whatever stupid shit you’re fighting about, but I’m not going to be in the middle of it all over again.”
“We’re not fighting over who has a bigger dick. We settled that ages ago the old fashioned way, with a tape measure,” Hudson mumbles, and Leo snorts a laugh before catching himself and fixing his face back into a glare.
I ignore the comment. “I’m going to take a shower, when I get out someone had better have made me some damn coffee. And if there’s going to be a fist fight, try not to break anything.”
I don’t bother to let either of them respond before I slip past Leo and head straight for the bathroom. I toss my fresh clothes down on the sink counter and start the shower, keeping one ear out for any violence as I undress and wait for the water to heat up. If they are fighting, they’re keeping it down and not breaking anything, which is good enough for me at this moment.
I roll my neck, trying to work out the kink that formed from sleeping on the couch. I don’t know how Leo’s neck isn’t killing him after the few days he’s spent out there already. Leaning against the sink, I use my thumb to work out the knot just below the base of my skull, groaning as the sharp pain slowly wanes.
Once the air in the small bathroom grows humid and steamy, I pull back the shower curtain and step inside. As the hot streams of water sluice over my skin, I close my eyes and try to remember the last time the three of us were in the same room together without Leo and Hudson fighting. It had to have been our senior year Homecoming.
My heart gives a small flutter as I’m swamped by long forgotten memories. We’d all agreed to forgo dates, making a pact at the start of senior year that it was a year for making memories with best friends. I was more than happy with that decision since there wasn’t a soul alive who compared to either of them as far as I was concerned. We had all gotten ready for the dance at Hudson’s place, putting on cheap suits—well, Hudson’s likely wasn’t cheap—and laughing together. I can remember Hudson slipping a flask into his pocket and whispering to him that he’d better not get us suspended. I remember the feeling of being sandwiched between the two of them in the dozens of pictures Hudson’s mom insisted on taking, and how right it felt to be there. I can remember the two of them playfully arguing over whose date I was, and how I went home later that night and jerked off to the fantasy that it had all been real, that they could both truly want me.
My cock hardens under my soapy touch, and a small shudder goes through me. I’m not that same shy kid I was back then. I’ve had Hudson’s cock in my mouth and in my ass, I’ve been covered in his cum, and I’ve laid naked and sweaty with him more times than I can count. I’m not sure Sixteen-year-old Bishop would’ve believed that if I could’ve told him. But being Hudson’s favorite warm body is still a far cry from the fantasy that sustained me through my teens.
Riot flashes into my mind, his flirty smiles and flattering words changing the trajectory of my thoughts. I’ve been sleeping with Hudson for years, and he hasn’t fallen in love with me, will it be the same with Riot? Will he even stay in town that long? He mentioned in an offhand way that he moves around a lot, I’m sure I’m nothing more than a fun distraction for a few months until he decides to pick up and move.
My old fantasy of having both Hudson and Leo both looking at me with love and desire morphs to include Riot. As silly and unlikely as it is, the thought of the three of them makes longing grow so large in my chest I can hardly breathe. I don’t mean sex, not that I would turn down an orgy with the three of them, but the four of us laying around watching a movie together. I let myself imagine small, familiar touches and the occasional kiss between inside jokes and the warmth of such simple intimacy. Now that the idea is in my head, I can’t think of anything I could possibly want more.
Leo
Hudson goddamned Bellows.