said. “The answer you’re looking for is not good.”

“I’m awesome at jokes,” Corey muttered. “And why isn’t Vince here? Shouldn’t he be the one to come with you? It’s not even nine in the morning on a Saturday. The first Saturday of spring break, mind you. I should still be in bed and considering a lazy jerk-off before going for some Pop-Tarts.”

“Children these days,” Sandy said to me, rolling his eyes.

“Vince and Darren are bro-bonding or whatever they do when they do stuff,” I said. “Probably grab-ass ball in the park while checking out the racks of all the frat guys. I don’t know. I’m not a bro, so I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t we be bros?” Corey asked. “We’re all guys. Well. Okay. Some of the time we’re all guys.”

“I’m always a guy,” I said.

“Sure you are, Agnes Beaverton.”

“I will never forgive you for that,” I hissed at Sandy.

Who proved he knew me way too well by ignoring me completely. “We’re besties,” Sandy said to Corey. “There’s a difference.”

“This sounds borderline stereotyping,” Corey said. “Maybe I want to be a bro.”

I snorted. “There’s no way you can pull off being a bro. Either of you. You both flail too much.”

“Bullshit,” they both said at the same time.

“I could totally be a bro,” Sandy said. “Hello. I’m a drag queen. In case you didn’t know, that means I can do pretty much anything.”

“And I’m blaxican,” Corey said. “Which automatically means I’m badass. Also, I just found one of Vince’s baseball hats here in the back. I’m going to wear it and cock the bill to the side so people know I probably used too much Axe body spray and am serious about bro-ing.”

“Can we please just focus on why we’re in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?” I pleaded. “I just want to get in, have what’s-her-nut show us some shit, and then get out and go home and take off my pants. That’s all I want.”

“Sure, dude,” Sandy said, slumping down in his seat and putting his feet on the dash.

“Yeah, man,” Corey said from the backseat. “I got you, bro.”

“Oh no,” I whispered.

SANCTUARY WAS exactly that: an oasis in the middle of the desert. The hills around were sand and rock and filled with cacti and scrub brush, but the ranch itself consisted of grass so green it almost looked manufactured. There were stone paths throughout the ranch, large palm trees lining either side. A huge barn was at the east end. There was a ballroom with a large outdoor patio made of imported Italian tile. There were Chinese lanterns that were strewn along the ranch. I’d never been here at night before, but the wedding was to take place at sunset and I’d only seen pictures from previous weddings. It was going to be beautiful when it was all said and done.

We just had to get to that point.

And there was a chance we wouldn’t, given the possibility that I’d be sitting in jail for the murder of two of my best friends.

“Welcome back to the Sanctuary,” Sophia said, a bright smile on her face. She’d been assigned as our wedding coordinator. She’d had an impressive portfolio when we’d been considering the ranch, and Vince liked her, even as I grimaced at how lavish the place was. But I’d known then as I knew now that I’d give him whatever he wanted. “It’s so nice to see you again, Mr. Auster.”

Hence the goddamn horse ranch.

“I told you to call me Paul,” I reminded her. She was a petite woman, just a little older than Corey, which meant she was a baby. But she had this spunk about her that I normally detested, but somehow worked for her. She was the type that had been a cheerleader in her Catholic high school and shrieked things like J-E-S-U-S! HE’S OUR SAVIOR AND THE BEST! GOOOO JESUS! and then graduated and became an adult, but still jumped for Jesus.

Or something.

“Paul,” she said as if I’d bestowed upon her the greatest gift known to mankind. “Of course. Paul. Paul!”

“Yikes,” I said. “Er. Hi, Sophia.”

“Where’s Vince?” she asked, glancing down at the clipboard in her hands. “Is he running behind schedule?”

“No, he’s with his brother today. He was good with me coming here on my own and giving the okay on anything we needed.”

“But you’re not exactly alone, right, brah?” a voice said from behind me.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

“Oooh,” Sophia said. “And who do we have here?”

“If you ignore them,” I told her, “they don’t exist.”

She looked at me strangely.

I looked at her even more strangely.

“I’m Sanford,” Sandy said. “Best bud. We drink broskis together. My favorite president is Theodore Broosevelt.”

“Oh my God,” I moaned, putting my face in my hands.

“Corey,” the other idiot said, hat cocked on his head at a ridiculous angle. “My friends call me C-Rock. Paul and I go way back. We met playing frolf. Legit.”

“Ooo… kay,” Sophia said. “What’s frolf?”

“Frisbee golf. It’s how we do. It is how we do.”

“Okay, then,” Sophia said, the smile on her face a little dimmed. “Paul. Sanford. And… C-Rock.”

“No,” Sandy said. “Changed my mind. I also have a bro name.”

“Whyyyyy,” I said, staring up at the sky in anger.

“It’s S-Word,” Sandy said rather gleefully.

“S-Word?” Sophia frowned.

“Say it all together slowly. It has a double meaning.”

“S… wooord. Swoooord. Oh! Sword. I get it!”

“Damn right,” Sandy said. “Double named because I’m double-edged.”

“Sophia, can you give me a moment with my… these people?” I asked, smiling sweetly at her.

“Oh, of course! I’ll just go wait near the entrance to the Rio Salado Ballroom. It’s the double doors at the end of the hall. Let me know when you’re ready!”

And she had a peppy skip in her step as she walked away.

“Thank you, Sophia!” I called after her. “You’re a peach, a lifesaving peach, and I would just—okay, what the fuck are you two doing?”

“We’re bros,” Sandy said as if I was stupid.

“Super Mario Bros, even,” Corey said.

They high-fived without looking away from me.

It was rather creepy.

And annoying.

“You do not get to mess this up for me,” I snapped at them. “I mean it. One thing goes wrong, and I will take it out on your hides later, you get me?”

“Bro,” Sandy said. “You need to chillax. Who you think you talkin’ to?”

“Yeah,” Corey echoed. “You talkin’ to us. Chillax.”

“I will bathe in your blood.”

“Settle down there, Brosef Stalin,” Sandy said.

“Seriously,” Corey said. “Take a chill pill, Napoleon Bronaparte.”

“I hate you both so goddamn much,” I said before I whirled on my heels and stormed down the hall. I ignored the sounds of them following behind me, muffling their laughter with their hands over their mouths. I just needed to get through this tour, and we could leave. I would then drive as far into the desert as I could and leave Sandy and Corey there to die. No one would blame me. I’d probably even get a medal.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a text to Vince.

Paul: You owe me so much for this.

The response was almost immediate.

Vince: who dis

Paul: You asshole

Vince: jk i know who dis. S + C makin you mad???

Paul: They’re pretending to be bros.

Vince: bros?????

Paul: Douchebags

Vince: oh. darren sez we r bros too. we’ll have a bro-off.

Paul: I hate you too now.

Vince: lie. <3 luv u

Paul: I love you too

Sophia had regained the full wattage of her smile when we approached the entrance to the Rio Salado Ballroom. Her eyes flickered over my shoulder and widened slightly before she looked back at me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Sandy and Corey walking with heavy limps like they’d hurt themselves somehow.

“It’s how bros walk,” Corey said, giving me a thumbs-up. “Or gangstas. I’ll admit. I don’t really know what I’m doing right now, but it feels good.”

“Ignore them,” I said when I turned back to Sophia. “They were involved in an accident. Inhaled far too many chemicals. Slowed their mental capacity.”

“Oh,” Sophia said. “Those poor dears. Good on you for taking them with you.”

“Hey!” Sandy said. “I’m not slow. That’s rude and probably offensive to someone somewhere, and you know I don’t like offending people.”

“You’re rude and offensive,” I snarled at him.

“We’re not slow,” Corey told Sophia. “We’re bromosexuals.”

“And this is the Rio Salado Ballroom,” Sophia said, pushing open the doors. “While we can typically hold receptions for up to two hundred and fifty people, I understand your desire to keep the guest list much, much smaller. But given the package that you’ve purchased, this ballroom will be used. If you’d like a much more intimate experience while retaining the ambience, we have a divider that slides out of that far wall and can cut the size of the ballroom in half.”

And it really was nice, much nicer than even I remembered when we’d come here at the end of last year. The carpet under our feet was clean and looked expensive. Crystal chandeliers hung above us. The walls were dominated by large windows, offering a view on all sides. Horses were grazing in the fields around us.

“And I believe we discussed live music as part of the package you ordered,” Sophia continued. “We do have the string quartet that can play before and after the ceremony, but there is also a DJ who will play dance music for the reception.”

“Yes,” Sandy said. “Quite. Indeed. Tell me… ah, what was it? Oh yes, Sophia. This… quartet. Do they take requests?”

“I believe they do,” Sophia said, looking perplexed.

“Don’t you do it,” I warned Sandy.

Sandy and Corey snickered. “So,” Sandy said, “they’ll do Brohan Sebastian Bach?”

“How are you thinking of all these things?” I demanded, unable to sound completely unimpressed.

“Dude,” Corey said. “We’re awesome. Like Broseidon, god of the brocean.”

“We’ll halve the room,” I said tightly to Sophia.

“Good choice,” she said. “You would be surprised how quickly it can go from grand elegance to warm and close. It’ll be perfect for the size of your wedding.”

“Size does matter to Paul,” Sandy said.

“A lot,” Corey said.

“So much,” Sandy said.

“And this opens up to the large sun terrace,” Sophia said. “As you can see, these doors fold out and open, creating an indoor/outdoor space, which only adds to the ambience. And since it’s the beginning of spring, it will be comfortable enough when the sun is up, and cool enough at night to allow the stone fireplaces out here to be lit without anyone getting over warm.”

“Exactly,” Corey said. “Wouldn’t want anyone feeling like they’re in a broaster oven.”

God help me, I almost laughed at that one.

And they saw it.

Which meant only one thing.

They were going to try and get me to break.

“Looks perfect,” I said, voice slightly strangled. “I do like ambience.”

“And I know you said you won’t necessarily need the space for a rehearsal,” Sophia continued, glancing down at her clipboard. “And I made a note here that said you had a photographer?”

“Our friend Charlie wants to do the photographs of before and after the wedding,” I said. “But he’s in the wedding party, so we’ll need yours too, just for that part.”

“I can swing that,” she said, making an addendum. “We’ve already discussed the catering and the bar via e-mail, so we’re set there. The tables will be set up inside and out here, barring any inclement weather. You and Vince already decided on the place settings and the tablecloths, so I think that about wraps it up for the ballroom. Did you want to see the garden again where the wedding takes place?”

I nodded, and she led us down a set of stone stairs, talking at us over her shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse the setup,” she said. “There’s a wedding here this afternoon, and it’s not going to be how yours will be, but it’ll give you a better idea of what the space could look like aside from just seeing the photos. This wedding has a different color scheme than yours. Theirs is heavier on reds and blacks. You and Vince decided on greens and golds, correct?”

“Yeah.” Vince had decided that, and I’d just smiled and gone along with it, unable to do anything but agree with the shy look he’d given me. He’d told me that green and gold were his favorite colors, and he thought how nice everything would look. I couldn’t have agreed fast enough.

The garden was wide open, with palm trees rising high all around. Flowers were blooming, brightly colored and full. A man-made waterfall spilled down into a creek that flowed around the entirety of the garden. We crossed over a small wooden bridge into the garden. There was a gazebo set at one end, white lights wrapped around the wooden beams. Chairs had been set up on the grass, decorated in red and black. It looked slightly ominous, and I was glad we didn’t go with a look so dark.

“That’s the way you’ll come down if you plan on walking into the ceremony after everyone is seated,” Sophia said. She pointed down a divide between the chairs. “And you’ll walk up to the gazebo where the ceremony will be performed. We have the gazebo fitted with speakers should you need to use a microphone so those in the back can hear. Will either of you be walking down the aisle?”

“We both will,” I said faintly, still staring at the gazebo. “Him first with my mom. Then me with my dad.”

“Sounds lovely,” she said, squeezing my arm. “And I know that you may think it’s my job to say this, but I can assure you I mean every word when I say that I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone look at another like Vince looks at you. You’re very lucky.”

I was so going to lose this goddamn bet, because even now, I felt my chest hitch at the thought of us standing in front of everyone, binding ourselves together for the rest of our lives. Maybe I was naïve in thinking it was going to be forever, but isn’t that what the promises made in a wedding are supposed to be about? I couldn’t see myself with anyone else. I couldn’t see myself loving anyone but him.

And it sort of fried my brain.

“Uh, Paul?” Sandy asked. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I breathed.

“And… Sophia, was it?” Corey asked, putting his arm through hers. “Can we give Paul a moment? You can tell me all about the flowers here. I think I see broses and daffodudes.”

“Ah, okay,” Sophia said, sounding confused. “I can do that, C-Rock.”

“Great!” Corey said cheerfully. “Just want to make sure of what we have so we can crosscheck it with any allergies.”

And then he pulled her away.

They were out of earshot when Sandy spoke, fingers curled around my elbow in a loose grip, but enough to anchor me down, to let me know he was there. “You okay?” he asked, dropping the bro persona. “You got quiet there all of a sudden.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. “It just… it hit me, I guess. This whole… thing. What I’m doing here. What I’m going to be doing here. It…. I don’t think I understood until this moment.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked with absolutely no disappointment in his voice, which made me love him all the more. “Cold feet?”

I shook my head. “No. It’s—I guess it’s the exact opposite. I am so ready to do this. If I could do this today, I would. If he were here right now, I’d probably be demanding the coordinator move us up so we could take over the goth wedding that’s apparently happening.”

Sandy laughed quietly. “Yeah, not a fan of the black and red either. But I’m happy to hear that you aren’t having doubts. If you were, I was going to have to kick you in the balls and tell you to shut the fuck up, because Vince is the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

I turned my head to look at him. He smiled at me, that smile so familiar that I thought I knew it maybe even better than my own. “You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

He made a little humming sound in the back of his throat, sliding his arm through mine, hands clasping around my wrist. He laid his head on my shoulder and we looked at the gazebo a little while longer.

“I am scared, though,” I admitted after a time.

“Of what?”

“Things changing.”

“Why would they change?”

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’m getting married. You’re… you’re with Darren. And I’m happy for you. God, I’m so happy for you. It’s just… what if this changes everything, you know? What if you have your thing and I have my thing, and then those things drift apart and we don’t….” I let out a shuddering breath. The thought alone was enough to make me shaky.

He didn’t speak for a long time, and I thought maybe it was because I was being stupid. It wouldn’t be the first time, and most likely wouldn’t be the last. I didn’t even know that I’d been feeling this way until this moment. And now that I was thinking about it, it was all I could focus on. Sandy wasn’t just my best friend. He was my brother, my sister, my self-esteem. He was my biggest critic and my biggest supporter. He would kill for me. He would die for me. He would scratch a motherfucker’s eyes out if they tried to fuck with me. He’d do anything for me, and I’d do the same for him.

He sighed and turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against my neck briefly. “This isn’t an ending.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. This is a beginning, Paul. For you and Vince. You’ve found something I’ve always wished for you. You’ve found the one person you’re meant to be with, and I know with all of my heart that you two will be the happiest you could possibly be.” He stood up straight and leaned over to bump his shoulder with mine. “And I’m gonna be there every step of the way.”

“Yeah?” I said, feeling extraordinarily relieved.

“You think you can get rid of me?” he asked, cocking a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I’ve got my hooks into you, Paul. I have for years. You couldn’t escape from me, no matter how hard you tried. And on the off chance that you do, you best believe I will drag you back kicking and screaming and will shove a ball gag in your mouth while I make you my bitch. Understand?”

“I understand completely. And I don’t know what that says about either of us.”

“It says we’re amazing,” Sandy said. “I love you, you know? I’m not going anywhere. Things are changing, yes, but they’re changing for the better. We can’t be who we were at seventeen, with me sucking on a ring pop and you sneezing your mustache onto Charlie’s face.”

I snorted. I’d forgotten about that. “The twink and the leather cub. God, we were fucking idiots.”

“Maybe. But look where it got us? If we’d never done that, if we’d never gone down that day, who knows where we’d be right now? You and I would still be friends, obviously, but maybe I wouldn’t have met Vaguyna. Maybe I wouldn’t have become a queen. We wouldn’t know Charlie. We might not know Corey. We may not have met the homo jocks. Vince. Darren. Our stupidity gave us a lot, if you think about it.”

“That’s… almost depressing.”

“But strangely not, right? Funny how that works out. You done being all maudlin now? It’s like an Edgar Allen Bro story up in this bitch.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“What do you call to dudes who eat each other out all messy like?”

“Sandy.”

“Sloppy bros.”

“I hate you so fucking much.”

“Liar,” he said fondly. Then his eyes narrowed. “Speaking of Charlie, did I tell you I couldn’t find out a damn thing about his secret boo? He’s being extremely tight-lipped about the whole thing, which is annoying as shit. I am going to break him, or my name isn’t Sword.”

“We’ll meet him at the wedding, right? And Daddy already made me promise that we’ll go easy on him.”

Sandy stared at me.

“I promised him no such thing,” I assured him. “It’s Daddy. We have to make sure he’s in good hands.”

“Damn right. I haven’t gotten to threaten someone in a very long time.”

“Uh, you threatened me this morning when I told you we didn’t have time to stop at Starbucks.”

“Oh, please. That didn’t count.”

“You threatened Corey with death if he didn’t let you sit in the front seat.”

“I’m a queen. I always get to sit in the front.”

“You told me that you threatened Darren this morning that if he didn’t give you a blowjob before you left, that you would, and I quote, ‘fuck your shit up, motherfucker, now choke on my dick and don’t forget to tug on my balls.’”

“I’m very forthright with what I want.”

“I adore you.”

“You should.”

“I feel better.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“This is a happy fucking time, baby doll,” he said, eyes bright. “We should be celebrating. We will be celebrating. And all of this?” He nodded toward the gazebo. “This is what waits for you at the end of that celebration. This… it’s gonna be good, Paul. I promise you. It’s gonna be so good. You’ll see.” He hooked his arm in mine again. “Now, should we go rescue poor Sophia? I’m sure Corey has already discussed the broses and daffodudes to death.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. By the way, if you guys don’t stop talking bro, I’m kicking you out of the fucking wedding, so help me God.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

He tilted his head back and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Chapter Five: The Bachelor Party

March 19, 2016

T-Minus 7 days

I AWOKE to the smell of bacon.

