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“So?”
“So, Whit…” he clears his throat, and I lean closer to intimidate him. “He’s a top, okay? You think you’ll be bending over for him? A guy like you?”
“Doyoubend over for him?” I ask, nearly growling the last part.
Look, I’m mostly a passive guy, but this little shit is making me mad.
“I…” Magnus’ face is beat red, and he’s shaking a little.
“Look, it’s none of your business. None of this is.”
“I know…” Magnus whispers and blinks rapidly.
So this is the kind of guy Whit goes for. Whiny and small and weak. The kind that wears suspenders and bowties.
Shit, I’m totally not his type.
Not that I care. I don’t.
“Don’t cry,” I tell Magnus, who just sniffles next to me. “Look, Whit and I aren’t fucking. I’m not even gay.”
That gets Magnus to stop blubbering. He blinks some more, and then a shocked laugh comes out of him.
“Are you…are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m making a joke?”
He shakes his head vigorously. “No. No. You look very serious. I…well, I’m sorry I assumed.”
“You should be.”
Magnus brightens after that, his pale face gaining some color, his head bobbing as he sits next to me.
“Why are you still here?” I ask him, and he stops moving.
“I don’t know. Guess I’m just lonely.”
His honesty is something I can admire. Most men can’t admit that kind of thing.
I side-eye this little dweeb and then do something I probably shouldn’t.
“Want to come hang out?”
This gets Magnus sputtering for a few seconds.
“Hang out…you mean….” His voice trails off, and I roll my eyes.
“I do not want to fuck you, little dude. I’d split you in half.”
His eyes widen, and then he shakes his head before nodding. “I’m…okay, yes, we can hang out, but just so you know…I’m very insulted.”
I raise an eyebrow, “Why?”
“Because I’m a size queen.”
“What the hell is that?” I grumble, and he turns beet red.
“I…well, I prefer large…you know.”
