Page 111 of The Frathole
Lance chucks a piece cut off a two-by-four into the dumpster, then bows forward. “Oh…I think Ty and I might’ve gone on a little long last night. Really got him to hammer me.”
I cringe. “I really would prefer not to think about the two of you fucking.”
“What’s the point of you being queer if we can’t talk about stuff like this? Like, did you ever think that bottoming in missionary would be such a good core workout?”
I have to laugh because it’s true and not something I would’ve considered before fucking around with Ryan, but now I know how well it works the abs, something I can tell some of the people at the pool notice these days.
“Topping apparently works out the glutes more than you’d think too,” I observe.
“Not something I’d know anything about,” he points out.
He’s mentioned he prefers to bottom, but now I have to ask, “So you two never like…trade off?”
He shrugs. “Nah. He’s very happy to give me that dick, and I’m happy to give him this ass. Seems to work out. But if he wanted to try, I’d be down to give it a go. I bet I’d be a good top.” At my cringe, he says, “Okay, you don’t get to ask questions like that and then be grossed out when I answer.”
He’s got a point there.
“Speaking of knowing too much about each other’s sex lives, you heard from Ash and Colin?”
“Yeah, they’re having a blast in Chicago. They keep going out to this place…Steamworks. Sounds like they enjoy it.”
“I’m sure a lot of people are enjoying watching them enjoy it.”
We share a laugh.
“What about you guys?” he asks. “How’s this new relationship thing going?”
The way he drags out the question, I can tell he’s pressing cautiously, like he knows something’s up. And I doubt I’m hiding it very well. “Why would you ask it like that?”
Lance’s brows tug closer together. “Um…A: you’re one of my best friends and you seem off. And B: the way you just answered me sounds like you’re hiding a body under these boards.” He smirks playfully, clearly trying to cheer me up. Not while Ryan’s still this on edge. “Is this about the stuff with his parents?” he presses.
Ryan talked to Ty and Lance about his conversation with his parents, but I still feel like talking to Lance about this might be betraying his confidence.
“It’s healthy to talk to your friends about stuff that’s bothering you,” he reminds me. “But if we can’t talk about that, I can talk to you about how Ty prefers to fuck me.”
His attempt at cheering me up finally cracks through my armor. “I’ll pass on the latter. And as for Ryan, it’s been rough for him. I honestly don’t know how to cheer him up. He’s in a lot of pain, and it’s hard to see, you know?”
We glance over at Ryan, still hammering away on the roof. Seems like Dax is trying to tell him a joke, but Ryan forces a halfhearted smile. Such a simple thing, but it tears at my fucking soul.
Ryan finishes up on the panel he’s nailing into the frame before moving on to the other side of the roof, out of sight.
Lance turns to me with a sympathetic expression. “He just needs some time.”
I know, but saying that to myself a million times isn’t going to get rid of the anxiety that’s all twisted up inside me.
“He’ll be fine,” I say, surely sounding as fake as Ryan looked when he smiled at Dax. “Anyway, we’re heading over to see my parents after this. You and Ty wanna join us?”
“Aw, we already made plans with my parents tonight, but give me a heads-up next time, and we’ll make sure of it.”
I’m relieved to hear him say that because even though we’ve graduated, I wanna keep hanging with my guys.
Lance and I finish up with the debris in the wheelbarrow, and we’re about to start back to the house to help the other guys when a loudclangfills the air, followed by, “Holy fuck!” from Ryan.
A primal instinct kicks in, and one moment I’m standing next to Lance, and the next I’m running, searching for Ryan. I can’t geta good view of him yet, but I hear him grunting. He’s hurt. The walk around the house, to the ladder, feels like an eternity.
“Ry?” I call out for the tenth time to no response.
I finally reach the ladder and climb up. He’s surrounded by the guys, even Miles, whose face is locked in a concerned expression. And it sure as fuck can’t be good if that guy gives a flying fuck about what happened to my boyfriend.