I didn’t think there was a better smell to wake up to.

I loved bacon.

I opened my eyes and stretched. The bed was empty next to me, the covers pulled back, the other side cold. I heard Vince saying something quietly and Wheels barking happily in response.

I smiled up at the ceiling.

It was a great life to wake up to.

The man I loved and boned was making breakfast while talking to our dog.

I was getting married in a week.

Sure, I still had no idea what I was going to say in my wedding vows, but I’d figure it out. I had plenty of time. I could probably make some headway on it today. That sounded like a good idea. I could—

My smile began to fall as I remembered what today was.

The unholiest of all days.

A rite of passage for any man getting married.

Darkness and debauchery.

The bachelor party, hosted by Helena Handbasket.

Sandy had refused to tell me what we were doing, and everyone around me aside from Vince had been secretive. Vince didn’t know shit about it, nor did he know what Darren had planned for his own bachelor party. Vince and I had agreed to specific stipulations, much to the chagrin of Darren and Sandy. There would be no shenanigans that could result in getting arrested, no strippers, no dicks hanging out, no nudity in general (the look of outrage on Sandy’s face had been hysterical), no hookers, no drugs (“Well there goes my plans on snorting coke off the asshole of a prostitute,” Sandy had said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever shall I do now?”), and Vince and I wanted to end the night together.

“Are you kidding me?” Sandy had exclaimed. “The whole point of the bachelor party is to do things separately. And they’re probably going to end up at a sports bar, Paul. A sports bar. Watching sports. You know I’m allergic to that. Why, I’m already breaking out in hives at the thought.”

“We’re not going to a sports bar,” Darren had said, arm around Sandy’s shoulders. It would have been sweet, except for Darren’s resting bitch face. “Don’t get jealous because we’re going to have more fun than you will.”

Sandy scoffed. “I highly doubt that’s going to be true, bae. You’re essentially a straight guy except for the way you like my dick up your ass. You know nothing about how to throw a good shindig.”

“At least I don’t call it a shindig.”

“Don’t blame me because your vocabulary is lacking. Maybe you should read more.”

“Sandy, the only reading material in your house is Us Weekly.”

“It has words. It counts.”

“Keep telling yourself that, boo.”

“You can get so bitchy. God, I love you.”

“Not as much as I fucking love you. And not as much as I love fucking you.”

Then they’d started macking all over each other while Vince and I had stared on in horror. That hadn’t been a good time for anyone. Darren was hot, sure, and Sandy attractive, but Sandy was like my much older sister, and Darren made him make this really weird noise when he did something with his tongue, and I threw up a little bit in my mouth. We tried to leave but then remembered they were in our house, so we kicked them out. I almost had to spray them with a hose like they were dogs in heat. It wasn’t until Vince pointed out twenty minutes later that Darren’s SUV was still sitting in our driveway, windows fogged up and rocking back and forth, that I realized I hated both of them with all my heart.

So, yes. Tonight was probably going to be a train wreck.

But for now, Vince was being all domestic in the kitchen and I really needed to get up on that.

I pulled myself out of bed, popping my back, wincing slightly at the soreness in my ass from where Vince had fucked me up against the couch the night before. We had a healthy sex life. We were young, Vince was hung, and I liked having my legs over his shoulders. We were compatible that way. But the closer we got to the wedding, the more… amorous we seemed to be. I didn’t know what it was about the approaching date, but it made me horny all the goddamn time. Luckily for me, Vince seemed to feel the same way. I figured this out when he decided he needed to jack me off in the parking lot of Safeway on one of our usual Thursday-night grocery shopping trips. I hadn’t complained about that, though I was sure I couldn’t look the guy rounding up the shopping carts in the eye ever again, since we’d forgotten the window was rolled down and I’d been shouting, “Yeah, gonna give you all my semen, you just take it all.”

I thought we needed to go to a different Safeway from now on.

I made my way down the hall toward the kitchen and made a choked-off noise at the sight before me.

Vince, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tight tank top, the back of which was wet from the sweat of his morning run. His tanned shoulders were broad, the sun having brought out a few more freckles than normal. I could see the muscles in his back shifting as he moved in front of the stove, humming quietly to himself. His hair was damp, like he’d dunked his head under the faucet. Wheels was at his feet, looking up at him adoringly, obviously waiting for more bacon to “accidentally” drop to the floor.

“I want to put a baby in you,” I breathed.

He looked over his shoulder, a soft look on his face when he saw me. “Hey, you. What did you say?”

I coughed. “Uh. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“You sure about that?”

“Pretty sure.”

“You look good.”

I looked down. I was wearing ratty boxers and a T-shirt with a hole in the armpit and a stain of what I thought was probably barbecue sauce near my nipple. My hair was sticking up in a thousand different directions, my breath was bad, and I had what felt like crust in the corner of my left eye. “Really,” I said dubiously. “You think this looks good.”

He turned around and shrugged, leaning against the counter. His biceps bunched up as he crossed his arms over his chest. I could see the outline of the bar through his nipple under his tank top. “I always think you look good.”

“You just went outside and ran seventy-four miles before the sun was even up and now you have rosy skin and sweat stains and look like a Sean Cody frat-boy porno, and I look like I just rolled out of bed after being the centerpiece of a midget gang bang in the parking lot of an Arby’s. And not even the good Arby’s. I’m talking the one over on the south side that they found the dead body in and also discovered they were serving horse meat instead of beef. That Arby’s.”

“Then I guess I like eating horse meat with dead bodies because I like the way you look in the mornings,” Vince said. “I pretty much like the way you look all the time.”

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” I said, “but I’m about to kiss the fuck out of you.”

He opened his arms wide. “Bring it.”

I didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed that I tripped over my own feet in my haste to get to him. And when he laughed as I knocked against him, I knew he wasn’t laughing at me, per se. Oh sure, he found me amusing, but it was never mean. When he laughed over something I did, it was always a warm sound, something that I could never get enough of hearing. He was still chuckling when I put my stank breath all over his face, Wheels barking happily at our feet. He was still sweaty, and it felt gross and awesome and he smelled so damn good. His arms were clasped loosely around my waist, and I cupped his face in my hands as I peppered him with kisses.

“Good morning,” he murmured against my lips.

“Hi,” I said, having one of those random moments when I realized that this wasn’t a dream, that this was my life. That he was here with me because he wanted to be, because he chose me over everyone else out there in the world. I still didn’t understand it, not completely; you couldn’t have years of issues with self-esteem and not be incredulous about certain things. But every day, I believed him more and more, which led to these moments, these moments when I felt like I was seeing him again for the first time, my traitorous heart tripping in my chest. I was afraid to open my mouth, and not just because of the stank breath. I was sure I’d blurt out all these feelings, and even though I knew he’d grin at me because of it, I didn’t want him to think I was crazy.

Well. Too crazy.

“Sleep good?” he asked, trailing his lips along my jaw.

“Argh,” I said because words were hard when he was doing that and smelling like he did.

“Cool. And I only did six miles this morning. Not seventy-four. I don’t think I’ve ever run seventy-four miles.”

“Same things,” I grumbled. “You could have just stayed in bed with me and I would have licked your nuts or something. Exercising is terrible. No one likes to do that.” I rubbed my hands over the muscles he got from exercising and realized I was a big fat liar, because I liked it when he did it. And the results from it. And all his boy parts.

Of course he saw right through me. “Really. So you don’t like how my thighs are all hairy and muscular.”

I squeaked but covered it up with a manly sneeze. “Exercising doesn’t make your thighs hairy.”

“Maybe. But they sure are strong.” He reached down and slid the hem of his basketball shorts up his legs. “Don’t you think?”

I stared down between us, over the slope of my stomach, entranced by the sight of his muscular and oh-so-hairy thigh, just as it had been advertised. It was paler than the rest of his leg, but not by much, given that the shorts he usually wore while running were much, much shorter. Obscenely short. Boner-inducingly short. He looked like porn.

“If you weren’t cooking bacon right now,” I told him seriously, “I’d ride that motherfucker for like a week.”

“Bacon!” he yelped, shoving me away. “Holy shit, I forgot about the bacon.”

“And the sexy died a tragic death,” I sighed. “If we were vegan, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“They don’t eat things with faces,” Vince said. “When Corey’s friend Tyson told me that, I felt really bad about it. Because of the faces. But then I remembered I don’t eat the faces, and I felt a lot better about it.”

“You don’t need to listen to him,” I said, opening the cabinet and pulling out the coffee mugs. “He’s a vegetarian. That means he obviously can’t be trusted. He’s been brainwashed by PETA and says stupid things like meat isn’t neat. I assure you, meat is very neat, especially when it goes in my mouth.”

I turned around to see Vince smiling at me. “What?”

He shrugged. “I just like it when you talk.”

“Oh. Um. Thanks? I like it when you… exist.”

He scooped the bacon off the stove onto two plates, which were loaded with eggs and buttered English muffins. He took them to the table while I poured the coffee, grimacing as I mixed in creamer and the unhealthy amount of sugar that he liked so much. I took my coffee black because I was a man.

I handed him his mug as I sat next to him at the kitchen table. It was quieter than it normally was on a Saturday morning, and I realized it was because the radio he normally played in the mornings was turned off on the counter.

“No music?” I asked.

He shrugged, looking down at his plate. “I turned it off.”

Which was… okay. Fine, but his shoulders were a little tense. “What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing big. Just… Dad stuff. They were talking about the possibility of more charges coming his way. I dunno. It bummed me out to hear, so I just turned it off.”

Goddamn Andrew Taylor. I couldn’t wait for that asshole to be gone from our lives completely. He’d been arrested at the end of last year for tax fraud, money laundering, and a bunch of other shit, the biggest of which having been the misappropriation of funds he’d raised for charities. He hadn’t been jailed for long before he’d been out on bond. He’d been charged, but a case had to be built against him before a trial occurred. He’d initially refused to step down from his mayoral duties, but finally did so last month amid continued pressure from all sides. The deputy mayor had stepped in until a special election could be held, and Andrew Taylor had all but disappeared from public eye, no doubt holed up in one of his homes in Tucson.

Darren had escaped the brunt of it, given that he was the bastard child resulting from an affair that the mayor had had decades before. Most people didn’t know about him.

Vince hadn’t been so lucky. He’d been in the spotlight for a long while until their falling-out due to Vince refusing to remain in the closet as his father had demanded. Vince hadn’t cared about the publicity that came with being the son of a mayor of a midsized city. There’d been a few LGBTQ publications that had tried to reach out to Vince after he’d come out, but he’d turned them down, wanting to go to college and just live his life quietly.

But then Andrew Taylor had come back into our lives via a nonsensical plot out of an eighties movie involving Sandy, Darren, and Jack It that I still didn’t quite understand but had no desire to know more of. Granted, Vince hadn’t exactly seen his father face-to-face since the day of his mother’s funeral, but the media didn’t know that. In the weeks that had followed Andrew Taylor’s arrest, reporters had tried to get a comment from Vince, even going as far as to camp outside our house for a couple of days. Which, unfortunately, led to a front-page photo of me looking slightly crazy-eyed out my front door as I demanded they leave Vince alone. It didn’t help that they’d described me in the article as Vince’s “portly roommate.” That hadn’t been one of my finest moments. I’d written a letter to the editor saying that I was his portly lover, but it had never been published. When I’d told Vince about it, he’d laughed so hard he’d almost fallen down, which, in the end, was worth it completely.

But every now and then, Andrew Taylor would be held over us like he was right now. Vince was happy. I knew he was happy. But there were moments like this where I knew he couldn’t help but think what if? What if his father hadn’t been a homophobic asshole? (Though, I wasn’t so much convinced of that as I was that Andrew Taylor was a Republican tool who went with whatever thought would get him the most votes.) What if his father had been involved in his life? What if his father could stand with him at his wedding? What if, what if, what if?

“What did it say now?” I asked, treading carefully.

“Nothing new,” he said. “Not really. Just more stuff coming out about his supposed charities. It goes back further than they thought.”

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Think so. I’ve had time to get used to it. It’s just weird hearing something new every now and then.”

“Are we going to be stalked by paparazzi again?”

I saw the smile quirk on his lips. “Nah. Don’t think this rates up high enough to be stalked.”

“We’re getting married,” I said seriously. “Maybe we need to consider hiring security so the wedding isn’t crashed and then splashed all over the Tucson society pages. You know that everyone is going to be asking what I’m going to be wearing. I don’t want to see the disappointment when they hear it’s from the Spring 2016 JCPenney Big and Tall Collection.”

That got him. He grinned wide and beautiful at me. “You dork. You know as well as I do that Sandy would never allow you to wear anything from JCPenney.”

“He said it’s the physical embodiment of what he thinks drug addiction would look like. I still don’t quite understand what that means.”

“I don’t understand what a lot of you say,” he said. “But I figure if it’s important, you’ll explain it to me.”

And I said, “I got you, babe,” because my best friend was a drag queen, after all.

Vince didn’t get it. But that was okay.

He sat up straighter and dug in to his breakfast. “I feel better now,” he said through a mouthful of eggs.

“Obviously,” I said with a grimace.

“You figure out what Sandy is making you do tonight?”

I shook my head. “I expect it to be aggravating. And intoxicating. And probably a whole bunch of other –ing words. Concerning? Terrifying. What about you?”

“I think Darren was a little miffed when we said no strippers. But then I reminded him that I don’t like twinks like he does, so.”

“He better not still like twinks,” I said with a scowl.

“Not like that,” he said. “But aside from Sandy, you know his type. I think he wanted to go to Phoenix to go to Dick’s.”

“Gross. Both the going-to-Phoenix part and the going-to-a-gay-strip-club part. There is nothing attractive about getting a lap dance. Unless you want me to put that dong in my mouth, you have no business flopping it in my face.”

Vince looked amused. “You don’t mind my floppy dong in your face.”

“That’s because I put it in my mouth.”

“Right.”

“Besides, you’re a chubby chaser. You wouldn’t like those skinny little bitches anyway.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do like meat on them bones. More than a handful when I need it.”

“I don’t know whether I’m offended or turned on.”

“Second one. And I’m not a chubby chaser. I’m a Paul chaser.”

“Ow, my heart.”

“Just your heart?”

“Why are you sitting back in the chair and rubbing your hand across your chest?” I asked, voice high-pitched.

He shrugged, hand moving slowly down his chest to his stomach until his fingers rested just underneath the waistband of his shorts. “I’m wearing that jock strap you like,” he said lightly.

“The red one?” I squeaked.

“With the white straps.”

“Holy sweat balls,” I breathed. “I want to put my face on your face.”

He grinned wickedly. “You get to be the coach this time. I’m your star player who happens to get a leg cramp and needs you to help me work it out.”

“What sport?”

His face scrunched up as he thought. “Cricket.”

“Cricket? I don’t think anyone actually plays cricket—oh what the hell. Good game, Taylor. I see you scored the field goal touchdown thing with the sticky wicket.”

“Yeah, Coach. I did good. But ow! My leg hurts. It’s cramping.”

“So much thigh,” I whispered. “I mean, yeah. That’s terrible. Here, let me rub one out—er, rub off on you. Goddammit. Fuck this. I am going to eat out your ass while you’re bent over this table and still wearing the jock strap. You game?”

His shorts were already around his ankles and he was resting on his elbows on the table by the time I finished speaking.

“I’m going to do so many bad things to you,” I growled.

He grinned at me over his shoulder. “Bring it, Coach.”

“I AM not wearing this,” I snapped at Helena as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. We were in my room, Helena next to me with her hands on her hips, looking absolutely phenomenal in complete Jessica Rabbit mode—sparkling red dress with oversized breasts, waist cinched tight accentuating killer curves. Her makeup was flawless, lips large and pouty, red wig that hung down in a wave over her right eye. The purple gloves were dangling from the hanger on the door, the spike heels sitting on the floor next to her bed. She told me she was experimenting with makeup and style in case she decided to pursue the Miss Gay America pageant. She was already Miss Gay Tucson, having won that one in early February, and had a good lock on Miss Gay Arizona that would happen in a few months in the hellhole known as Phoenix. She didn’t talk much about it, but I knew she was weighing her options. Darren had told her he had her back either way, but I could see he was hoping she’d go through with it. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone look more proud of her when she’d won Miss Gay Tucson than him. I didn’t get to see Darren like she did. He was still cool and aloof, but there were moments when that Homo Jock King mask slipped and I saw the fierce loyalty he had for both Sandy and Helena. They bickered a little too much for my taste, but I trusted Darren with Sandy’s heart, even if I thought he was still a dick.

So Sandy looked wonderful. Corey did too: tight black slacks that showed off his slim figure, Salvatore Ferragamo dress shoes on his feet that’d been a gift from Sandy for his near 4.0 GPA last semester, and an olive dress shirt with the top few buttons opened up to his smooth chest. His hair was perfectly styled into a curly afro, the ringlets tight and colored lightly at the tips.

And there I stood, wearing a sparkly tiara with a sash around my chest that read CAUTION: BRIDE TO BE, bookended by pictures of a gigantic, veiny black cock.

“You’re not funny,” I said as I scowled at Helena.

“Darling,” Helena purred, “I am hysterical.”

“I’m not wearing this.”

She slunk closer, hips rolling. “Really? You know what I think?”

“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I care what you think right now.”

“Oooh,” Corey said, hands folded under his chin as his eyes flickered back and forth between us.

“I think,” Helena said, “that you will wear this and be happy about it. Because I made this for you with my bare hands. My gorgeous and perfectly manicured bare hands. Do you know how hard it was for me to get those beautiful penises onto that thing? Nana had to show me how to iron those things on.”

“You had my grandmother iron dicks onto my bachelor party sash,” I said, not even surprised anymore about the words that came out of my mouth.

