Quentin’s brow came together. “Are you calling me a liar, Wyman?” “I’m saying the story doesn’t add up. Eric was sucking off a bunch
of straight guys against their will? How does that work? If some guy put
your dick in his mouth, would you get hard?”
“A mouth is a mouth,” one of the brothers shouted with a cackle. “Just put a wig on the faggot,” another said. “Or a paper bag with a
hole in it.”
Tim ignored them, still holding Quentin’s glare. “Well, would you
get hard?”
“Hell no!” Quentin snarled.
“There you go. The story is bullshit, so stop bad-mouthing him.” Face red, Quentin stared long and hard at Tim before he spoke.
“You’re lucky I’m your Big. Now get back out there and finish the list.” “Fine.”
“Hey,” Quentin called after him.
Tim turned around. “Yeah?”
“Good job getting the queer’s money.”
Tim shook his head and left, the chorus of laughter drowned out by
the drumming in his ears. What an asshole! What sucked most is that
Quentin could be so cool. He had sponsored Tim during the rush, acting
as his Big. This meant he helped Tim, his Little, get through and avoid
the early pitfalls new brothers are tricked into. Quentin did it mostly
because Tim was a legacy, but he could be a warm and protective guy. Except, apparently, when it came to this. Tim wanted to believe that Quentin was only harping on Eric because he had been kicked out, but
the homophobic slurs were impossible to ignore.
Quentin had met Eric once and seen how nice he was, which made
Tim even angrier. He couldn’t tolerate ignorance like that. Not since
Ben. What if Quentin had been talking about Ben just now? Or Travis,
who had overheard everything and was no doubt freaking out. Tim hurried back to their room, which was empty, then checked out
the rest of the house. Only when Tim walked out into the yard did he
spot Travis sitting morosely on the curb.
“People talk shit,” Tim said, standing behind him. “It comes with the
territory.”
Travis didn’t respond.
Tim’s patience exhausted, he left to get the car. Then he took Travis