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Marnus
"Hey, Jerkface. Wanna beer?"
I lift my chin and grin. "I'd love one. Thanks, Dickwad."
"You got it, Loser." Pierce messes up my hair as he walks past us, the scent of his cologne lacing the warm night air.
I let my eyes linger on his tall, broad frame illuminated by the giant beach bonfire. His dark T-shirt stretches to accommodate the wide span of his shoulders, his dark brown hair is swept into a messy bun.
I'm sitting with my friends and colleagues Joel and Firass at the end of a massively long shift at Elysian. We've been on our feet all day, working our asses off to ensure guests are having a great time, so everyone is pooped.
"I'm so confused." Joel leans in once Pierce is out of earshot. "Why do you guys act like you hate each other?"
"It's like their love language or something," Firass answers for me.
I smile because he's totally right. In the six months I've been working at Elysian, Pierce Owen and I have fallen into a funny kind of friendship. The type that makes most staff think we hate each other, but is my idea of a perfectly twisted broship.
"It's demented and twisted," I concede. "But it works."
"What's demented and twisted?" Pierce asks, approaching from behind.
He swings the beer over my shoulder, and I take it from him. Our fingers brush. "Your dick."
Joel makes a choking sound, while Firass just laughs. He's been around Pierce and me the most so he knows this is par for the course for us.
"Hope you choke on your beer," Pierce says with a smile as he makes his way over to the other side of the bonfire. He turns around so he's facing us then karate chops his groin. "Otherwise, I've got something else you can choke on."
I chuckle, and yeah, I can see how our interactions can leave people like Joel a little baffled. Our shit talking is next-level. We wrestle and jostle and bear hug each other one minute, and the next, we're telling each other how stupid the other one is. But then we'll coordinate our schedules and take a week off to go hiking together. Miraculously, no one gets murdered in the wilderness, and we both come back alive.
It must be weird to an observer looking in on it, but for me, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
I've never met anyone I've been able to be like this with. For all my twenty-six years, I've held back. Restrained myself because no one's ever gotten me the way Pierce does.
"You two would make such a great couple," Firass says, breaking into my thoughts. "Too bad you're straight."
I curl my toes into the sand still warm from the heat of the day. Uh, yeah…about that.
Firass and Joel and basically everyone else here are all under the impression that, despite working at an LGBT resort, I'm straight.
An impression based on what I said, since that is how I identify.
Or at least,identified.
"Why is it too bad Marnus is straight?" Joel asks.
I take a sip of my beer, curious to hear how Firass responds.
"Isn't it obvious?" he says, shifting his gaze between me and Pierce. "They're boyfrenemies now, but if Marnus weren’t straight, I bet he and Pierce would totally be a thing."
Joel looks surprised. "Really?"
"Mhmm." Firass shoots me a friendly smile. "I've worked at this resort for five years. Trust me. I can spot chemistry and attraction a mile away. And Marnus and Pierce are basically an explosion waiting to happen."
Are we, though? I shift in my camper chair. "Don't know about that," I answer carefully.
Firass and Joel exchange a look. I have some more beer. Someone starts strumming on a guitar, bringing our conversation to a halt.