“She volunteered her services,” Helena said. “And since she survived Vietnam, I figure this is the best way to honor her.”

“She wasn’t in Vietnam!”

“Yes, but she was alive during that time. Ergo, she survived it. Have a heart, Paul. Your own grandmother just wants you to wear the black cocks. How can you say no to that?”

“Oh my God,” I muttered.

“It’s amazing,” she agreed. “Now, we’ll pregame here—oh just listen to me talking like a homo jock, can you imagine—and by pregame, I mean two shots apiece, and then our ride will be here to take us to our next destination.”

“Which you won’t tell me a thing about.”

“Of course not,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“And you won’t tell me where Vince is.”

She leaned over and placed a sticky kiss on my cheek. “He’s in good hands, baby doll. You know I would never let Darren have anything… untoward happen to your fiancé. He knows what the consequences would be.”

“For what it’s worth, Paul,” Corey said. “I think you look cute.”

“Shut up, Corey,” I said. “Also, I really like your hair. It looks amazing.”

“Thank you!” he said, preening. “It feels a lot lighter now, and it works when I need to be Kori.”

I saw Helena’s gaze harden a little at that, and I’m sure mine did too. Whenever Corey was Kori, it was usually because she felt like it. Sometimes, though, we thought she slipped into Kori to protect herself from something that she didn’t want to talk about. We pushed, but barely, because she would clam up almost immediately. I wasn’t transgender, so I didn’t necessarily understand what being Kori meant to them. I think Sandy maybe got it a little better, given that she had a tendency to use Helena as a shield. But I didn’t think it was quite the same. Helena was a persona for Sandy. Corey was Kori was Corey. Being bigender was part of who they were, and I loved all their parts equally. All of us did, and anyone that gave them shit for anything would find a drag queen’s spiked heel up their urethra. This was 2016. There was absolutely no need for anyone to demean someone who was transgender. And if there were a need, if someone thought they could say something rude or transphobic, they would immediately find themselves on their back with a foot on their throats. You didn’t fuck with Corey. You didn’t fuck with Kori.

(They could take care of themselves, they liked to remind us, but it never hurt to have the queen of queens, the homo jocks, and an angry fat guy at your back. We might have been a motley crew, but we could fuck some shit up if needed. Eyes would be scratched out and shins kicked, that’s for damn sure.)

So there was a difference, at times, when she was Kori and needed to be Kori. I knew there were people who didn’t understand gender fluidity, that it almost sounded like Corey and Kori were crazy, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. And I didn’t think it had to do with body dysphoria, where they were uncomfortable being male or uncomfortable being female. They identified how they were, which is why it was fluid. I didn’t think they would want to transition, but even if that were the case, nothing would change.

We’d keep an eye on them. It might have just been something as simple as stress from school.

“It looks amazing no matter what,” Helena said. “Julio did an amazing job. You’re welcome for the recommendation.”

Corey rolled his eyes. “Bitch, please. I knew about him before you ever did.”

“That’s true,” Helena said. “But we’re going to pretend it’s not. We also need to convince Paul to go to him from now on too.”

“There is nothing wrong with my hair,” I said, running my fingers through it even as Helena batted my hands away to reset the tiara.

“You go to a place that charges ten dollars to cut your hair,” Helena said. “There is something wrong with your hair, even if we can’t see it.”

“Just because I don’t want to shell out sixty bucks to have my neck rubbed while I get a haircut doesn’t mean there’s something wrong. Why in God’s name would you spend that much money ever to have someone bad touch you while they also hold scissors?”

“We don’t have time for you to make points that nobody cares about,” Helena said. “We must pregame because our ride will be here shortly.”

“The limo you ordered,” I said dubiously. “Because for some reason, you think we need a limo.”

“Baby doll, we always need limos wherever we go. But since we’re comfortably entrenched in middle-class America, we don’t always get what we want. But tonight? Yes, we are taking a limo.”

“You didn’t have to rent one,” I told her. “I know those can be expensive.”

And I immediately knew something was up when she went shifty-eyed. “It… wasn’t as expensive as you might think.”

“You did something, didn’t you?” I accused her.

“Absolutely not,” she said.

“She did,” Corey said, standing up from the bed.

“Skank,” Helena hissed. “I will spank that pert little ass of yours, don’t think I won’t.”

“Oh, I believe you. You’ve done it to me before. You even made me count out loud, remember? And then we were partway through and realized I was far too into it, and we stopped immediately because you’re like my far older spinster of a sister.”

“A pox on all your houses,” Helena said, pushing me out of the way as apparently she needed to stand in front of the mirror to slide on her gloves. “Tell me I look beautiful.”

“You look beautiful,” Corey and I intoned dutifully.

“Thank you, baby dolls. I certainly do, don’t I? Paul? Have you reconsidered letting me officiate your wedding yet?”

“Not even in the slightest.”

“You cunt.”

“Not sorry at all.”

“I shan’t be attending.”

“Oh, you’ll be there.”

“Fuck your precious little face,” she snarled at me.

“You wish.”

“We have to do shots,” she demanded.

AND WE did.

We started with what had to be the most disgusting-looking shot, a Cum in the Hot Tub, which was vodka and rum, with a few drops of Bailey’s dropped into the liquor, looking like jizz spreading in water. I almost couldn’t make myself drink it until Helena reminded me that I sometimes swallowed with Vince and I should man the fuck up like the come-slut that I was. That certainly didn’t make it any easier, as I was sure the consistency was going to be… solid.

Thankfully, it wasn’t.

From there, it was a Cock-Sucking Cowboy.

Then a Sex with an Alligator, which is how I knew the night was probably going to get out of hand, because that shot had Jägermeister in it. Which, unfortunately, I didn’t find out until I’d already choked it down.

“Jager?” I said, my voice already a little louder than it should have been. “Helena, you know what happens when I have Jager. Are you out of your damn mind?”

“I have plans for you,” Helena purred, throwing back another shot. She could hold her liquor far better than I ever could. I was already feeling a little wobbly, and the night was just starting. I needed to make sure the limo driver knew to stop at Los Betos at some point so I could get a burrito the size of my face.

“What happens when Paul has Jager?” Corey asked.

“I start getting sexy,” I said solemnly. “It’s inevitable. When Jager goes into my body, Sexy Paul comes roaring out. There’s nothing that you can do to stop it. I’ve only had one shot of it, so we should be okay. But any more, and it’ll happen. So we should probably just stop now.”

“This is going to be the best night ever,” Corey whispered fervently.

Helena turned back around, another shot in her hands. “One more,” she said. “This one is called a Dirty Oatmeal. It’s made from Bailey’s. You’ll like it. My beautiful straight-boy bartender with amazing nipples, Izaac, recommended it to me.”

I eyed her suspiciously for a moment but then figured she had my back. She was my best friend, after all. She knew as well as I did that Sexy Paul had no place in the world. He was better off locked up within me, never to again be released.

I knocked back the shot. “Wow,” I said. “That was good. Bailey’s and… what else? It had a different taste to it.”

Helena leaned forward until her lips scraped against my ear, causing me to shiver. “One part Bailey’s,” she whispered. “And one part… Jager.”

I gasped as I pulled away. “You vile betrayer. Helena! You know what’ll be unleashed! We swore that we would never allow Sexy Paul to come back again. You know what happened last time!”

She pulled away, an evil grin on her face. “Oh, baby doll. I’m counting on it.”

I COULD already feel the sexy starting to break through as we left the house. I was doing my best to hold it back, but I found myself sliding on my mirrored sunglasses, even though it was already dark out. I knew, just like everyone else, that wearing sunglasses at night immediately made a person at least forty-two percent hotter than if they went without them. I tried to resist the need to wear them, and I only made it a few steps before I ripped them off and said, “No. I’m not gonna be that person. I just can’t.”

“He’s fighting it,” Helena told Corey. “You know how Bruce Banner fights the Hulk. It’s like that, only sexier.”

“I’m on board for this, let me tell you,” Corey said. “You don’t even need to worry about that. This whole train wreck? Sign me the fuck up.”

“Whatever,” I said, fighting the urge to flip my hair sexily. “It ain’t no thang. I don’t got no ish, a’ight?”

“Whoa,” Corey said. “That escalated rather quickly.”

“It’s beginning,” Helena said gleefully. “He still thinks he can repel the urge, but it’s already too late.”

I ignored them. “Where’s the ride?” I said, looking up and down the street. “I thought you said there’d be a kickass limo for us to—”

And that’s when I heard the unmistakable sound of “La Cucaracha.”

I turned slowly.

Rolling down the street was an abomination unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It was bone white, with rust on the rocker panels. There were streamers hanging from the tinted windows. I couldn’t see into the windshield given that the headlights were so bright.

“What,” I said, “in the fuck is that?”

“That, my dear boy,” Helena said, “is a 1988 Cadillac Super Stretch Limousine. It’s a classic.”

“I… don’t know what to do with that.”

“As you shouldn’t.”

“Where did you even find something like that to rent?”

“Oh, I didn’t find it.”

The limo stopped in front of my driveway.

I had a really bad feeling about this.

The driver’s door opened.

A figure stepped out, hunched over, wearing a large chauffeur’s hat, and a smart black blazer. The driver shuffled their way around the car, and I had to blink against the headlights, trying to make out who it was.

“Welcome,” the driver said, “to the 2016 Paul Auster’s Getting Married Fuck Yeah Super Bachelor Party!”

A window in the rear of the limo rolled down. “Language. We talked about that. Everything was fine except for the f-word. There is no need to say that. In fact, if you need to add another word, might I suggest the 2016 Paul Auster’s Getting Married Heck Yeah Super Bachelor Party?”

“Oh my fuck,” I said.

Nana tilted the chauffer’s hat back on her head and cackled.

“Didn’t I just say something about the f-word?” Dad asked, leaning his head out the window.

A second window rolled down next to the first, and Mom stuck her head out too. “Hush, dear. You know how he gets when he’s surprised. We should just let this one slide this time. And look at him. He’s wearing a tiara. If there was ever a time for someone to curse, it’s when you’re a man being forced to wear a tiara.”

“I didn’t curse when you forced me to wear a tiara.”

“I know,” she said. “But, to be fair, I didn’t force you to do anything. You wanted to wear it because you said that it made your eyes sparkle.”

“I did look very nice, didn’t I?” Dad said. “Okay, I’ll let it slide this one time. But make sure to keep it clean from here on out. My, that is a rather large penis on that sash you’re wearing, son. Impressive. I wonder why it is that African-American men often have large penises?”

“I suppose we could ask Corey,” Mom said, “but I think that might be racially insensitive and inappropriate, given that he’s technically our son and daughter.”

“It’s more often true than not,” Nana said. “You know how I always say once you go black, you never go back? That’s the reason.”

Corey fist-pounded Nana.

Helena posed as Jessica Rabbit in my driveway.

Mom and Dad waved at me.

“Oh my fuck,” I said again, sounding sexier than ever.

This was going to end in jail time and/or a choreographed dance down 4th Avenue.

I didn’t know which was worse.

I SAT in the limousine at one end. Mom, Dad, Helena, and Corey were all seated at the other end, staring at me. Nana was in the driver’s seat, the partition lowered. (“So I can make sure you don’t talk crap about me!”)

“Mom,” I said, “you look nice.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, smoothing down her dress. “It feels nice to dress up fancy every now and then.”

“Dad,” I said, “you look handsome.”

“Appreciate that, son,” Dad said, trying to fix his crooked tie. “S’not every day I put on a noose and go out.”

“Nana,” I said, “I don’t want to know where you got the limo, do I?”

“The Italians owed me a favor,” she said. “And no, I don’t mean the mafia.” Then, she whispered, “Or do I?”

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” I said, spreading my legs out in front of me, slouching down in my seat so I looked like a model. “What the balls is going on?”

They looked at Helena. “Did he forget it’s his bachelor party?” Mom asked, confused.

“No,” Helena said. “He absolutely knew it was the bachelor party tonight. We were pregaming.”

“He had Jager,” Corey said.

“Ah,” Mom said. “That explains the sunglasses he’s wearing even though it’s dark out.”

“I’m not wearing sunglasses—holy crap, I am. How did these get back on my face? I took them off!”

“Then you put them back on,” Helena reminded me. “And said that it was hard for any one of us to understand just how it was to be a sexy beast.”

“Sounds about right,” I said, aloof. “I know what I’m talking about.”

“Is this Sexy Paul?” Corey asked.

“Close,” Dad said. “He’s getting there. You’ll know when it hits. How much did he have?”

“Two shots,” Corey said.

“Except that I might have made them doubles,” Helena said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “Oops.”

“Then we’ve got about ten more minutes,” Dad said. “Believe me, you’ll see it happen.”

“I let the beat drop,” I agreed. “Now. What are you all doing here?”

“We want to celebrate with you,” Mom said. “It’s not every day our son has a bachelor party.”

“And it will probably be the only one you have,” Dad said. “Unless for some reason you and Vince get divorced down the road and you attempt to counteract your middle-aged doldrums by bringing home a much younger trophy husband. Then you might get to have a second one. But in case that doesn’t happen, we wanted to be here for it.”

“I’m the trophy husband,” I said. “Guys see me, and they’re all like, daaaaamn. Gotta get me some of that.”

“Oh boy,” Helena said.

“I’m a cold-hearted snake,” I said.

“Did he just quote Paula Abdul?” Corey whispered.

“Just go with it,” Helena said. “It makes things easier.”

“I’m going to send sexy texts to my fiancé,” I announced, pulling out my phone. “No one look at me.”

They all diverted their gazes when I glared at them. Granted, they couldn’t see my glare, but they got the idea.

I was feeling amazing. The screen was a little blurry, but that was okay. I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I was going to get him so riled up that he’d want to destroy me later. It took me three minutes to send the sexiest text I could think of.

Hey

It was perfect. It showed how cool I was, but didn’t give away the goods. It was like fishing, I knew. Just had to cast the line and wait for a nibble.

Which I got almost immediately.

Vince: hi! dare sez can’t use fone for long

Me: That’s okay. I wanted to tell you something

Vince: wut?

Me: I want to suck your duck

Vince: WUT

Me: Damn autocorrect

Me: Suck your duck

Me: Your penmanship

Me: Your cock-eyed giblets

Me: I WANT LICK YOUR ASSISTANT

Vince: wut is happening

Me: I had jager. I’m sexy

Vince: already??!?!

Me: Helena made me. What are you wearing?

Vince: ohhhhh. i get it. u wanna sext?

Me: Yes. But keep it clean. Mom and Dad are here

Me: And Nana. In a murder limo

Me: I still don’t understand

Me: I’m wearing sunglasses at night

Me: You know what jager does to me

Vince: i do. its hot. ur hot

Me: I know. You go first

Vince: ok

Vince: clean sext

Vince. i lean over and shake your hand.

Me: Yeah

Vince: i got a good grip

Me: You do.

Vince: it’s a good handshake

Me: It’s like a business handshake. But sexier.

Vince: i lean over and say

Vince: it’s nice to meet u

Vince: then I kiss ur cheek

Me: So hot

Vince: ok ok, you do me

Me: VINCE! I SAID KEEP IT CLEAN! MY MOM MIGHT HEAR

Vince: no. i meant its ur turn to clean sext me

Vince: wait

Vince: how can mom hear if its text??????

Me: I’m reading them out loud

“Oh my God,” Corey moaned. “I have never been more happy to be alive than I am right at this moment.”

“You can tell the sexy is coming by the way he’s got that Elvis curl to his lip,” Mom said. “It’s adorable.”

“Is that what that is?” Dad said, squinting at me. “I thought he was trying to keep himself from sneezing. I suppose that can be sexy, if you like that kind of thing.”

Me: I tell you I like your hair

Vince: yeah? do it. give me compliments so hard

Me: I like your hair

Vince: keep going

Me: And the way you make French toast

Vince: 1 tbspn vanilla bean paste. i rock that shit

Me: You put whip cream on it

Vince: and strawberries. And maple syrup.

Me: Side of hash browns.

Vince: maybe a sausage link or two

“Um,” Corey said. “What.”

Me: I pour you your coffee

Vince: in that mug i like????

Me: Yeah

Vince: do u make it how i like it?

Me: All the sugar. And the cream.

Vince: u make me that coffee so good

Me: Yeah, I know how you want it

Vince: u hand it to me

Vince: i take a sip

Me: Is it warm?

Vince: so warm.

“Annnnnd that’s enough of that,” Helena said, snatching the phone out of my hands.

“Hey!” I growled at her, voice sensual and extraordinarily stimulating. I took off my sunglasses in slow motion. “I was using that.”

“You were describing breakfast,” Corey said, confused. “And I was still slightly turned on.”

Helena tapped some buttons on the phone. “You can talk to him later,” she said when she’d finished, shoving my phone into her fake cleavage. “You need to focus on the plan at hand.”

“Which is?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing. Hey. Corey.”

“Yeah?”

I winked at him. “Looking good, boy. If I wasn’t about to get married and you weren’t like a brother to me, I’d probably tell you that I wanted to put my face on your face.”

“Please tell me there’s more Jager,” Corey said, not looking away from me.

“So much more Jager,” Helena promised. She lifted a panel next to her that revealed a minibar with a familiar green bottle.

“It’s coming,” Dad said. “You can see it starting to spill over. It’s in the way he’s slinking lower in his seat.”

“That’s how sexy people sit,” Mom said. “I could never pull it off.”

“I’m doing it right now,” Nana said. “I can barely see over the steering wheel.”

“Paul, you should drink this,” Helena said, handing me a shot glass.

“Is that my sex juice?” I demanded.

“It is,” Helena said. “After this, it’s water for a while.”

“Bitches be tripping all up on me,” I said. I threw the shot back. “It’s how I do.”

“Remember when he was four years old and would sit in front of the TV watching Miami Vice and gnaw on a block of cheese?” Mom asked Dad.

