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“I don’t need to get laid,” I say shyly. This is my chance. I could tell him what was going on. How I’ve fallen for Whitley and that I’m low-key freaking the fuck out about how all of them are going to react.
“Sure,” he scoffs, “if that isn’t it, whatever. Something is going on. What is it?”
I want to tell him, but him being mad at me or thinking less of me scares me. I know that I shouldn’t because he supports Turd. He helps any of the queer kids that come to the ranch, but there is that nagging voice in the back of my head that is whispering. Stupid dickhead voice. I open my mouth, and when nothing comes out, I shake my head.
Zombie sighs and leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Alright, man. I didn’t want to go this route.” He lets out a deep breath before turning his face to mine and looking me in the eye. “What I don’t get is why you went to Turd for help. Why didn’t you come to me when you realized that you had fallen for a man? Yeah, sure, Turd’s gay, but fuck Knuckles. I’m your best fucking friend. Why didn’t you come to me?”
I can only look at him with my eyes wide. “How? Did…did Turd tell you?”
“That’s what you’re asking? No. No, Turd didn’t tell me. You should have told me. I don’t get why you didn’t.”
“I didn’t know how you would react,” I whisper. I can’t look at him as I say it either, so when he gets up to sit next to me, I don’t even know until his arms are wrapped around me, and my head crashes to his shoulder.
“How could you think that I would be anything but supportive?”
“I don’t even understand it. I’ve never felt this way before about a man. I’ve never wanted someone like this. If I don’t even understand what’s happening, how can I expect anyone else to? Is it fair of me? No, probably not. But I have this voice in the back of my mind that’s telling me the ones that mean the most are going to abandon me.”
“Tell that voice it’s a cuntbag.”
I can’t help but bust out laughing at how serious he is when he delivers that line. I shake my head because while I know he is right, and I have tried to tell that voice off more than once, there is still that irrational part of me that thinksit’sright. But hearing him side with Turd and the rational part of me makes it much easier to silence it.
“Okay, I will. But there is some stuff, real stuff, that puts some doubt that you will welcome him with open arms.” I shrug, sitting in my desk chair while he sprawled out on my couch.
“Okay,” he stretched out the word. “I find that hard to believe. If you love him, we’ll love him. It’s what we do.” Zombie states as if I’m the stupidest person out there.
“Well, these reasons are why we have agreed he will not be around you guys and why we want to keep it on the down low for the time being.” I fiddle with my fingers, scared to look at him.
“Well, it’s new, and you are getting used to being with a man. While my opinion doesn’t matter in the end, it’s more than okay that you take some time for the two of you before spreading the love. I get that. That’s all you really needed to tell me. I will respect that much. But I will need you to tell me the truth on this one thing.”
Zombie sits up and hugs a couch pillow to his face. He takes a deep breath and hides his face in the pillow, almost like he is steeling himself to ask his question. This has me on edge, and I feel my gut drop. Turd didn’t tell him. Does that mean he overheard us? Did he hear the part about Whitley being a cop? Is he going to ask me to confirm and then freak out on me? The cuntbag voice is back and planting all the seeds of doubt in my head.
“Knuckles, I need you to tell me the god’s honest truth, are you the top or the bottom?” There was so much conviction and will behind that one loaded question. So much so that I think he really does want to know. I started to laugh because, of fucking course, he would ask me this. Then, I realize what pillow he is hugging and rubbing on his face, and my laugh becomes a boisterous cackle. He looks at me like I have two heads, and I do what I can to calm down so I can talk.
“I’m waiting. You gonna calm your ass down enough to tell me?”
Oh, now he’s gonna get it. I take a few deep breaths and get myself in check. Then, with as serious of a face I can muster, I look him dead in the eye. “We have only slept together once, and it was there where you’re sitting. I drilled into his ass hard and fast while it was perched up on top of that pillow you have on your face.” I try to school my features as the words I speak sink in.
“My man!” he shouts as he reaches for the high five then it drops. Pure horror and disgust hit, and his face morphs. He launches the pillow across the room, hitting something on the coffee table and causing the cats to scatter. He starts gagging and rushing around the living room like he doesn’t know what to do. He’s panicking and asking where to go to clean his face. I am laughing too hard to tell him I have since washed that pillow, and he had little to fear. But that’s what he gets for wanting to know. I fall out of my chair, holding my sides, as I hear him book it into my bathroom and crank the shower on.
“Oh man,” I choke out, looking at the cats, who I am sure think we have lost our minds. “This is gonna be fun.”
A couple of minutes later, Zombie comes out of the bathroom. I can’t help but smile at him for being so damn ridiculous.
“You’re something else. You know that?”
“I had your cumdumpsta pillow all over my face. No, I’m not.”
“Dude, I fucking washed it. Oil’s a mess. But that’s not what’s important. What is,” I take a moment. Turd said that he wouldn’t tell, but I needed to make sure. “How did you know?”
Zombie lets out a breath as he places his hands on his hips and looks up at the ceiling. “You seemed off, and I could tell something was wrong. Once you and Turd were in church, I was able to get the door open enough to listen.”
“You what?” I shout, shooting up from my seat. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re my best fucking friend, and something was seriously wrong with you! It wasfucking obvious that something was gonna happen, and all I could think about was everything that could go wrong. Was it fucked of me to do what I did? Yes. Do I regret it? Never. I’ll always do what I can to make sure you’re okay. I fucking love you, man.”
I shake my head and walk over to him. I want to be mad at him, but he’s right. I was acting weird, and he could see it. So, instead of being pissed, I’m grateful to have someone that loves me so much. I wrap my arms around him, and he hugs me back.
“I love you too, brother.”
