Page 30 of A Stealthy Situation

So, instead, I go for the douchey answer. “The coolest thing about hockey is the ice.”

Harrison laughs, because of course he does—the guy laughs at anything. “You’re a twit.”

“Guilty.”

“But maybe so am I because you were right: this sucks.”

Like he’s just given me permission, I dump the trash bag and fall back onto the couch. Harrison joins me.

“How the actual fuck do you guys have parties every week?”

“Well, it’s not, like, every week. We have to make time to study and shit too.”

“Still, if I had to deal with this much cleanup, I’d never have a party, ever.”

“Prez will be up around lunchtime. If it’s not done before he wakes up, then everyone will be dragged from their rooms to pitch in.”

Harrison looks confused. “It doesn’t piss you off that he’s getting a lie-in while you deal with all of this?”

“Nah. We all have our place. Prez and Laurie—our treasurer—would have been up late after the party checking off the takings and notarizing everything. They also run all the meetings and shit that we have to show up to. Most people don’t realize that fraternities answer to a national org. They’re like little businesses. We have a cook who makes a shitload of meals and all that needs to be coordinated. Then there’s rooming, rush, philanthropic events. Just, like … a lot. Prez handles all that. He has members who are also in charge of different things, and next year, I wanna be a Big. I’ve been spending a lot of time with the pledges to prepare for it, and sure, it seems shitty that they’re the ones on cleaning duty, but it’s because they’re so green. They don’t know about all the different responsibilities yet. Their only duty is to do what they’re told, and the rest of us in the house, we’ve been there. We know not to take advantage, and for the few shitheads who step out of line and take things too far, the risk manager and Prez step in.”

“Huh.” Harrison rubs his jaw. “Like your own little social community. Or ecosystem.”

I have no clue what he’s talking about. “Sure.”

“It’s a lot more complex than it looks on the surface.”

“Exactly. But the one thing we all have is brothership. We bond hard. We go through shit together. We know that any guy in this house will have our backs. DIK for life.”

“I still have no idea how a national organization allowed the name DIK.”

“Technically, it’s Delta Iota Kappa.”

“They knew what they were doing.”

Those geniuses sure did. “Eh. Our school is literally FU. It’s on all the sweatshirts. It’s a crime that I don’t have a FUKing DIK hoodie by now.”

“But you’re not a King.”

“I’m not above sucking off the entire football team to make it happen.”

“Talk about jaw cramps.”

I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, trying to tell myself not to tease him but not able to stop myself. “No jaw cramps for me. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

He leans forward, and I’m unsure if he knows he’s done it. “When you say a lot …”

“I’m gay. I’m living away from home, and turns out college is where queer guys get to be free, at least in places like this. There’re gays after their first time, some living uncloseted, others who want to experiment freely as much as possible, and …” I nudge him. “A hell of a lot of straight dudes who want a taste. Present company excluded, of course.”

Harrison frowns. “But … if they’re straight. Why would they want to sleep with a dude?”

“That’s the age-old question, right? Some people try to blow it off and say they’re all secretly bi, but …” It’s hard to put the next part into words without sounding like I don’t care. “Some just really want to know how sex with a dude differs from sex with a chick. Others are open-minded and curious if they’d like it, some dudes think it’s kinky, and the fuckwits of the experimentation world just get off on using gay men. I hate the saying that homophobes are all closeted because it’s like people are excusing them. Giving them a reason. No, some people are just dicks. And those people like to fuck a man to show how much more powerful they are than them. It doesn’t mean they’re queer. I don’t want those people as part of my community. It just means they’re assholes.” And now that I’ve gone off on that tangent, I shoot Harrison a quick smile. “I learned how to avoid those toxic types. In my experience, the straight guys I’ve slept with have been genuinely curious, and I was okay about helping them figure that side of themselves out.”

“I’ve never considered people would do it for that reason. Like … just wanting to know. Being curious. I’ve?—”

He cuts off, and damn do I want to beg him to continue. But while I might still low-key flirt with him, it’s just for fun, and I’m not going to cross any of his boundaries. That door is firmly closed in my mind. So, whatever he cut off is probably not something I want to hear anyway.

“We should keep cleaning,” I say, trying to move the conversation away.

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