“We did good,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

IT WASN’T long before the limo came to a stop. Given that I was still wearing my sunglasses and the windows were tinted, I couldn’t see where we were. Helena wouldn’t let me out yet, saying that Corey would run in and make sure things were ready. I was a little bitter at that because I could feel Sexy Paul thrumming just underneath the surface, ready to break free and assume control. I had unbuttoned my shirt so it showed off my chest, briefly lamenting my lack of chest hair.

“It’s your fault,” I told Dad seriously. “You and your genetics.”

“What’s that now?” Dad asked.

“Chest hair. I’m trying to be Don Johnson, but I’m more like Cate Blanchett with my moobs and my paleness and my no chest hair. Damn you.”

“My bad,” Dad said.

“Like a pink hairless rat,” Mom said. “The both of you.”

“You’re sexy without it,” Helena said. “Trust me on that.”

“Damn right I am. Can I have my phone? I need to tell Vince something. Not something sexy. Or about breakfast.”

“What do you need to tell him?”

Sexy Paul cracked through. “Listen here, queen. You do me this solid, and I’ll make it up to you real nice.”

“Don’t you flirt in my direction, Paul Auster,” she growled. “That kind of power should not be wielded so lightly.”

I lowered the sunglasses on my nose so I could peer over them. I winked at her and licked my lips.

“Is he having a seizure?” Nana asked. “Because my limo insurance doesn’t cover that. My limo insurance doesn’t cover a lot of things. I actually don’t have limo insurance. This isn’t my limo.”

“I am a queen,” Helena hissed. “You think I haven’t been faced with Sexy Paul before? Child, please. I made Sexy Paul. I can unmake him just as quickly.”

Before I could turn up the heat, Corey opened the door again and leaned his head in. “It’s ready.”

Mom and Dad got out first. Helena started to follow, but I grabbed her wrist. “It’s happening,” I gasped. “I can’t fight it anymore. Sexy Paul is about to take over. You can’t let me do anything stupid. You know how I get.”

“I got you, baby doll,” she said.

I got out behind her, unable to resist smacking her ass.

I had entered the limo as Paul Auster, insurance claims adjuster, fiancé of Vince Taylor.

I exited as a sex machine.

I pulled myself to my full height. Everyone standing around me got the most lethal weapon in my sexy arsenal: finger guns while I bit my bottom lip, sucking it between my teeth. Mom and Dad were grinning at me. Corey was eyeing me as if he’d never seen me before (and probably thinking about how he wanted to tap that). Helena was rolling her eyes, and Nana was shedding her hat and jacket, wearing a purple muumuu underneath that had mine and Vince’s faces ironed onto it.

I cocked the tiara at an angle on my head so people would know who they were dealing with now.

I looked up to see where we were and was surprised to find the entrance to Jack It in front of us.

Charlie stood by the front door. He was dressed in a pair of leather pants and a leather vest, his boots newly shined. His arms still looked strong as he crossed them over his chest, and he was intimidating as all fuck. He held a slim piece of black material in his hand.

“Daddy,” I said, slinking in his direction. I thought he was trying to fight off a smile, and it looked like he was losing badly.

“Boy,” he said. “Jager?”

“So much,” I agreed. “I’m not even trying to fight it anymore. Just gonna let it happen. It is happening.”

“You need to put this on,” he said, holding up the little black slip. It was an eye mask, the elastic band swaying in the breeze. “And no peeking. God help you if you peek.”

“Kinky,” I said. “Are you going to spank me?”

“Do I need to?” he asked me, cocking an eyebrow.

“Sexy Paul doesn’t have time for spanking,” I said, words a little slurred. “He’s gotta go in and meet his adoring public. Maybe later after he gets done doing the Macarena. You know, like all the sexy people do.”

“Third person,” Corey breathed behind me. “It’s real. It’s happening and it’s all real.”

“Yep,” Helena said. “We’re in full Sexy Paul mode now. Sexy Paul, put on the blindfold. Don’t you sass me now, you hear?”

“My sunglasses stay on.”

“Take them off.”

“Helena.”

“Paul, I will fucking cut you if you don’t take these things off right this minute.”

“Eep,” I said, because even Sexy Paul knew not to fuck with a drag queen when she started to get snarly.

I took off my glasses and threw them down the street. They landed near a cracked-out-looking homeless man pushing a shopping cart. He bent down, picked them up, and crowed, “All right! Sunglasses coming down from the sky! Everything’s coming up Dave!” He put them on and started whistling as he pushed his cart down the sidewalk.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I got them at the dollar store. Ironically, they were two dollars.”

Helena snagged the blindfold from Daddy before I could react and slipped it over my eyes. “I already know where we are,” I said as she snapped the band around the back of my head. “I don’t know why you’re trying to keep it a secret now.”

“Oh wow,” Helena said. “Thanks for pointing that out. I didn’t even realize. Shut up.”

“I’m too sexy for my shirt,” I told her.

“I have no one but myself to blame for that, either,” she said. “Now, you stay right here with Charlie until he tells you otherwise, understand?”

“I might get mauled,” I said. “People walking by, wanting to tap dat ass. You better hurry.” I gave a little shake of dat ass, just to stress my point. I almost fell down.

“Oh now,” Helena said. “I’m so worried about you getting dat ass tapped. I should run as fast as I can.”

“I’ll hold them off,” Daddy said.

I heard the door to Jack It opening. Normally, the thumpthumpthump of bass and the shouts of people inside would pour out. But it was quiet, which was odd, given that it was a Saturday. Maybe Helena needed to do a show before we went somewhere else?

“I was sexting Vince,” I told Charlie, even if I couldn’t see him. “We were talking about French toast until Helena took my phone away.”

“I don’t know what that says about me that I understood what you just said. Mostly.”

“Backstreet’s back, all right,” I said.

“All right.”

“I couldn’t sext sexy because Mom and Dad were there and I was narrating.”

“Uh-huh.”

Then I heard a beep.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Paul.”

“Was that your video camera?”

“Yes, Paul.”

“You’re recording me?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Should I pose?”

“If you must.”

“I can do lunges. Everyone thinks lunges are sexy.”

“Please do. And then we can play this at the wedding.”

“Best. Idea. Ever.” But before I could start doing lunges, I heard the door open again and whispers going back and forth.

Then, “No time for lunges, boy. We’ve got to get you inside.”

I felt his hand grip mine, tugging me along. He moved slowly, making sure I didn’t trip over anything. The door closed behind us, and it was still quiet, more so than I’d ever heard it before. There was always noise inside Jack It, no matter what time it was.

“Are you taking me to a sacrificial orgy?” I hissed at Charlie. “You know I don’t do well in group-sex situations. I don’t like having more than one penis in front of me. I’m not ambidextrous, and I would hate trying to use my mouth on one and my hands on others. It’s like being told to pat your head with one hand and trying to rub your stomach with the other. It’s not possible!”

I thought I heard muffled snorts of laughter around me, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Do you really think I’d be taking you to an orgy?” Charlie asked, sounding long-suffering.

“I don’t know,” I said. “You’re dating someone now. I don’t know what freaky shit you’re into. You’ve changed, Charlie. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Your parents are here. And Nana. I don’t think we’re going to an orgy.”

“Ohh,” I said. “Right. Also, I’m getting married. I don’t think Vince would like me patting a penis and rubbing another one on my stomach. No matter how sexy I am. Can I borrow your phone? I forgot to tell Vince how I’d make his eggs. He needs to know just how sunny-side up they can be when I got done with them.”

“Later,” Charlie said. “Trust me, I’m sure you’ll get to tell him that later. And if you could, do me a favor and make sure I’m nowhere near either of you when you tell him. I feel like I don’t want to hear anything having to do with your apparent domestication kink ever again. Take a step here.”

I felt him pull me up. I almost stumbled, but was able to catch myself when I took the step. I was turned around, unsure of where we were in the club. We weren’t in the Lair. Maybe we were out on the back patio where we’d—

Helena spoke from right next to me. She said, “Three. Two. One.”

The blindfold was ripped off of me.

The world exploded in color as strobe lights flashed.

The large crowd of people in front of us screamed.

I screamed along with them because I was unsure of what was going on and was convinced I was about to get attacked by a mob.

The people stopped screaming.

I kept on screaming.

Eventually, it died down, the sounds of my voice echoing around the main dance floor of Jack It.

Helena was staring at me in horror.

“What the fuck was that?” she growled at me.

I sniffed delicately. “I was just practicing for my role as a plucky sorority girl who finds herself embroiled in the snare of a psychopathic killer who likes to hit people in the back of the head with a sledgehammer. Ask me what it’s called.”

And because she couldn’t not, Helena asked, “What’s it called?” even as I could tell she was hating herself for playing along.

“Donkey Punch,” I said promptly. Then, “Hey, I know most of the people here.”

And I did. There were coworkers, family members, friends, people from the bar, homo jocks, the furries I’d randomly made friends with before Vince when I wondered if I’d wanted to dress as a wolf and have sex with a man dressed as a tiger (spoiler: I didn’t), the motorcycle club known as the Dairy Queens, the lesbian book club called the Rug Punchers I’d accidentally joined and proceeded to read really terrible Virginia Woolf poetry, some of Sandy/Helena’s previous one-night stands, a cadre of twinks I was sure Darren had plowed through, and Mike, the owner of Jack It, standing near the bar, looking as oily as usual, his comb-over doing nothing to hide the fact that he’d been thrust into middle age kicking and screaming, but for some reason, still managed to jerk off twenty-year-olds in the back room who thought it was part of the go-go boy auditions.

“Whoa,” I said as I immediately posed because I was too legit to quit. “Hey guys. Sexy Paul is here. You’re welcome.”

People cheered at that. Of course they did. I was amazing.

“Jesus Christ,” Helena muttered. “I did this.” But then she put on her Queen’s smile, painted lips stretched wide, baring her teeth. She brought her bedazzled microphone up to her lips. “Hello, boys and girls. I hope today finds you having done something… naughty.”

The crowd screamed in response.

I struck another pose, because Jager was my best friend.

“We’re here,” Helena continued, “because we are celebrating the unholy matrimony between two very important men in my life. You see, once upon a time, in this very room, the sweetest boy in all the world stood right up there in that balcony where Charlie and Corey are and looked down to see the homo jock of his dreams. Charlie, dearest, do you remember that day?”

The crowd turned to look up at Daddy and Corey.

“I do,” Daddy said into his own mic. “And if I recall correctly, Paul thought Vince was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Which meant he wasn’t going to do anything about it at all.”

“That’s right,” Helena said. “I remember that. And didn’t the homo jock have a shot sent up to Paul, one which Paul promptly drank and then spit over the balcony onto said homo jock?”

The crowd laughed.

I did some lunges, my hands on my hips.

“He did,” Charlie said, sounding amused. “And that could have been the end of it, since Paul didn’t have any idea as to what he was worth.”

“We all knew, though, didn’t we?” Helena asked.

The crowd roared in response, even though I was sure at least half of them had no idea what Helena and Charlie were talking about.

“We knew,” Charlie said. “And then Paul had to go and hit him with his car—”

“That wasn’t my fault!” I shouted up at him. “Everyone knows you can’t just ride a bike into an open car door, what the fuck—”

“And then Paul took him to the hospital, got him drugged up, took him home, and never let him leave,” Helena finished with a flourish. “It’s the gay love story of the ages. Boy meets boy, boy hits boy with his car, boy and boy get married.”

I grabbed the mic in Helena’s hand and brought it to my mouth. “I’d just like to say that none of this is true.” I frowned. “Okay, wait. I suppose most of it is true. Dammit.”

Helena jerked the mic away from me and covered it with her hand to muffle the sound. “You know better than to touch a queen’s mic,” she hissed at me. “Try that again and I’ll chop off your hand, you understand me?”

“Bitches be trippin’,” I said.

She turned back to the crowd. “We’re here to rejoice in the love of Paul Auster and Vince Taylor who, by this time next week, will have followed in the footsteps of many a heterosexual who deemed it their right, but who also forced the homos to get the Supreme Court to make the decision that we were equally able to be just as miserable as the straight people. Paul and Vince are to be married and we are here to celebrate the fuck out of them.”

And maybe I forgot to pose for a few moments because I was too busy trying to keep myself from getting choked up. Once the crowd’s cheers had died down again, Helena got a wicked smile on her face that I didn’t like. It wasn’t her come-hither smile. It wasn’t her I’m-better-than-you smile.

No, this smile was devious.

It was calculating.

It was evil.

It was her I did something bad and I don’t give a fuck smile.

Which, nine times out of ten, meant that something was about to happen that I wouldn’t like.

(The tenth time being, of course, something I did like, which was when we’d found out that Chris Evans had been in Phoenix filming a movie six years ago and we’d accidentally broken into the set to see if we could find his trailer as Sandy was convinced that Mr. Evans was on the down low and only needed to see Sandy spread out like a “love buffet of love” before he would ravish him with his disco stick. Suffice it to say, we were chased by security guards even before we’d started to scale the chain link fence. I’d never run as fast or as long in my life (at least three minutes of full-on jogging). We managed to escape, only to find out later that Mr. Evans was in another state right at that moment, but by then, Sandy had decided his celebrity crush was Gerard Butler (“He makes such terrible movies, and all I want to do is fix him!”) and so Mr. Evans was forgotten. It was one of those precious moments that I realized that no one would ever get me like Sandy would.)

But this time, here, in front of our friends and family (and furries), while I was hopped up on sexy juice, I knew Helena Handbasket was up to something I wasn’t going to like. This wasn’t breaking and entering to stalk a celebrity.

“As you can see, Paul’s feeling good,” she said.

And because I was drunk on Jager, I shouted, “I like the way I work it, no diggity, but you can’t bag it up.”

“Exactly,” Helena said. “And what is one thing a bachelor party always needs?”

The laser lights began to drop lower.

Helena whispered, “Entertainment of the… male variety.”

The crowd screamed their approval.

I stared at her in horror. “You know we said no strippers!”

She ignored me. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls… Paul’s parents and grandmother—which, honestly, I might not have thought this one through as much as I should have.”

“We should probably cover our eyes,” Mom said to Dad, who immediately buried his face in his hands.

“You better not be talking to me!” Nana said, eyes narrowing. “I didn’t survive the sixties and make it to being elderly only to be told that I can’t watch someone decades younger than me shaking their groove thang. Do you know what happened in the sixties? Hippies. Hippies happened in the sixties. I don’t think anyone took a shower that whole decade.”

I took a step toward Helena, getting ready to put an end to this charade. I didn’t want strippers, even if I was in the mindset that I could absolutely outdance any of them right at this moment.

But she saw me coming.

And then her plan was revealed.

“Darren! Bring out the sacrifice!”

Darren Mayne burst through the curtains behind the stage where the drag queens normally came from. He was dragging Vince behind him, who wore a blindfold that was similar to the one I’d had, and a large set of what looked to be noise-canceling headphones. A bar back followed them, carrying a chair.

“Where are we going?” Vince asked Darren as he was pulled onto the stage, unaware of everyone in the room. “Are we getting tacos? Because it smells like tacos in here. Bro, that’s awesome.”

The bar back put the seat in the middle of the stage, next to where I stood. He winked at me, some twinkie little thing that looked like he should be at home playing with My Little Ponies rather than being shirtless in a gay bar.

“Well I never,” I said with a sniff, my hand at my throat.

Darren pushed Vince into the seat, kicking his legs open until he sat spread-eagle in the chair.

And suddenly I knew where this was going.

“Oh sweat balls,” I breathed.

Darren knocked off the headphones and ripped the blindfold off Vince. He blinked, frowning as he looked around until his eyes fell upon me. The smile he gave was blinding. “Hey, Paul,” he said easily. “Man, today’s been weird, right? I didn’t think I’d get to see you tonight, but I’m so happy I did. I love you, you know?”

“I’m sorry for what’s about to happen,” I told him solemnly as Darren leaned over and kissed Helena on the cheek before he stepped off the stage. “I hope you can still look at me tomorrow.”

He squinted up at me. “What’s about to happen?”

“DJ!” Helena barked into the mic. “Drop that beat!”

And through the speakers came the familiar thump of bass from a song that no one on this earth had ever been able to resist.

Many had tried.

All had failed.

And as it rolled through my body, Sexy Paul burst forward and took over.

IN 2004, the world changed forever.

The United States lifted a 1981 travel ban upon Libya.

Google released Gmail.

Massachusetts legalizes same-sex marriage in compliance with a ruling from the state’s Supreme Judicial Court.

Scientists in South Korea announced the cloning of thirty human embryos.

Preliminary hearings began in Iraq against former president Saddam Hussein.

The Greek national football team won the 2004 UEFA European Championship in Portugal.

Explorers reached the bottom of Krubera Cave, the world’s deepest cave.

George W. Bush was re-elected, narrowly beating John Kerry.

But all of this pales in comparison to January 13, 2004.

It was a Tuesday.

I was nineteen years old.

I remember where I was when I first heard it.

The library at the University of Arizona, studying for a test for a class that led to a degree that would ultimately become pointless as I would one day have my soul trapped in a cubicle at an insurance company whose commercials would forever ruin lizards and cavemen.

Sandy was next to me, wearing a suit jacket with a pair of jeans.

(Don’t ask. 2004 was a very strange time.)

He had a boom box set up on the table next to us.

(Don’t ask. 2004 was a very strange time.)

The radio was on a pop station, playing shitty music that Sandy liked.

“I don’t want to study for this fucking test,” I growled, glaring down at the open book in front of me.

Sandy was on his Motorola RAZR flip phone, the latest high-tech gadget that I wouldn’t ever understand. Apparently, somehow, you could even get on the Internet with it, which I thought was ridiculous. I was sure that would never catch on, because most people spent their days on a computer. Why on earth would you need a cell phone that did that too? “Then don’t,” Sandy said, sounding bored. He frowned as he typed out another message to some guy he was probably blowing, or thinking about blowing, or wanted to blow. I, on the other hand, did not have anyone to blow and decided that it was better that way, as I was going to wait for my one true love. “It’s 2004, Paul. We’re young and cool and we have all the time in the world. Twelve years from now, we’ll probably be old and boring with nothing going on in our lives, and you can study then.”

