Page 41 of Stags

“I got so drunk that I actually vomited,” said Athos.

“I took some doe’s virginity and she ran from me in the middle of the night,” said Bruin.

Both Athos and Stockton turned to take the older buck in.

Bruin cast his gaze heavenward. “It was wrong, and I knew it. She was young. She was far too young for me, but there was a sort of spark between us, and then she said this phenomenally ridiculously forward sexy-as-hell thing to me, and I lost my head.”

“What did she say?” said Athos.

“She said, something like, ‘If you’re not busy right now, do you want to fuck me?’”

Athos’s eyes widened.

Stockton snorted.

All three of them dissolved into guffaws that slid into deep-bellied laughs. It lasted for a while. When they were done, Athos was wiping tears from his eyes.

“I don’t think that was wrong,” Athos said. “If that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.”

Bruin ran a hand through the top of his long black hair, between his antlers. “Well, she seemed willing, let’s say that. And I thought… I am positive I pleased her, but… then I woke up and she wasn’t there, and she did tell me that it was her first time. And here’s the thing. If that were my niece or something, that is not the way I would want her to be, erm, deflowered. It’s not a nice thing for a girl that young. I think I took advantage, and I know better.”

Athos shrugged. “Well, but isn’t that kind of patronizing? It’s her own body, it’s her own life. If that’s what she wants to choose for herself, who are you to say you know better than her.”

“Because she didn’t know what she was asking for or what she was choosing, and I, in fact, did know better,” said Bruin, rueful.

Everyone was silent.

Athos looked back and forth between the other two bucks. Would this be what it was like to have a dad? Sharing sexual conquest stories over coffee? It seemed… odd.

“Anyway,” Bruin said with a shrug. “I’ve lost my taste for the entire event, I think. I’m checking out and going home.”

“What?” said Stockton. “You’re leaving me here? If you go, I’m going.”

“You can’t go,” said Bruin, shaking his head at him. “You have to try again, in the morning. It’ll be easier in the light. It all seems more civilized in the morning.”

“I don’t think it does,” said Stockton, shaking his head.

“You watch out for him,” said Bruin to Athos. “Make sure he gets out of his head and takes a risk.”

“I can do that,” said Athos, nodding. “Definitely.”

“I do not need a sex coach to help me,” said Stockton tightly. “This is mortifying.”

“No, you don’t need that, and that’s not what I would do,” said Athos. “I didn’t even make it out there last night. You’re doing better than me. And, you know, it goes without saying that we never talk about this at the firm. No one needs to know we ever did this.”

Stockton regarded him solemnly. “All right, sure. No one needs to know.”

“Is that how you two know each other?” said Bruin.

“Yeah, he interns at my job,” said Athos.

Bruin pointed between the two of them. “There is nothing to be ashamed about in participating in the rite. It’s an ancient and respected tradition that ties us to—”

“Stop it, Bruin,” said Stockton, groaning. “I really don’t need the orientation preached at me right now.”

Athos checked his phone. “Well, the morning run gets started at 10:30, right? So, that gives us an hour and a half or so to kill? Then we’ll go out together. And if it sucks again, we both go.”

Stockton considered. “Yeah?”

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