epilogue
“Okay. On the count of three: Lick. Take. Suck. You ready? One…two…three!”
It still stung when Ethan downed tequila. He would never fully get used to the burning in his throat and the expanding pit of nausea that formed in his stomach. Maybe that was for the best. If he liked alcohol too much, that could be problematic.
None of his drinking buddies seemed to be a fan of tequila either. Greg and Lorna pinched their faces into tight little balls as they sucked on the lime. Ethan wondered if he looked as ridiculous making the same expression.
“Dude, what kind of shit is this? This is not the good shit,” Greg said, flicking the puffy ball of his Santa hat out of his eyes. He tossed his spent lime wedge into the trash.
“It’s just as good,” Sahil said. He shifted his eyes at the bar. Nobody believed him for a second. Greg charged to the booze stash and pulled out a clear bottle with a sticker of a big-breasted Mexican woman stuck to it.
“Cumshaka? What the fuck is that?”
Sahil pretended to act all sophisticated. “Well, sir, it’s a brand of alcohol distilled in the ‘I spent like crazy this semester and my bank account is hovering around zero, bitch!’ region.”
“Tough life you have,” Lorna said. “Guess you’ll just have to resort to selling your body for money.”
“Now who would ever pay for that?” Ethan asked.
Sahil sidled up to Greg and swung his leg onto his lap. “Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind.”
Greg threw his leg off just as quickly. Lorna fell into Ethan’s chest from laughing as cheesy Christmas songs blared on the stereo.
Ethan loved this—plain and simple. Ever since the incident at the football stadium, Greg had begun the coming out process. He told a few of his brothers, and they seemed to take it well. Ethan waited for reports from the frat trenches, and so far, Greg hadn’t come to him with any bruises or horror stories. The guys were supportive, if a little freaked out at the thought of gay sex happening in their house. Greg had been surprised at the outcome.
“They’re your brothers for a reason,” Ethan had told him. “Not just because you all pay dues.”
Even Greg’s parents were mildly cool with his gayness. He’d told his parents about his teaching aspirations and dating Ethan in the same phone call, figuring the shock of being gay would dull the pain about not going to law school. He was wrong. His dad was more pissed about his career change than his sexuality change. Mostly because he really liked Ethan. Justice Sanderson could at least still talk shop with one of the boys on future visits. His mother regaled Ethan with a tale about catching Greg in her high heels when he was four. He had never seen Greg’s face get so red.
Families were fun.
People close to Greg kept surprising him. Ethan reminded him that not everybody was as transparent as he assumed.
“I am feeling sufficiently buzzed,” Lorna said. She wiped the remnants of the shot off her lips and sipped on the Sex on the Beach Sahil had made for her. “Let’s rejoin the festivities downstairs.”
“Why don’t we just start our own party right here?” Sahil shuffled his hips to the music, getting closer to Lorna. He managed to turn “Deck the Halls” into a Barry White jam.
“Because I need a dance floor!” Lorna grooved out the door.
Ethan hoped that they would get together. He saw the look in Sahil’s eyes when they flirted like this. To Lorna, it was all fun. Not so for Sahil. Ethan caught a spark between them, a charged energy. Lorna insisted that they’d only had drunken hookups and she was happy being friends. We’ll see.
Lorna and Sahil danced through the hall to the staircase with Ethan and Greg as their soberer companions. They made their way into the mash of coeds on the first floor. The flashing red and green lights by the DJ booth called out to them. Ethan had invited Jessica, Dave, and Anna tonight, but they’d politely declined. They all had gone out for dinner last week, and Ethan considered it a mild success. No fights, no backhanded comments about the Greek system, no awkward silences, but also no insta-friend breakthroughs. While Ethan had wished that all his friends could be friends with each other and form this friend soup he could swim in, he was fine floating between groups. He preferred floating to chaining himself to one social circle.
The music raged on, and Ethan’s hips could not refrain from swaying. Greg grabbed his button-down shirt and pulled him into his chest. There was no other place Ethan wanted to be. He breathed in Greg’s scent, felt his fingers close in around his waist. They grinded to the music, their bodies moving as one to the beat. This time, Ethan was in the center of the dance floor, part of the action. No more wallflower life for him. Greg leaned down and kissed him, and Ethan tasted bits of lime on his tongue.
Greg’s stare penetrated through every layer he had on, giving Ethan chills. How does he do this? How can he make me forget that we’re in the middle of a crowded room? When you care about someone so much, they can make the world around you disappear.
Everyone could see them. Uninformed frat brothers and other partygoers rubbernecked at their lovefest. The looks made Ethan shrivel up. He took back what he’d thought. He didn’t like being center of attention. He tried to pull away, but Greg held him there.
“Everyone can see us,” Ethan said.
Greg lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “And they’re all jealous.”
Ethan shot him a curious look. “Since when did you become so invincible?”
“Since I met you.”
Their bodies rubbed closely against each other. Greg’s hands traveled along Ethan’s sides, heat radiating from his firm touch.
Ethan lost himself in the music. Until Greg’s hand brought him back to reality.
It brushed against Ethan’s crotch, getting him hard instantly. His fingers lingered by his zipper. Ethan’s breath caught in his throat.
“So what do you want for Christmas, Folly?”
Lust swirled through Ethan. He ran his hand down Greg’s backside and grabbed his ass. Greg seemed impressed, but Ethan wasn’t done. His hands traveled to Greg’s bulge, stroking the hardness over his jeans. (Yes, jeans. Ethan had insisted he not wear those warm-up pants to a holiday party. Because standards.)
“Oh, just some gift cards.”
Greg worked to keep his cool. Their grinding intensified as he pulled their bodies closer. Ethan was tempted to reach inside Greg’s jeans and grab his real Christmas present.
“You know, my room is only one floor away,” he whispered into Ethan’s ear. That trademark smirk crept up Greg’s face. Ethan would never get tired of it.
“Oh, Greg. Bedrooms are so boring. They’re not us.” Ethan shot back his own devious grin. His ravenous self—his fresher self—pounded at the door, demanding to be let in. “Isn’t there a study room behind the kitchen?”
THE END