He had a point. In twelve years, I was probably going to have abs and ride a hoverboard everywhere I went, and so I thought it was probably a good idea for me to make the most of my youth. I closed my textbook with a grim finality, not caring about a librarian who glared at me as it echoed loudly in the quiet.

“What should we do, then?” I asked.

Sandy shrugged. “We could always—”

And then it happened.

From the radio, came a song I’d never heard before.

It hit my ears and burst down into my very bones.

I gasped as I felt myself twitch, like I was… like I was trying to dance.

“What sorcery is this?” I whispered as my shoulders began to sway.

Sandy was gaping at me. “What’s happening to you?”

“I don’t know!” I said, pushing myself up to my feet, the chair falling down behind me. It tipped over and crashed onto the floor. The librarian stood up, bringing her finger to her lips and shushing me loudly.

But it was like I had been taken over by some force I couldn’t fight. I knew I could be thrown out of the library, that the librarian had the power to have me banished. But for the life of me, I couldn’t find a single reason to care. All I wanted to do was dance.

And so I did.

Kind of.

“Are you having a seizure?” Sandy demanded as I gyrated my hips, bringing my hands up and rubbing them over my chest and stomach.

“No,” I panted, already sweating. “It’s… it’s this song.”

Sandy blinked at me. He looked at the boom box. Then back at me. Then back at the boom box.

And then he smiled evilly.

“No,” I begged. “Please. Don’t do it. Sandy, don’t do it.”

He turned up the volume until it was blasting.

And I danced.

I shook my ass like I’d never shaken it before.

The librarian came over, telling us we needed to leave.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her close, her back against my chest. I swayed my hips, and even she couldn’t fight against it. “Oh my,” she said as I dipped us both low. “This is highly inappropriate.”

“I know,” I said. “But it can’t be stopped.”

And as the song went on, I got friskier with Helga, the sixty-three-year-old librarian who had worked for the University of Arizona for thirty-one years.

By the time it had ended, a large crowd had gathered around us. They clapped once the spell had broken. I looked around, unsure of what the hell had just happened.

Helga was standing in front of me, face flushed. She eyed me up and down. “I know a motel that rents by the hour,” she said, licking her lips. “Just as long as you don’t tell my husband, Merle.”

“What the balls?” I screeched. “Sandy! What’s going on? What happened? What was that?”

Sandy was staring at me with something akin to awe. “Apparently, we’ve found your gay anthem.”

“My what?”

“Your gay anthem. Every guy has one, straight or gay, whether they admit it or not. That one song you hear, that when it starts playing, you have to move like a goddamn diva. I always thought we’d never find yours. I mean, you’re almost twenty now. I just….” He wiped his eyes. “I never thought I’d get to see the day when you flame out like the Human Torch. This will become your greatest weakness. Anytime it’s played, you will be unable to do anything but dance to it. It’s… the way of things.”

“I don’t… I don’t remember much,” I admitted, still dazed. “What was it? What was the song?”

On January 13th, 2004, I finally found my gay anthem. It was the first day the song had been released. It came from a blonde girl born in Mississippi, one who I had paid only marginal attention to in the years since she’d come out. I knew of her, but I didn’t know that she was capable of casting a spell over me and making my body turn into a dancing sex machine. I had woken up that morning not giving a crap about her, but everything changed on that Tuesday when the song was released, the second single from her fourth album In The Zone. And when Sandy spoke again, he said only three words that would be burned forever into every single gay bone in my body.

“Britney Spears,” he said. “‘Toxic’.”

“OH NO,” I breathed as the familiar song started playing from the speakers of Jack It, but it was already far too late as Sexy Paul took control, growling as I began to prowl the stage in front of Vince.

“What’s happening?” Vince asked, swallowing thickly as he watched me move in front of him. “Helena, what’s he doing?”

Helena chuckled into the microphone as she moved off stage. “Oh, baby doll. Consider this my wedding present to you. I hope you’re ready to see a side of your husband-to-be you’ve never seen before. You’re welcome.” And then she melted into the crowd.

Not that I was paying any real attention to her.

No. I was stalking my prey, who sat so prettily before me.

“Paul?” Vince asked, sounding a little worried. “Is everything—holy fucking shit!”

I had dropped to my knees in front of him between his spread legs, hands rubbing against his thighs, my face in his stomach near his crotch as I pushed myself forward and up. I let him anchor me as I rose, my chest pressing against his, lips trailing along the skin of his neck up to his jaw and left ear.

“What are you doing?” he squeaked at me, pupils dilated in the flashing strobe light. “Are you giving me a lap dance?”

Sexy Paul didn’t have time for talking when he was fully involved in the art of seduction. Sexy Paul didn’t need words. All Sexy Paul needed was his dance moves. And there was a small, small part of me that knew the extent to which Sandy had planned all this, from the Jager to the Britney, that he’d known what the inevitable outcome would be. That small part of me made a mental note to plot an elaborate revenge against him involving fake identities and extravagant mustaches, but that part was shoved away when I felt Vince’s hands on my hips.

The music hit again and I twisted myself around until I was seated in his lap, lying against his chest, rotating my hips, trying to remember every single stripper move I’d ever learned from Paula Abdul’s Get Up and Dance exercise VHS tape that Sandy and I had tried when we were fifteen years old. I’d told myself when I was huffing and puffing my way through it that one day, I’d probably have to use what I’d learned one day. And my time had finally come. I knew Paula would be proud, wherever she was.

I heard Vince grunting underneath me and I knew him better than anyone, so I knew it wasn’t the get off, you’re squishing me grunt, but instead, was the you’re squishing my dick and I want to get off so bad grunt.

Sexy Paul had struck again.

The song was only halfway over.

I pushed off him, standing and ignoring the sounds of the crowd hyperventilating around us. I considered throwing in some Flashdance to mix with my Paula Abdul but didn’t think I was ready for that just yet. I thought I could be one day, but that day was not today. And since I didn’t have a bucket of water to drop on my chest as I threw my head back, I decided to stick with what I knew.

I turned back around to Vince as I swiveled my hips, reaching up and tearing the tiara off my head, throwing it to the side. It smashed against the wall and sounded like it broke. I heard Helena screech in outrage, but I didn’t give a shit. I had a mission.

I ripped the sash up and over my head and thrust it between my legs, reaching behind me with my other hand to grab the edge. And then I proceeded to do one of the most erotic dances of all time: Flossing. I pulled the sash back and forth between my legs like I was trying to get a particularly stubborn piece of food out from between my teeth. I sneered at Vince who looked like he was two point six seconds away from launching himself at me and ravishing me right there in front of anyone.

The next dance move was the Lassoing a Steer, another thing I’d learned from Paula Abdul. I took the sash and began to twirl it above my head like it was a lasso, hopping from one foot to another bow-legged, like I was riding a horse in a competitive rodeo, needing to rope the calf as quickly as possible.

Vince spread his legs a little wider and I threw the sash at him where it landed perfectly around his neck, capturing my side of beef in record time. If this had been a real rodeo, I would have won the biggest belt buckle known to mankind. I figured it was okay for me to settle with the prized bull that was flaring his nostrils in front of me, his hands fisted on his thighs, chest heaving.

I jerked my end of the sash tight, pulling him up from the back of the chair until his face was in my chest. Holding on to make sure he stayed in place, I used my other hand to pop open the top few buttons of my shirt, my fingers poking against his face. Probably not the sexiest of moves, but I didn’t hear him complaining when I felt his hot breath against my skin. I let him take a few deep breaths, his nose pressed against my sweaty chest, before I pushed him back against the chair, letting the sash fall against him.

I ignored the people in the audience who had started to make it rain, dollar bills being thrown onto the stage around me. Sandy had taught me that when money was thrown, the best thing to do was to wait until the performance was over before picking it up. Otherwise, you’d just look money hungry and trashy.

And I, obviously, was anything but money hungry.

Maybe a little trashy, but I could totally roll with that.

Sexy Paul didn’t care.

I brought my hands up and folded them up behind my head, thrusting my hips at Vince, whose eyes were directly eye level with my crotch. He licked his lips and didn’t look away. I leaned forward and gripped his chin, forcing his gaze up to mine. “My eyes are up here, sailor,” I growled, throwing his words back at him that he’d used on me so very long ago that first day at the bike rack outside the office.

His pupils were completely blown out now, and he leaned forward, trying to kiss me, but I was a working girl; I didn’t have time to kiss him right then. I shoved his face away. I didn’t care if he could take me away from this life and protect me and my young daughter from my abusive ex-husband who we were on the run from, because I couldn’t run the risk of giving my heart away again, only to have it shattered in a billion pieces—

Whoa.

I shook my head violently, trying to get rid of the elaborate fantasy where I was a mother named Denise Smith who danced under the name Gigi Fontaine. I had already constructed an elaborate backstory and literally only four seconds had passed. I just had to Paula Abdul the crap out of the finish to this lap dance before worrying about the bad Lifetime Movie of the Week fantasy I had going on in my head.

(I would be played by Delta Burke. It would be glorious. There would be pantsuits. And shoulder pads.)

The song was coming to a close and I had a decision to make. I could go out on top. I could end this good.

Or I could end it amazingly.

It wasn’t that hard of a decision.

I didn’t think my pants were too tight. I could pull this off without embarrassing myself.

While Britney shrieked her sexy siren call about how she loved what I did because I had to know I was toxic, I did the one thing a man of my size should not be able to do.

I dropped into the splits, sinking down until my crotch touched the floor, my face right between Vince’s legs.

The crowd exploded behind me as the song ended.

Vince looked down at me, jaw dropping, eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them.

I said, “You liked that, didn’t you,” in a husky voice.

He nodded slowly.

“You’re such a bad boy,” I said.

He nodded again.

“You want to do things to me right now, don’t you. Sexy things.”

He nodded a third time.

“Well, then,” I said, licking my lips.

He leaned forward.

I grabbed him by the sash and held on tight, pulling him down until my lips were near his ear. And then I said what had to be the most erotic thing in my life.

“If you ever want to suck on my balls again, you’ll help me up right now, Jesus fucking Christ, I think they’re about to break. Seriously. I think I’m stuck. Vince, I think I’m stuck.”

Have you ever done the splits trying to be a stripper named Gigi Fontaine while dancing to Britney with moves you learned from a Paula Abdul exercise VHS tape in the nineties after having four shots of Jager?

Me too.

Then you’ll know how hard it is to get back up, trying to make it look natural.

But somehow, I was able to do it.

With Vince’s help, of course.

And then he dragged me off the stage and for the last time as an unmarried man, I got a sloppy blowjob in the men’s room of Jack It from Vince as he jacked his cock while on his knees. He came on the floor. I came on his face.

It was the most romantic moment of my life.

Chapter Six: The Heart of the Homo Jock King

March 25, 2016

T-Minus 1 Day

I GLARED at Sandy, Darren, and Corey as they stood outside our house. I refused to let them in, even as Vince was chuckling behind me. I could deal with him later.

Wheels, probably knowing how annoyed his owner was, rolled up next to me and growled at the three of them.

“You’re not taking him away,” I growled. “Now get off my lawn before I use my right as an American citizen to shoot you in the kneecap.”

“You don’t have a gun,” Sandy said, rolling his eyes.

“Vince bought a nail gun,” I said. “We’re tool owners because we’re men and we do construction projects on stuff.”

“Paul’s not allowed to use it,” Vince said. “He almost shot a bird on accident and then he cried about it because he thought it was considered attempted murder.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” I snapped over my shoulder.

And then, completely unfairly, he said, “I’m always on your side.” He put his hand on my back and rubbed it in a slow circle. “And I always will be.”

“You three stay right there,” I said, pointing my finger at the interlopers. They looked amused as I slammed the door in their faces and turned around to maul my man for being so goddamn awesome. He grunted as I crashed into him and laughed in my face when I slobbered on his chin, but it quickly turned heated when my tongue found his. He groaned and pressed me up against the door, rolling his hips.

“God,” I gasped as he started gnawing on my neck. “This is just swell.”

There was a pounding on the door behind me. “You better not be giving him a hickey!” Sandy shouted. “Vince, I swear to God that if you mark him up and it shows up in the photos, I will ensure the rest of your life is a living hell, you understand me?”

“Quick,” I said. “Pull my shirt collar down and suck on my shoulder. I wanna have a mark.”

He did just that.

When I was properly satisfied by his level of commitment, I pushed him away, wiped my lips, and opened the door again.

“You’re disgusting,” Sandy said, eyeing me up and down. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to walk in on you and Vince this week alone? Jesus, Paul. You should be chafing by now. It’s going to fall off if you keep this up, you know. That’s a fact backed by medical science. I heard it on NPR.”

“You don’t listen to NPR,” Darren said.

Sandy turned slowly to look at Darren, who didn’t look repentant in the slightest. The Homo Jock King was growing on me. “I’m sorry,” Sandy said pleasantly. “I didn’t know that you were asked your opinion.”

Darren snorted. “Notice how that wasn’t an opinion. It was based in fact.” And then he leaned forward and pressed a swift kiss to Sandy’s forehead, causing Sandy to sputter.

“Yeah,” Corey muttered. “I’m so glad I came for this. Please, all of you. Continue being gross.”

“One day you’ll find someone who makes you as happy as Paul makes me,” Vince said earnestly. “I just know it.”

I tried to slam the door in their faces so I could make out with him some more (because no one could resist Vince Taylor saying something sweet like that and not want to stick their hand down the front of his jeans to jerk him off a little bit), but Sandy shouldered his way in, ignoring the way I squawked in outrage as I stumbled against Vince.

“Trespassers!” I hissed. “Vince! Hand me my phone so I can call and have these people arrested for entering my dwelling without permission.”

“I’ll enter your dwelling anytime you want,” Vince said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Now’s not the time for dirty talk!”

“That’s your dirty talk?” Sandy asked, throwing his coat down on the couch and becoming a severe pain in my ass. “Disappointing. Paul, have I taught you nothing?”

“You still rhyme your dirty talk,” Darren said. “I don’t know if you have room to say anything at all.”

“I stopped doing that!”

“Last week, you told me you wanted to eat my ass while sitting on grass, and then you were going to give my dick a lick.”

“Dear Jesus,” Corey said, looking up at the ceiling. “Please tell your dad to smite all the gays right now. I beg of you.”

“You can’t call 911,” Vince said. “They don’t like it when you make prank phone calls. Not that I would know anything about that.” He shifted his eyes side to side.

“We’ll come back to that,” I said. “Because you’re a terrible liar and there’s obviously a story there. But first, they’re here to kidnap you for some archaic tradition that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. We don’t need to spend the night before our wedding apart. That’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Sandy said. “Everyone does it.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“To preserve virtue or some shit.”

“Paul doesn’t have any virtue left,” Vince said. “I made sure of that.”

“So this is what being a fifth wheel feels like,” Corey said. “Neat.”

“And it’s just for one night,” Sandy said. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Me and Corey will stay here with you, Vince will go over to Darren’s and bro-out, maybe have a bro-beque—”

“Don’t you fucking dare start that again. I will rip off your motherfucking lips, Sanford Stewart.”

“—and then tomorrow, your fairy princess wedding will come true and everything will be wonderful and you’ll live happily ever after.”

“And Paul will cry like a little bitch because I’m going to win our bet,” Vince muttered under his breath.

I whirled around on him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said, smiling sweetly. “Just saying how much I love you. Also, you should probably write your vows since you haven’t even started.”

“I have started, you fucking dick. In fact, they are so amazing that there won’t be a goddamn dry eye in the state by the time I’m done.”

“You haven’t started?” Sandy said, sounding outraged. “Are you out of your damn mind? You are going to ruin my wedding that I planned for you! That’s it. Vince! Get into your room. I need to make sure you’re properly packed. Corey, come with me. Darren, you stay here and make sure Paul doesn’t try to make a run for it or grab a knife to try and stab me when I come back. Paul, after they leave, we are going to sit down and not get up until your vows are finished exactly how I think they should be. I’ve obviously given you too much freedom in this matter. It’s time to tighten the leash.”

“Okay,” Vince said. “We do have a leash and collar in the closet. Just make sure you get the one for humans and not for Wheels. Paul doesn’t like it when I accidentally grab the wrong one.”

“You kinky sumbitch,” Sandy said, sounding impressed. Then he shook his head. “You know what? No. No more distractions. Everyone hop to it right now!”

Vince and Corey ran down the hall, shoving each other as they tried to be the first to get to our bedroom. Sandy grabbed Darren by the jaw, laid a dirty kiss on him, and then shoved his face away before he walked regally toward the bedroom.

“Stop staring at my best friend like you want to pork his beans,” I said to Darren. “That’s revolting and I don’t want to see that look on your face again. It’s unnatural and you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Oh,” he said easily. “I do a hell of a lot more than that.”

“You’re a terrible person.”

“It keeps me up at night. So does Sandy sitting on my dick.”

“You should get out of my house. I don’t have time for you.”

“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Because you still need to write your vows. Way to leave that for the last minute.”

“I often find that procrastination leads to last-minute panic, which stokes my creative fires,” I said. “I’ll pull it off.” Maybe. Either that or I’d have to wing it. Which was probably going to happen anyway, because that was how my life worked.

Darren stared at me for a moment before he glanced down the hall. We could hear Sandy making demands about what Vince could and could not bring along with him while Corey sang “Thriller” by Michael Jackson in the background for reasons I couldn’t quite figure out. Then he looked back at me, reached out, snagged me by the elbow, and pulled me toward the kitchen, farther away from the bedroom.

“Hey,” I said. “I’m not going to try anything. You don’t have to manhandle me, you gigantic asshole. Okay, that was a lie. I was going to kick you in the shins and then make a break for it. I’m not sorry. You intimidate me with all your muscles. I asked Vince if you were on the juice once, but then he told me you were allergic to apple juice so he didn’t think so, and I just let it go because sometimes, I just need to put my face all over his face, you know?”

“Paul. Stop talking.”

“Right. I can do that. Most of the time. Why are we in my kitchen? That’s—”

“How has no one murdered you by now?”

“I’m surprisingly agile,” I admitted honestly. “You should see the ways I can bend. Wait. That sounded wrong. I’m not hitting on you.”

“Yeah, didn’t think that you were. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m unavailable.”

“Because you’re in lurve with my best friend?”

He grimaced. “Can you please not say it like that? I get it enough from Sandy already.”

“Well, you did say it first.”

He sighed. “So I hear all the time.”

“You seem like you’re the type that needs to be reminded of things.”

“How so?”

I shrugged. “You’re the Homo Jock King. All you know is working out and railing twinks. It’s kind of in the job description.”

“Is that all you think of me?”

I was taken aback by the question. I bit down on the sarcastic response that threatened to spill out. I wouldn’t say he looked hurt, per se, but he was obviously uncomfortable, something I didn’t think I’d ever seen on Darren Mayne before. At first he’d been a cocky asshole who seemed to have little regard for anyone other than himself. Then he was the cocky asshole who cared deeply for his brother and maybe had a crush on Sandy. Or Helena. Or both.

And then he became the cocky asshole who my best friend loved more than I ever thought possible. He still had the persona of a jerk, he still was intimidating as all fuck, but there were softer edges to him now. I didn’t know if they were because of Sandy or because he was finally letting himself relax. I knew Sandy saw sides of Darren that I never would, and while I sometimes had a hard time believing he was as good as Sandy said, I trusted Sandy to make the decisions that were right for him.

And it helped that every now and then, I’d catch Darren watching Sandy, a fond look in his eyes, something I’d only ever seen him direct toward Vince and his own mother, the few times I’d seen her. I had to take a lot on faith when it came to Darren Mayne, but I thought maybe it was going to be a good thing.

“You hurt Sandy, I’ll cut off your balls,” I blurted.

“I know you will,” he said. He leaned back against the counter opposite me, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can be scary when you want to be. Weird, but scary.”

“Damn right,” I said, feeling rather proud of myself. “I’ll murder you so hard, bitch.”

“Too far.”

“Yes, sir,” I squeaked. “Sorry, sir.”

He looked at me like I was the most exasperating thing in his world. Which, to be fair, I probably was. I could own up to that.

But then surprisingly, it faded. And the Homo Jock King let his mask slip just a little more.

He said, “I trust you.”

I squinted at him. “Thank… you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t trust many people.”

This was uncharted territory. “I know.”

“You say that, but I don’t think you do. For the longest time, it was just me and my mother. I didn’t… let myself have more than that. No matter how much I wanted it.” From down the hall came a burst of Sandy’s laughter, loud and obnoxiously bright, and I saw the small smile on Darren’s face. “And I wanted it a lot. But I told myself that things were easier the way I was doing them. That in the long run, I’d be happier without something tying me down.”

I didn’t know where he was going with this, so I didn’t say anything.

“And then Vince came,” he said. “And I was… happy. Because I’d never had anyone like him in my life before. He was funny and smart… in his own way. He looked at life so differently. He was kind and caring and believed in the good in people.”

“He was everything you weren’t,” I said quietly. Then I winced, realizing how that sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it—”

“You’re right,” he said. He didn’t even sound angry about it. “He was everything I wasn’t. And I found myself thinking that maybe he could show me how to be a better person. That’s what brothers do, right? They make each other better. Only I had nothing to offer him. And he had everything to offer me. It didn’t seem fair. It still doesn’t.”

“Oh no,” I said. “You have… traits. And… qualities. That are good.”

“Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes. “That truly made me feel better.”

“I’m not very good when you show feelings.”

“Is that why you look like you’re ready to bolt at the drop of a hat?”

“Exactly why.”

“Well, stop it.”

“I’m not sure I know how,” I admitted. “I’m really weirded out right now.”

“Can you just… listen?”

“Most of the time.”

“Paul.”

“Shutting up.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay. Just. Look. It was me and my mother. And then there was me and him. And then you came into his life. I knew who you were. Obviously. Because of Sandy. But I didn’t know you, okay? So when Vince starting talking about you, I honestly didn’t give two shits.”

“That… makes me feel a little better, actually. There’s the Darren I know.”

“But he continued talking about you. And Vince… you know Vince. He’s this light that none of us could ever hope to be. It’s just part of who he is. But it became brighter. Because of you. You were someone important to him. Do you remember the night I called when his mother died? When we didn’t know where he was?”

“You said he’d gone to his home.”

“And he’d shown up here,” he agreed. “With you. Because you were his home. Even after such a short amount of time, he already thought of you as his home.” He shook his head. “I thought he was being stupid about this, you know? That everything was happening too fast, that it was going to break apart, burn out before it could actually go anywhere. But then I stopped and listened. Paul, I really listened. Not just to him. But to you as well. I heard the way you talked to each other. And with every word you said, no matter if it was stupid or not, I could hear how much you loved him.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I do,” I managed to say. “A lot. More than anything.”

“I know. And it gave me the courage to finally go after what I wanted.”

“In a completely roundabout, ludicrous, eighties-movie-plot kind of way?”

He laughed. If you’d have told me three years ago the Homo Jock King would have been in my kitchen, laughing at something I’d said, I would have thought you were crazy. “Yeah, I guess it was,” he said. “But it all worked out in the end. I’ve got him now. And I don’t plan on letting him go.”

“That’s sweet,” I assured him. “Also creepy, but mostly sweet.”

“Vince loves you,” Darren said. “More than anything else in the world. And I’m not here to threaten you. Because I know you love him just as much. I just wanted to… shit. This is going to sound ridiculous, and I swear to God if you tell anyone I said this, I will make your life a living hell, you understand me?”

I nodded.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet. “I wanted to thank you. Because if there is anyone that deserves Vince, it’s you. You make him better. You make him happier. You make him the person I think he’s always wanted to be. And because of you and him, I finally get the chance to do the same for myself.” He looked up at me, determined. “I’m going to make Sandy happier than he’s ever been. I promise you that. You don’t ever have to worry about him when he’s with me. I would rather cut off my own arm than hurt him intentionally.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

He looked relieved. “I know. And I expect you to.”

Since it was already awkward, I asked, “Are we supposed to hug now? I feel like we should probably hug now. Like one of those bro-hugs where you slap my back three times and I do the same to you.”

He made a face at me. “Let’s not and say we did.”

“I’m onto you now, Mayne. I’ve seen your heart. I’m going to lord this over you for the rest of our lives.”

He scowled at me. “I take it all back.”

I sobered for a moment. “You know I’ll take care of him, right? And that he’ll do the same for me?”

“Yeah. I know. You guys are that disgusting.”

I grinned at him. “Just wait until you’re in my shoes, buddy. I’ll remind you the night before your wedding, okay?”

He swallowed thickly at that and looked away. I let it go.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I never found out what it was because the others started coming back down the hall, loud as hell. Sandy came into the kitchen first, and I could see the hesitation in his steps as he caught sight of the two of us. I didn’t know what he saw on our faces, but it was enough to make him frown.

“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing between the two of us.

“Yeah,” I said, voice even. “Just getting to know your piece of mancake better.”

“Don’t call me that,” Darren said with a scowl, mask back firmly in place. But that was okay, because I knew now there was so much more to him than what he usually showed. If I’d ever had any doubts about him and Sandy, they were gone now.

“He was just telling me how much he loves you,” I teased. “That you are his moon and stars and that he wants nothing more than to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

Sandy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I doubt he said any of that.”

“Maybe I did,” Darren said, arching an eyebrow. “I am capable of emotion, you know.”

“I really want to blow you right now,” Sandy said, a bit of Helena poking through.

Darren didn’t look like he thought that was the worst idea in the world, much to my dismay. “No blowjobs in our house unless it’s Vince sucking on my dick. In fact, if you want it so bad, you all can leave and Vince can stay home where he belongs.”

“Maybe I should get a cat.” Corey sighed. “I feel like I could make a good cat lady. And I could take up magazine collecting. Or I could grow tomatoes. I’d be good at those things.”

“Vince isn’t staying here,” Sandy said. “It’s tradition that the bride and groom spend the night apart before the wedding and that the best friends get to be together and talk trash about their baes while drinking wine spritzers and wearing cucumber facials.”

“I don’t even know what to do with any of that sentence,” I said.

“Hush your mouth. Tell Vince good-bye while I suck on Darren’s tongue. Corey, go get our bags out of the car please.”

“Sure,” Corey said. “Lord knows I live to help the white man.” But he walked out of the kitchen, whistling for Wheels to follow him.

“We’ll give you guys some privacy,” Sandy said, tugging on Darren’s hand. “But, Paul, I swear to God that if you try and make a run for it, I will hunt you down and drag you back kicking and screaming. Do you understand me?”

“I do what I want.”

Sandy glared at me.

“And by that, I mean I do whatever you tell me to do.”

“That’s better. You have three minutes.” And then they were out of the kitchen.

“You better not blow him in my house!” I shouted after them.

“No promises!”

“Ugh,” I muttered, turning to Vince, who was smiling softly at me. “I don’t know what you’re so happy about. They’re tearing us apart.”

He rolled his eyes as he started toward me. “Nah. Nothing could do that.”

“Ow. My feelings.”

His smile widened as he pressed me against the counter, his big hands on my hips. “I’m pretty good at those.”

“My feelings? Yeah. I guess you are.”

“If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.” He had his earnest face on again. Goddammit.

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I just like bitching. I know how important this is to Sandy.”

“Yeah, but it’s our wedding.”

I snorted. “If you don’t think this is as much for everyone else as it is for us, then baby, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

“We could always elope.”

I stared at him. “Do you know what Sandy would do to me? To you? Vince, there would be no corner on this earth where we could go that he wouldn’t find us. And I for one don’t want to be on the run for the rest of our lives.”

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care. That’s all I want.”

I groaned. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you actively trying to make me lose the bet? You bastard.”

And we were both smiling as he leaned in and kissed me and I remember thinking that yeah, as long as I was with him, the rest didn’t matter.

That was all I wanted.

THAT NIGHT, Corey and Sandy curled up with me in our bed. I felt warm and happy and loved. It was good to feel that way.

“You nervous?” Corey asked me as I pulled gently on one of his tight curls, his head in my lap. I was sitting up against the headboard, Sandy lying heavily against my side.

“I don’t… think so? Maybe a little. I’m sure it’ll get worse tomorrow. Right now, I’m just… excited.”

“As you should be,” Sandy said. “It’s going to be the best day ever. I put too much effort in this for it not to be.”

“You ass,” I said fondly. “And even though I still hate you a little for making Vince leave, I’m really glad you’re here. The both of you.”

“I won’t suck on your wiener,” Corey said. “So get that thought out of your head right now.”

“Moment ruined,” I said with a sigh. “Good job.”

“It was getting too sweet for me,” he said. “That’s not us. We’re snarky and bitchy and mean.”

“Eh,” Sandy said. “Maybe, just for one day, we can let that go.”

“Knowing us, tomorrow will just be one big clusterfuck anyway,” I said. “I’m prepared for it.”

“As long as no one dies and nothing lights on fire, we’ll be fine,” Sandy said.

“The fact that those are the guidelines we set really speaks volumes about us as people,” Corey said. “I like us a lot.”

“And we probably need to come to a consensus on how we’re going to act with Daddy’s new man,” I said. “Do we go for intimidating or standoffish?”

“Possibly with a dash of threatening,” Sandy added.

“It is our responsibility to judge him to his face to make sure he’s good enough,” Corey agreed.

“Best day ever,” I said.

“Except for the fact that you still didn’t write your vows,” Sandy said. “I feel like that’s just going to lead to a train wreck that I’ll see coming, but will not want to do anything to stop because I like destruction porn.”

“Eh, winging it still sounds like a good idea. I’ll probably regret it when I’m standing in front of everyone, but that’s Tomorrow Paul’s problem. Today Paul is feeling fine.”

And later, when the others had drifted off to sleep, I was feeling fine. Better than fine, even. I couldn’t wait to marry Vince. I couldn’t wait for us to belong to each other completely.

And like it was a little bit of magic, the moment I started thinking of him, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I knew who it was, and even though we weren’t supposed to be talking to each other, I figured a moment or two wouldn’t hurt.

Vince: miss u

Me: Me too. Sandy hogs the covers. Corey snores

Vince: lol. u scared?

Me: No

Vince: me either

Me: Okay, a little bit

Vince: ha, same. we got this?

Me: We so got this.

Vince: 2morrow i get to be mr. vince auster

Me: Yeah you do

Vince: can’t wait

Me: Love you

Vince: luv u 2. nite babe

Yeah. It was going to be just fine.

Chapter Seven: Until You

March 26, 2016

“IT’S NOT fine,” I moaned. “None of it is fine. What the hell was I thinking? I’m getting married? Who does that? I’ll tell you who does that. Crazy heterosexuals who forced their ideology of what it means to be happy upon the gays. I don’t even know if I believe in the institution of marriage.”

“Oh boy,” Sandy said. “I thought this was going to happen.”

“Because he was far too calm yesterday?” Corey asked.

Sandy nodded. “Good. You’re learning. Anytime Paul is calm the day before a major event usually means that the day of, he’ll flame out in an explosion of drama and diva-like behavior.”

“But he really hasn’t acted like a diva yet—”

“Why the hell have you not put my cufflinks on like I told you to do five minutes ago?” I snarled at Sandy. “Are you useless? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Because if that’s what you’re trying to tell me, surprise! I already know.”

“Whoa,” Corey breathed. “That was so cool. It’s my turn! Do me. Tell me how I’m lacking!”

I whirled on Corey, wiping spittle from my lips. “You. You’re the reason we’re here at all.”

“Um. What?”

“You moved back to Tucson, and then months later, Vince proposes. This whole thing is your fault.”

“Huh,” Corey said. “I never thought about it that way. I’ll accept it. I feel good about myself. You’re welcome.”

It took all I had not to reach out and strangle him.

We were at the horse farm (and why, why did I agree to ever allow my wedding to happen at a goddamn horse farm?), the ceremony less than twenty minutes away. I was already in my suit, which was gray, with a white button-up dress shirt. The tie was violet, with a matching pocket square. Vince’s suit was supposed to match, except apparently he’d chosen to go with a bow tie, which I cursed him for, because Vince Taylor wearing a bow tie was my greatest weakness. And he knew that, the asshole.

Corey and Sandy were dressed similarly. They didn’t have suit jackets, but instead wore gray-and-black checkered vests over white dress shirts, the buttons opened at the collar, and gray slacks. They looked cool and calm and collected, and I was sweating and sure I was about to hyperventilate my way into a heart attack.

“We should run,” I decided. “Just make a break for it. We still have those costumes the time we went to spy on Darren and his not-date, right? I can live the rest of my life in the Ozarks as Agnes Beaverton. I have no problem with that.”

“We’re not running,” Sandy said, approaching me cautiously. “You don’t really want to do that.”

“Of course I don’t,” I scoffed. “Why would you even say something like that?”

Corey cocked his head at me. “But you just said—oh yeah, that look you’re giving me is terrifying. I agree with whatever you say because you’re right about everything.”

“Damn right I am,” I muttered as Sandy started fiddling with the cufflinks, snapping one into place and then the other. “Maybe I should just see Vince before. You know? Just for a minute.”

“You’ll see him soon enough,” Sandy said.

And I heard everything he wasn’t saying. “He’s already gone, isn’t he?”

“What.”

“Did he run?” I wheezed. “Did he do that terrible impression he does of Julia Roberts and flee from this place?”

“What the fuck,” Corey said faintly.

“Paul,” Sandy said firmly. “I will slap the shit out of you if you need me to.”

“He’s probably halfway across the state by now, already changing his name and—”

Sandy slapped me.

I gaped at him, bringing my hand to my cheek. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

“You act like a bitch, I’m gonna treat you like my bitch,” he growled.

“Whoa,” Corey said. “Why do you guys always give me weird boners?”

“Now you listen here,” Sandy said, shoulders set, jaw tense. “Vince isn’t going anywhere except to stand in front of our friends and family to tell everyone how much he loves you. You’re not going anywhere but to do the same. Except your vows are going to be a little more awkward because of the winging-it thing you’re doing that I can’t wait to hear because it’s going to be hilariously awkward. But that man loves you. You love him. That’s the only thing that matters. I guarantee you that he’s not freaking out over there—”

Darren burst in through the door to the dressing room we stood in, phone to his ear. He looked handsome in his suit, the sleeves of his dress shirt looking like they were ready to burst due to his bulk. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on me. “He’s standing right here,” he said into the phone, sounding annoyed. “I told you he wasn’t going to leave. You really need to calm—don’t yell at me, Vince, or I’m going to come back there and kick your ass.” Darren covered up the phone with a hand. “Vince is freaking out.” Then he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Well,” Sandy said. “Obviously you two deserve each other. That’s just sickening.”

“This might be the most adorable moment of my life,” Corey said. “And that makes me really sad.”

There was a knock at the door before it opened again. In came Mom and Dad and Nana, all of them smiling widely. Mom’s smile faltered a little bit when she saw me wringing my hands viciously, probably looking like I was on the verge of a panic attack. She pushed past my father and rushed over to me.

“Hey,” she said warmly, reaching up to cup my face. Her hands were cool against my heated skin. “You okay? You look… not well.”

“I’m just… I don’t…. Mom. I’m scared and I don’t know why.”

“Of course you are,” she said. “I would be worried if you weren’t. It’s a big day. Anybody would be. But you know what I think?”

“What?”

“That while you’re scared, there is a bigger part of you that knows this is what you want, more than anything else. That Vince is what you want. You may think you have doubts, but sweetheart, doubts are not the same as fears. You can be scared, but so long as you believe in him, in what you two have, then everything will be just fine.”

I deflated against her, and she wrapped her arms around my neck while I laid my forehead against her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled.

“Anytime,” she whispered. “And if it makes you feel better, I just came from telling Vince the same thing while he was on the phone with Darren, sending him over to check. He’s scared too, but there is nothing he wants more than you. And for what it’s worth, he looks good. If I was twenty years younger and not married to your father—hell, even if I wasn’t twenty years younger—I’d be tempted to take that out for a test drive.”

“Oh God,” I groaned. “Why would you say that?”

“I’d probably do the same,” Dad said, coming up beside us and squeezing my shoulder.

“You guys are the absolute worst.”

“We love you too,” Mom said. “Now, I just wanted to see you… before.” She pulled away from the hug, running her hands across my chest, fiddling with my tie. I saw the way her bottom lip was quivering, and I had to look away before I got choked up. “Just to say how proud I am of you.” She sniffled and then laughed wetly. “If you had told me the day I was pushing you out that I’d be this happy, I would have believed you, because even then, even when you were taking your time in my vagina, I knew you were going to be something special.”

“I love you,” I said seriously, “but that was the grossest thing you’ve ever said to me. Mom. What the hell.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m allowed to say what I want. My son’s getting married to my other son.”

“Still need to work on that phrasing,” Dad said lightly.

“That’s what I tell my friends at the bridge club,” Nana said. “And I don’t bother to correct their assumptions. It’s hysterical. They think we’re all inbred.”

“Now that that’s all squared away,” Sandy said, “Matty, you need to go back over with Vince since he’s walking first. Corey, Nana, and I need to get up to the front so everyone can stare and see how good we all look.”

“Represent,” Nana said.

Mom hugged me again, cooing that I would always be her baby boy even as she wiped her eyes. Corey and Nana kissed my cheek. Sandy held on for a long time before leaving without saying another word.

Then it was just me and my father.

“You trust me?” Dad asked, taking my hand in his and bumping his shoulder against mine.

“Yeah,” I said. “Always.”

“And you know that being a parent means that I will always want what’s best for you.”

“I know.”

“Then you can trust me when I say that Vince is what’s best for you,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I’m just going to say one thing, and then we’ll go. I figure it’s my duty as your dad.”

I nodded, unsure of where this was going.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Being a dad is… the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, next to your mother. The day you were born, I promised you that I would do anything within my power to make sure you were the happiest little boy that ever lived. All I wanted for you was to know what love was, to know that you were loved, and to teach you how to love others. And you did. You had us. And then one day you had Sandy. And Corey. And it was good. For a long time, it was good. But then it changed into something more. And I knew it for what it was. Do you remember that day when your mother and I found you and Vince on your first date downtown?”

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “You said he was my Dom.”

“Well, you were sitting on his lap and he did seem awfully possessive of you. I’m still not convinced you’re not a horse or whatever it is—”

“Dad.”

“Right. But I saw it, Paul. Even then. You were happy before. Mostly. But I still thought maybe sometimes you were sad. And I didn’t want you to be sad. As a parent, it’s one of the worst things when your kid is sad and you don’t know how to fix it. And then Vince came and it was….” He let out a shuddering breath. “It was good because he did what I couldn’t do. I could do my best to build your happiness as your dad, but Vince was able to come in and complete it. And that’s all I could have ever asked for. I am so proud of you, Paul. For everything that you are. And I know that you’re in good hands. Vince belongs to us just as much as you do. And I thank God every day you found each other.”

I hugged my father then. For a long time. He held me tightly and it was good. It was so, so good.

And then his phone beeped.

We pulled apart. He pulled his phone out, glancing down at the screen. “Okay,” he said cheerfully. “That’s our cue. You ready?”

And I said the only thing I could.

“Let’s rock and roll.”

I DIDN’T pay attention to much else after I saw him waiting for me.

My dad’s arm was through mine, and we walked down the stairs. I remember that. Music was playing. The crowd was murmuring. I saw familiar faces. I felt the warmth of Dad at my side. The sun was setting. There were birds singing in the palm trees.

But it all fell away when I saw him.

And after that, I only had eyes for Vincent Melody Taylor.

He was handsome in his suit and bow tie, like I knew he’d be. That was never in question. What I didn’t expect, after all of this, was the sheer relief I felt at the sight of him. Deep inside, I knew he’d be there, waiting for me, but the sight of him actually there was the confirmation I needed. This was right. Everything about this was right.

He was distracted by something. What, I didn’t know. But it wasn’t until Darren leaned in and murmured in his ear that his head jerked up and he saw me.

And I saw the stuttering breath.

The hitching of his chest.

And it took everything I could not to run to him.

But I walked that long walk next to my father.

I never looked away.

Neither did he.

The smile on his face when I finally stood before him was the widest I’d ever seen.

My dad squeezed my arm before he let me go. Before he took his place at my side, Dad broke protocol and hugged Vince tightly, kissing him on the cheek. The audience laughed as Vince hugged him back, watching me over Dad’s shoulder.

Dad stepped back, winked at me, then went to stand next to Sandy.

And then it was just the two of us.

(And the fifty or so people around us. Semantics.)

He took his hands into mine and didn’t even seem to care that they were sweaty.

That was true love right there.

We weren’t religious. We didn’t have any specific faith. My family were lapsed Catholics, and the only time Vince had been inside a church was for his mother’s funeral. Sandy had directed us toward a woman he volunteered with at Wingspan, which catered toward the LGBTQ+ youth. The woman, a lesbian named Jenny, was apparently an ordained Unitarian minister who had done other same-sex weddings. She was older, and kind. When we’d met her a few months previous, she’d assured us she’d be more than willing to officiate and make it about us instead of being too mired in faith. We’d read over what she’d say and saw hardly any changes to be made. It was to be short and sweet, given that the vows were going to be what was the most important.

Which apparently I sucked at.

So when she spoke, I knew what she was going to say.

And that’s when I knew it was real. All of this was real.

“It is written,” she said, voice loud and clear, “that the greatest of all things—the most wonderful experience in the world—is love. Vince and Paul, into your lives has entered a deep and nurturing love, and you have asked me to help you celebrate and affirm that love. It is a great honor you have bestowed upon me, and I shall cherish it, as you obviously cherish each other.”

And I never looked away from Vince. Not once. Not the entire time she spoke. I didn’t think I actually even heard what she said aside from the beginning. And while I continued to sweat, Vince looked remarkably at ease, like just having me here in front of him was all he needed to be calm. I didn’t know what that said about him—or me, for that matter—but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not when I was getting to have something I never really ever thought could be mine.

I should have been using the time to think of something coherent to say.

I was mostly staring at Vince’s lips.

I was a terrible almost-husband.

So I startled a little when Jenny said, “Vince and Paul have written their own vows, as a sign of their love and respect for one another.”

“Bullshit,” Sandy coughed behind me like an asshole.

I ignored him.

“They will now recite them in front of their friends and family,” Jenny continued, “who will bear witness to the love between these two men. Vince? Paul? You purposefully didn’t give me an order as to who was going first. I think you told me you had a plan for that?”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

“Right,” Vince said, suddenly looking determined. “We have a very serious plan as to decide who is going first.”

He let go of me and brought up his left hand, palm up, and made his right hand into a fist, resting it on top of the other.

I did the same.

“Jesus Christ,” I heard Charlie groan behind me. “Are you being serious?”

“On three?” Vince asked.

“On three,” I agreed.

He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper so I would be the only one that could hear him. “You’re going down, Auster.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Bring it, Future Auster.”

The smile was blinding.

He said, “One, two, three.”

I went paper.

He went scissors.

He never went scissors.

He always went rock, because he didn’t understand how to play Paper, Rock, Scissors like a normal person. He had never—

“Got you,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

“You tricked me,” I said, sounding outraged. “You knew how to play it this whole time!”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s Paper, Rock, Scissors, Paul. Duh. Everyone knows how to do it. God, I played you like a fiddle.” He frowned. “I don’t think I know what a fiddle is. I don’t even know how I know that word.”

“And it was going so well,” Corey sighed.

“Nothing has lit on fire,” Nana said. “I can change that if needed. I brought a canister of gasoline and some matches in the car.”

“And why did you bring that?” Dad asked.

“You never know when you need to burn your way out of a bad situation,” Nana said flatly. “I don’t want this to turn into another Des Moines, Iowa, disaster.”

“You’ve never been to Des Moines,” Mom said from behind Vince.

“Sure I haven’t,” Nana said. “That’s exactly right. I’ve never been there. And I’ve never gone under the name Eva St. James while in Des Moines in 1958, either, so don’t you worry about that.”

“This is pretty much normal for this family,” Darren told Jenny. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You’re part of this family,” Mom said, patting him on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Darren looked inordinately pleased at that.

“Vince gets to go first,” I muttered. “Because he cheats.”

“Don’t hate the player,” Vince said. “Hate the game.”

“Maybe we should proceed?” Jenny asked.

“Right,” Vince said, and suddenly, he was nervous again, which made me nervous again. He bit his bottom lip and looked down between us for a moment. He breathed in, held it, and then breathed out again before he looked back up at me.

He said, “For a long time, I felt alone. My, uh. My parents were… well. They were focused on other things. They had people depending on them. They had important jobs. They had priorities. And I—I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t a priority. I wasn’t anyone’s priority.”

He shook his head and reached out for me again. I grabbed his hands and squeezed his fingers tightly. “So for a long time, I felt alone. I had friends. Good friends, even. But it still felt like I was missing something. Something that I could… I don’t know. Something that I could call my own. Something that I could point out and say that’s mine.

“Mom died, and at the end, before she passed, she told me she was sorry. That she wished she could have been more to me. That she could have done more for me. And I might have hated her for it, might have thought it was too little too late, but I didn’t. I didn’t think that because the week before, I’d met a man named Paul Auster and had fallen in love.”

He laughed quietly to himself. “I knew. From that moment I first saw you. I knew that you were going to change everything. I didn’t know why. I just knew I needed to know your name, and that once I knew that, then I could get to know you. And once I did that, then everything would be okay. And so I did. I learned your name, Paul. I followed you around. You were exasperated by me, you were annoyed with me. And I just wanted to know everything about you. Darren told me I was being stupid about it. That I would scare you off, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be by your side as much as I could.” He shrugged, and I saw his determined expression stutter for a moment. “You were… God, you were this person, this snarky, sarcastic person who was unlike anyone else I’d ever met. And the more I got to know, the more I wanted it for good.

“I’ve been told we fell too fast. That it wasn’t normal. That it wasn’t realistic. That it wouldn’t last. But I don’t care what those people say, because they don’t know you like I do. They don’t know how you look in the morning when your hair sticks up in different directions. They don’t know that you call pineapple on pizza an affront to all that’s holy. They don’t know that even though I might not be the smartest person in the world, that you don’t treat me like I’m stupid. They can see you, they can see the sarcasm. They can see your sass. But I don’t think they can see your heart, your perfect, fierce heart like I can.”

He chuckled wetly, somehow still in control. “I didn’t have much. I didn’t have a big family I could call my own. I didn’t have people that were my people.” He looked around at the people who stood with us, before turning back to me and taking another breath. “Until you. Paul, until you, I didn’t know what it meant to have a mom and a dad. To have a Nana. I had a brother, but I didn’t have someone who could be my brother and my sister. I didn’t have a Daddy. I didn’t have a queen who loves you almost as much as I do. I didn’t have any of those things, until you. Because you gave them to me, Paul, just as surely as you gave me yourself, and I promise you, with all that I am, that I will protect them, that I will love them, that I will care for them. And I promise you, Paul, that I will love you forever, okay? I just wanna love you forever. That’s all I ever wanted, and this is real, okay? I promise you it’s real. We’re gonna be good. I know it. We’re gonna be so, so good. I’ll make sure of it. Because until you, I didn’t have a home. And now I do. So. That’s… good. Um. That’s it. That’s all I had to say.”

I gaped at him.

He gave me a wobbly smile.

Jenny said, “Paul, would you like to—”

I promptly burst into tears. “You fucking asshole!” I shouted at him.

The crowd gasped.

“Oh no,” Sandy moaned, voice thick and wet.

“Yes!” he crowed, dropping my hand so he could fist pump like he was Judd Fucking Nelson. “Suck it! I won! I knew I would get you!”

“You’re crying too!”

“Well, yeah,” he said as his voice broke, and it knocked the breath from my chest. He reached up and wiped his eyes. “I love you, Paul. We’re getting married. This is the best day of my life. Of course I’m crying.”

I don’t think I can be blamed for tackling him then.

He laughed as we went down off the raised altar onto the grass, landing with a jarring crash.

Our guests gasped again, like the drama queens they were. They acted like they’d never been to a gay wedding before where one groom launched himself at the other groom. Amateurs.

I was straddling Vince, and his hands were resting on my thighs, and the tears were falling freely now. “I’m going to marry the shit out of you,” I told him. “You have no idea.”

“I think I have some idea,” he said.

“I can’t beat what you said, because that was some damn fine English if I do say so myself.”

“Why thank you. The computer had a thesaurus. It helped.”

“Do you believe me when I say I love you?”

“I do.”

“And do you believe me that I’m gonna love you even when we’re old and gross?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“And do you believe me when I say I would kick anybody’s ass who tries to fuck with you?”

He choked out another laugh. “Oh yeah.”

“Good.” I held out my hand, not looking away from him. “Rings.” Nothing happened. “Oh my fucking God, give me the fucking rings.”

Sandy and Darren both leapt forward, dropping the rings in my hands as Wheels began to bark from where he sat in Nana’s arms. Everyone else around us was silent, most likely in horror. But that was okay. This wasn’t about them. This was about me and the guy I was sitting on.

He held up his hand and I slid the ring on his finger. It was a simple silver band, thick and shiny, with today’s date and our initials engraved inside. Mine was the same, and he took it from me and placed it on my own finger. It felt heavy, like a brand, and I loved every second of it.

“Jenny!”

“Uh. Yes? Paul?”

“Do you have to say anything else before I can kiss the holy hell out of Vince and make him my husband?”

“Um, maybe?”

“Then say it!” I demanded. “I need to mack on my man for real.”

“This is so goddamn lovely!” Sandy wailed. “It’s everything I hoped it would be!”

“Okay, then. By the power invested in me by the state of Arizona, I now pronounce you husband and husband. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Paul and Vince Auster. You may kiss your—”

But Vince had already captured my mouth with his own, and it was the best goddamn first-married-kiss in the history of the world. The wedding party behind us cheered. Our guests clapped slowly, like they were unsure of what just had happened.

I didn’t care. I wasn’t focused on that.

Instead, I kissed my husband for all I was worth.

Until you, Vince.

Until you.

Epilogue: Robert and Jeremy

THE REST was a whirlwind. We stood for photos, some with all of us, many with just me and Vince. I didn’t remember a lot of it, but that was okay. Later, I’d see the finished products, and there would be nothing but hearts in my eyes, an awed smile on my face as I looked at Vince. There would be one that would be my favorite above all. It wasn’t staged, just one of the hundreds of moments that day held. Charlie took it, and it showed Vince and I standing off away from everyone else, ties undone, jackets off. Vince had his hands on my hips, and mine were around the back of his neck. His forehead was pressed against mine, his eyes closed, a contented smile on his face. That would be the photograph that would be hung in our home, the one I’d look at over and over and over again to know that I was loved with his whole heart.

But that would be later.

There was food and dancing and speeches given. Sandy bawled halfway through his best man speech, demanding that he could get a do-over once he was more composed. We all agreed and he nailed it the second time around, telling stories of love and life and apparently every single embarrassing thing I’d ever done. People were starting to stare at me strangely by the time he was finished, but he looked pleased with himself, so I just let it go.

Darren did the same for Vince, his a bit gruffer than Sandy’s, more serious. He told everyone listening that he always worried that Vince would end up with someone who couldn’t appreciate him for every facet of who he was, but he didn’t worry about that anymore. He toasted us, wineglass raised in our direction, and I mouthed thank you. The Homo Jock King nodded and took his seat next to Sandy, who leaned over and whispered something in his ear. I saw the mask slip again, a quiet smile on his face. I began to realize I was seeing that more and more, and knew my best friend had a lot to do with it.

We danced. All of us did. Vince and I were first, and we swayed back and forth while everyone looked on. I still stepped on his feet, stupid Groupon dance lesson be damned. But he didn’t mind. I told myself that I should probably keep him around because of that.

And then Mom cut in, and I held her close. I choked on a laugh as I looked over her shoulder to see my father taking Vince for a spin around the dance floor. They moved gracefully, much better than Vince or I ever had.

“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Mom said.

“It is. And here I am, stepping all over you.”

“Funny how I don’t mind.”

“Funny.”

“We love him,” she said as we watched Vince dip my father, something I would never forget.

“I know,” I said. “Thank you. I don’t know if I ever told you that before. For loving him like you both do.”

She patted me on the chest. “You don’t have to thank us. You just have to promise me you’ll take care of each other as best you can. That’s all I ask.”

“We will.”

Nana eventually cut in, demanding that we recreate the dance scene from Dirty Dancing. “I’ll get a running start,” she said. “I figure I need at least twenty feet. I jump, you catch me, and then lift me above your head.”

“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t. I don’t think Vince would—”

“Wow,” Nana said. “Married for three hours, and already playing the subservient wife. It was nice knowing you, kid. Let me know if you find your balls again. Sherry! What are your thoughts on lifting an older woman above your head?”

Darren’s mother, who’d driven down from Phoenix, said, “I’m a nurse. I lift older women all the time.”

“Good,” Nana said. “I’m going to get a running start. Make sure you don’t treat yourself to a handful. This isn’t that kind of dance.”

Vince found me later, standing out on the patio, looking up at the stars. He wrapped an arm around my waist as he came up next to me, leaning in to kiss my neck. I shivered at the scrape of his teeth near my jaw. “Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing out here?”

“Just… breathing.”

“Breathing’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“You good?”

“Better than, I think.”

He nuzzled me again. “Good. Now, since we’re not going on a honeymoon for a few weeks, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” I said, turning until we were face to face.

He leaned in and brushed his nose against mine. “What say we get Wheels and get on outta here? We’ll go home. I’ll take off your clothes. And then I’ll Freddie Prinze Junior your butt so hard, you’ll be walking funny tomorrow.”

“That still doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “Is that a no?”

“Nope,” I said. “Definitely not a no. But let’s make it so I’m walking funny for at least two days, Mr. Auster.”

He grinned. “That sounds good to me, Mr. Auster.”

“Wow,” Sandy said, causing both of us to jump. “You do realize that sounds exactly like your parents, right? That’s unfortunate.”

I glared at him, only to find Darren and Corey standing next to him with amused looks on their faces. “Excuse you. We were having a moment.”

Sandy waved a hand at me dismissively. “You have a lifetime ahead of you for those. Charlie wants us together for the big introduction.”

“Ooh,” I said, shoving Vince away. “That is so much more important than the first-time married-couple sex I was going to go have.”

“Hey!” Vince said. Then, “Okay, you’re right. It is a little bit more important.”

“He’s so nervous, it’s adorable,” Sandy said. “He’s doing that thing where he’s trying to pretend he’s not, but he’s all twitchy. Ah, the throes of young love. Or. Well. Young old-people love.” He frowned. “Elderly boning? Never mind. It’s… cute.”

I’d only caught glimpses of Robert, having been swept up in everything else going on to be able to stop for an introduction. I knew that this was important to Charlie, especially in light of that fact that this was the first time this had ever happened. Not once in all the years I had known him had he ever brought someone for us to meet. It’d made me sad for the longest time, especially since I still wasn’t clear on his relationship with Sandy’s old mentor, Vaguyna Muffman. Regardless, her death had been devastating for Charlie. And not to mention his bitch of an ex-wife who’d taken his kids away from him.

So this was important.

First-time married-people sex could wait just a little bit more.

“Are we supposed to go find him?” I asked.

“No,” Sandy said. “He was going to grab Robert and bring him out—there they are.”

There was a dapper man walking next to Charlie, his suit looking perfectly cut for his slender frame. He was of the same height as Charlie and walked smoothly with the help of a wooden cane. His hair was salt and peppered and thin, but the beard on his face was full. The skin around his eyes was wrinkled prominently, but even I could see that age had not diminished his handsomeness. He held on to Charlie’s elbow as they walked. They made a striking couple, Charlie rough and strong, Robert elegant and wispy.

“Wow,” Corey murmured. “Old dude is hot.”

“Don’t let Charlie hear you say that,” I whispered. “Might think you’re trying to get all up on his GILF.”

Corey choked out a laugh.

And I could see what Sandy was talking about as Charlie approached. He was a little stiffer than he normally was, and it had nothing to do with his arthritis. He was nervous about this, and any thought I had about teasing him immediately went out the window. Maybe there had been other people aside from Vaguyna. But maybe they hadn’t been important enough. This was obviously important to him.

I reached over and grabbed Sandy’s hand, squeezing it sharply. He squeezed right back, and I knew he understood.

No one said a word as they approached. Charlie looked over all of us before his gaze rested on Sandy and me.

“Everyone,” Charlie said. “This is Robert Olsen. My… date.” He blushed furiously.

I wanted to aww them both so hard.

Somehow, I resisted.

Robert looked amused when he glanced over at Charlie. When he spoke, his voice was soft and not as deep as I thought it’d be. It had a slightly effeminate quality to it, and I decided right then and there that I wanted to make sure Charlie kept him forever. “Your date? Is that what the kids call it these days? I prefer us going steady myself. You can give me your letterman jacket later if you’d like, when we go parking.”

“Oh my God,” Sandy and I both said at the same time, obviously unable to last even a few seconds without embarrassing the crap out of Charlie.

“You have to keep him,” Sandy demanded.

“Forever,” I agreed. “Never let him out of your sight.”

Charlie sighed. “Robert, these are my—”

“Your kids?” Robert asked. “That’s what you call them.”

Charlie blushed again and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

And that just wouldn’t do. “Yes,” I said, taking a step forward. “We’re his kids. I’m Paul. This is my new husband, Vince. And there’s Sandy and his boyfriend, Darren. And the baby of the group, the beautiful Corey.”

Robert shook my hand, his grip firm. “It was a lovely ceremony. I particularly liked the way you knocked down Vince here. Charlie told me he wasn’t surprised that it happened that way.”

“That’s because they never do anything normal,” Charlie mumbled.

“Pish posh,” Robert said, swatting Charlie’s shoulder lightly. “You were just as proud as Paul’s parents. I could see it in your eyes. Don’t you try and deny it, you old coot.”

Charlie got a grumpy look on his face. “I wasn’t denying it.”

“This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened,” I whispered to Sandy.

“You just got married,” Sandy reminded me.

“Oh. Right. Well, Vince will forgive me.”

“What are we whispering about?” Vince whispered.

“How much I love you.”

“Oh. Cool. I love you too.”

“Charlie’s told me so much about you,” Robert said. “He speaks about all of you often.”

“That’s because we’re amazing,” Corey said.

“There is that,” Robert said. “I’m just happy to finally meet you all. I feel like I know you well already.”

“I don’t talk about them that much,” Charlie said with a scowl.

“You have pictures of them in your wallet,” Robert said, a glint in his eyes. “Don’t you try and deny it.”

The sound that Sandy and I made was not exactly the most masculine thing we’d ever done, but I couldn’t find a reason to give a shit.

“You are going to come to lunch with us one day soon,” I said.

“And we won’t take no for an answer,” Sandy said.

“We should probably get his phone number,” Corey said. “Because of reasons.”

“If you’re thinking of running,” Darren said, “you should know it’s probably already too late.”

“That’s okay,” Robert said. “I don’t run much anymore. The knee, wouldn’t you know.”

“I like it when Paul chases me,” Vince said. “Usually, it means that he’s gonna—mmph.”

“Vince,” I said, pressing my hand over his mouth even harder. “Maybe not in front of Charlie’s boo.”

Charlie groaned. “Please don’t call him that.”

“You brought this upon yourself when you let us love you,” Sandy told him.

“And now that we know you call us your kids, this is only going to get so much worse,” I said.

“You have no one to blame but yourself,” Corey said.

“No, but seriously,” Darren said to Robert. “You’ll never get away now.”

“Mmmmmph,” Vince said.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, dropping my hand. “I just like putting my hands on—”

A cell phone rang.

Robert’s eyes widened as he dug through his pocket. “Excuse me,” he said, sounding regretful. “I’m expecting a phone call. I apologize. It won’t be but a moment.” And before he answered the phone, he pressed a kiss to Charlie’s cheek. Then he put the phone to his ear and walked toward the ballroom again.

We all stared at Charlie.

He shuffled his feet. Cleared his throat.

We stared some more.

He coughed.

We still stared.

“Oh for God’s sake,” he said, running a hand over his face. “I just… really like him. Okay? And lord knows that you’re all my kids, even if we aren’t exactly related—ah, hell. You really need to do that right now?”

“Yes,” Sandy, Corey, Vince, and I all said at the same time, each of us holding on to some part of Charlie.

“Darren,” Sandy hissed. “Get your ass over here and be involved, you jackass.”

Darren looked uncomfortable at that. “He’s not—he wasn’t talking about me—”

“Shut up,” Charlie said. “You’re as much a part of this as they are. Get your ass over here if this has to happen.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice.

“If anyone looks out here,” Corey whispered, “they’ll probably think we’re attacking Charlie.”

“We are,” Sandy said. “We’re attacking him with our love.”

“Love attacks are the best kind,” I said.

“Yeah, they are,” Vince said, leering at me.

“I regret all of you,” Darren said.

“No you don’t,” Charlie said.

“Is this normal?” Robert asked from behind us.

We reluctantly broke apart.

“Unfortunately,” Charlie said, even though he was fighting a smile. “You get used to it.”

“Good to know.” He looked at us again. “I apologize for the interruption. It seems I’d forgotten to take my Plavix today, and my son was going to drop a pill by for me. I had a minor heart event last year, and I have to keep on a regimen prescribed by my doctor. Terrible things, doctors are. So demanding.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, wondering if Charlie had met this son yet. By the look on his face, he hadn’t.

This was awesome.

“Oh, I’m fine,” he said. “Just one of those things. More precautionary than anything else. I hope you don’t mind if he pops in a quick moment. I promise he won’t stay very long.”

“Don’t worry about it. He can stay as long as—”

“There you are, Dad.”

I looked over Robert’s shoulder to see a man that was almost the spitting image of his father. He wasn’t as slender, and his dark hair was full as was his beard, but he had the same green eyes, the same crooked grin. He wore a pair of khakis and a sweater vest and glasses, the frames thick and black. He looked to be older than us, probably in his mid to late thirties.

He was hot, in a nerdy professor kind of way, the type who looked wholesome but would probably just be a motherfucking freak in the bed.

So imagine my surprise, then, when nerdy professor turned out to actually be a professor.

And imagine my even bigger surprise when nerdy professor said, “Corey! What are you doing here?”

And then Corey squeaked, “Professor Olsen?”

We all turned slowly to stare at him.

And Corey was blushing. Just like Charlie had been.

No.

Fucking.

Way.

“You two know each other?” Robert asked, sounding confused.

“Yes,” Nerdy (and suddenly extremely interesting) Professor said. “I had Corey last semester in one of my graduate psych classes. His work was… brilliant, if I may speak candidly.”

“It’s not… it wasn’t… thank you,” Corey said, sounding flustered. “Um. You. Are here.”

“Sorry,” Professor Olsen said with a wince. “Just needed to bring Dad his meds.” He shot Robert a glare. “That he forgot. Again.”

“It happens,” Robert said airily. “It won’t kill me to miss one, Jeremy. You know this.”

Professor Jeremy Olsen. Who Corey was blushing over.

“Well, just don’t forget next time and I won’t have to crash a wedding,” Jeremy said. “And notice how I am not asking anything about your fella there, even though you haven’t introduced me.”

Robert held out his hand.

Jeremy dropped a little pill into it.

“You can stay,” I blurted out. “It’s… everything is winding down, but you can stay if you’d like. My new hubby and I don’t mind, do we, hubby?”

“I thought we were getting out of here to go—Ow, that was your elbow. Nope. We don’t mind at all.” Vince rubbed his stomach and glared at me.

“Thank you,” Jeremy said. “But I am afraid I must decline. I have classes to prepare for next week that I’m already behind on. Work never ends.”

“Are you sure,” Corey asked, sounding strained. “You could… have some… stuff. Here.”

Some stuff? Sandy mouthed at me, eyes wide.

Jeremy smiled at him, eyes soft. “I would like to, but I really must be going.”

“Okay,” Corey said faintly. “I could… walk you out?”

“Was that a question?” Jeremy asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Corey said. “I mean no. Yes? No. I was telling you. But you can still say no. Like it was a question. You don’t have to do—”

“Sure, Corey,” Jeremy said. “That’d be… nice.”

And Corey almost tripped over his own feet as he moved forward. I couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came out, and he glared at me, but I didn’t give two shits.

Because our little Corey had a motherfucking crush on a teacher. His teacher.

And it was glorious.

“Um,” Corey said. “I’ll be right back.”

“It was nice to see you all,” Jeremy said. “And Dad, maybe bring your gentleman friend to dinner soon, huh? I’d like to meet him formally.”

“Get out of here, you rapscallion,” Robert said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jeremy nodded and turned, Corey trailing after him.

We stared after them.

“Did that really just happen?” I asked finally.

“He told me he was swooning over a professor,” Sandy said, sounding just as shocked. “I just never thought I’d actually meet him.”

“What a good day for love,” Vince said, leaning over and pressing a hard kiss to my lips.

“You should have run when you had the chance,” Darren told Robert. “Because now, you’re never getting out. Especially since these two are involved.”

“I’m sorry for whatever is going to happen,” Charlie said.

Sandy and I ignored them. “Robert,” Sandy said. “Is your son single?”

“He is,” Robert said, lips quirking.

“And does he like penis?” I asked.

“He’s bisexual if that’s what you’re asking.”

Sandy and I grinned at each other. “Robert,” I said. “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“Here we go again,” Charlie muttered.

VINCE FREDDIE Prinze Juniored me four times that night.

We almost broke the bed.

And when he woke up the next morning, blinking slowly at me, a sleepy smile on his face, I said, “Good morning, Mr. Auster.”

Which led to a fifth time.

I didn’t walk straight for a week.

Being married fucking rocked.

More from TJ Klune

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Paul Auster doesn’t. Paul doesn’t believe in much at all. He’s thirty, slightly overweight, and his best features are his acerbic wit and the color commentary he provides as life passes him by. His closest friends are a two-legged dog named Wheels and a quasibipolar drag queen named Helena Handbasket. He works a dead-end job in a soul-sucking cubicle, and if his grandmother’s homophobic parrot insults him one more time, Paul is going to wring its stupid neck.

Enter Vince Taylor.

Vince is everything Paul isn’t: sexy, confident, and dumber than the proverbial box of rocks. And for some reason, Vince pursues Paul relentlessly. Vince must be messing with him, because there is no way Vince could want someone like Paul.

But when Paul hits Vince with his car—in a completely unintentional if-he-died-it’d-only-be-manslaughter kind of way—he’s forced to see Vince in a whole new light. The only thing stopping Paul from believing in Vince is himself—and that is one obstacle Paul can’t quite seem to overcome. But when tragedy strikes Vince’s family, Paul must put aside any notions he has about himself and stand next to the man who thinks he’s perfect the way he is.

Sequel to Tell Me It’s Real

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Sanford Stewart sure doesn’t. In fact, he pretty much believes in the exact opposite, thanks to the Homo Jock King. It seems Darren Mayne lives for nothing more than to create chaos in Sandy’s perfectly ordered life, just for the hell of it. Sandy despises him, and nothing will ever change his mind.

Or so he tells himself.

It’s not until the owner of Jack It—the club where Sandy performs as drag queen Helena Handbasket—comes to him with a desperate proposition that Sandy realizes he might have to put his feelings about Darren aside. Because Jack It will close unless someone can convince Andrew Taylor, the mayor of Tucson, to keep it open.

Someone like Darren, the mayor’s illegitimate son.

The foolproof plan is this: seduce Darren and push him to convince his father to renew Jack It’s contract with the city.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Gustavo Tiberius is not normal. He knows this. Everyone in his small town of Abby, Oregon, knows this. He reads encyclopedias every night before bed. He has a pet ferret called Harry S. Truman. He owns a video rental store that no one goes to. His closest friends are a lady named Lottie with drag queen hair and a trio of elderly Vespa riders known as the We Three Queens.

Gus is not normal. And he’s fine with that. All he wants is to be left alone.

Until Casey, an asexual stoner hipster and the newest employee at Lottie’s Lattes, enters his life. For some reason, Casey thinks Gus is the greatest thing ever. And maybe Gus is starting to think the same thing about Casey, even if Casey is obsessive about Instagramming his food.

But Gus isn’t normal and Casey deserves someone who can be. Suddenly wanting to be that someone, Gus steps out of his comfort zone and plans to become the most normal person ever.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

In the small mountain town of Amorea, it’s stretching toward autumn of 1954. The memories of a world at war are fading in the face of a prosperous future. Doors are left unlocked at night, and neighbors are always there to give each other a helping hand.

The people here know certain things as fact:

Amorea is the best little town there is.

The only good Commie is a dead Commie.

The Women’s Club of Amorea runs the town with an immaculately gloved fist.

And bookstore owner Mike Frazier loves that boy down at the diner, Sean Mellgard. Why they haven’t gotten their acts together is anybody’s guess. It may be the world’s longest courtship, but no one can deny the way they look at each other.

Slow and steady wins the race, or so they say.

But something’s wrong with Mike. He hears voices in his house late at night. There are shadows crawling along the walls and great clouds of birds overhead that only he can see.

Something’s happening in Amorea. And Mike will do whatever he can to keep the man he loves.

Ox was twelve when his daddy taught him a very valuable lesson. He said that Ox wasn’t worth anything and people would never understand him. Then he left.

Ox was sixteen when he met the boy on the road, the boy who talked and talked and talked. Ox found out later the boy hadn’t spoken in almost two years before that day, and that the boy belonged to a family who had moved into the house at the end of the lane.

Ox was seventeen when he found out the boy’s secret, and it painted the world around him in colors of red and orange and violet, of Alpha and Beta and Omega.

Ox was twenty-three when murder came to town and tore a hole in his head and heart. The boy chased after the monster with revenge in his bloodred eyes, leaving Ox behind to pick up the pieces.

It’s been three years since that fateful day—and the boy is back. Except now he’s a man, and Ox can no longer ignore the song that howls between them.

When TJ KLUNE was eight, he picked up a pen and paper and began to write his first story (which turned out to be his own sweeping epic version of the video game Super Metroid—he didn’t think the game ended very well and wanted to offer his own take on it. He never heard back from the video-game company, much to his chagrin). Now, over two decades later, the cast of characters in his head have only gotten louder. But that’s okay, because he’s recently become a full-time writer and can give them the time they deserve.

Since being published, TJ has won the Lambda Literary Award for Best Gay Romance, fought off three lions that threatened to attack him and his village, and was chosen by Amazon as having written one of the best GLBT books of 2011.

And one of those things isn’t true.

(It’s the lion thing. The lion thing isn’t true.)

Facebook: TJ Klune

Blog: tjklunebooks.com

E-mail: tjklunebooks@yahoo.com

By TJ Klune

Burn

How to Be a Normal Person

Into This River I Drown

John & Jackie

The Lightning-Struck Heart

Murmuration

Wolfsong

AT FIRST SIGHT

Tell Me It’s Real

The Queen & the Homo Jock King

Until You

BEAR, OTTER, AND THE KID CHRONICLES

Bear, Otter, and the Kid

Who We Are

The Art of Breathing

Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Published by

DREAMSPINNER PRESS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA

www.dreamspinnerpress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Until You

© 2017 TJ Klune.

Cover Art

© 2017 Reese Dante.

http://www.reesedante.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

Wedding Invitation by Reese Dante

http://www.reesedante.com

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63533-336-7

Published February 2017

v. 1.0

Printed in the United States of America