Chapter 9 Go All Out
Go All Out
Teague parks his truck by the curb, hops out, and saunters up to the front door of the squatty house at the end of the street. He tugs on his vest, fluffs up his fake chest hair, and gives his nuts a subtle adjustment in his tight shorts before finally ringing the doorbell.
Gracie answers. “Hey, Tea—! Uh …”
Her happy face collapses as her stunned eyes land on the pair of plastic goat horns protruding from his head, then drop to his chest, where a fake tuft of hair protrudes from a half-open suit vest, and finally down to the pair of skintight purple athletic shorts that leave literally nothing to the imagination.
A hairy tail droops out of the back of them, matching the color of his fake chest hair, and he holds a plastic flute.
“Hey, Gracie! Where’s your costume?” he teases as he steps past her, coming inside. The front door opens immediately to the living room, where the others—Zeke, Deena, Bernie, and Liam—are hanging out around the couch.
All of their eyes fall on him. Whatever conversation they were in the middle of is stopped instantly.
“Yes, I know, I know,” says Teague, giving his flute a dramatic twirl in the air like a baton, then tapping it to his chest. “Y’all are stunned by my beauty. It’s not every day you’re in the presence of greatness. Take it in. Every inch.”
“Uh … yeah,” says Zeke in his deep voice, “we’re … taking in every inch … of your manhood, on full display in those tight-ass things. What the f—?”
“I just felt like being fancy.” Teague twirls his flute expertly between his fingers as he struts into the living room. He’s certain everyone’s eyes are still on his junk. He was counting on that. The vest cuts off at his waist, which pretty much leaves nothing to cover his cock or his ass cheeks.
But it isn’t Zeke’s gawping, Deena’s staring, nor Bernie’s awkward don’t-know-where-to-look-at expression that Teague was going for, showing up in costume like this.
It’s the look on Liam’s face right now as he stares straight at Teague’s eyes, as if defying the temptation to look anywhere else. It’s a look that seems equally amazed and annoyed at how cool Teague is acting, despite being fooled into thinking this was some big costume party.
Of course Teague was never fooled. He knew right away Liam was messing with him. The plan was always to play along, go all out on a costume, and earn the very look Liam is giving him right now. Mission accomplished.
It makes the trip to the dollar store after work worth it.
And hopefully makes up for earlier today.
“I can … see your balls, dude,” mutters Zeke in a mixture of repulsion and awe, unable to look away. Bernie is still trying to find anything else in the room to look at. “Like, both of them.”
Deena is perplexed. “What even are you?”
Teague is about to answer her when Liam cuts in with, “He’s a satyr,” in a tone that suggests he’s anything but impressed.
Liam’s quick identification of the costume surprises Teague, especially considering the makeshift, dollar-store nature of it.
His answer doesn’t help Deena. “And … what’s a … ‘satyr’ …?”
Liam gestures at Teague carelessly. “Flute, goat horns, furry chest. It’s the only thing he can be.” He appears thoughtful for a second. Then annoyed. Then thoughtful again. “Half goat and half human. They’re friends with nymphs. All of them are male and horny all the time.”
“What?” mutters Zeke, still staring at Teague’s balls.
Liam meets Teague’s eyes again, squinting with curiosity. “Or were you going for the specific god of Pan with this getup …?”
Now it’s Teague whose undivided attention is captured. It’s like Liam is in his mind right now, and no thought can be hidden.
He’d pay a pretty penny to learn how Liam’s feeling right now.
But before Teague can reply, Gracie returns to the room with a plate of cookies no one realized she was fetching.
“Alright, I know this is the real reason y’all came over,” she sings in her dry voice, likely trying to distract everyone from the near-blinding sight of Teague’s balls as she sets the plate on the table in front of the couch.
Zeke and Bernie instantly dive in. Deena still seems to be troubled by the logistics of a half-goat-half-human creature.
“If you guys can take a break from ogling Teague’s costume, tell me what you think of my gingersnaps. I tried something different.”
Soon, Teague is freed from the spotlight and becomes just another person hanging out in front of Gracie’s big TV with a plate of cookies, bowls of popcorn, and cans of soda.
Gracie and Deena have a lot of history together in the Theatre department, so the pair of them dominate the conversation in the room, laughing and shouting over each other as they recall a crazy mishap involving two seniors being locked out of the dressing room naked in the middle of a performance.
Zeke and Bernie have their own convo going on, but Teague can’t catch what it’s about.
Not that he cares. He’s on the couch squeezed right up next to Liam, whose face is frustratingly unreadable.
He can’t tell if Liam’s listening to Gracie and Deena’s stories or if he’s lost in his own world.
Liam keeps checking his phone every few minutes, giving the impression he’s already itching to go.
No one is paying a lick of attention to the late-night talk show on TV.
Teague notices his own leg bouncing in place. He really wants to strike up a chat with Liam, but what can they talk about that won’t make everything worse? The only things that roll through his mind are Spruce, their trip to the ranch, and apologizing again.
Considering the half-lidded, bored way Liam keeps looking at everything, he appears to be over this party—but hopefully not over him. Is it even worth it to try striking up a conversation? Or are his chances truly blown after today?
When Liam checks his phone for a twenty-third time, Teague finally gives in. “Waiting on your booty call to hit you up?” he asks with half a chuckle.
Liam squints at nothing in particular. “Huh?”
Stupid joke. Really stupid. He shouldn’t have said it.
Why did he say it? He’s so much cleverer than that.
“Never mind.” Teague clears his throat and shuffles his feet.
“Hey, uh … so what did you really think of my costume? I knew you were messing with me, by the way, when you said this was a costume thing. I just can’t back down from a challenge, know what I mean? ”
Liam seems to struggle with that. “It … wasn’t a challenge.”
Teague lifts an eyebrow. “Really? What was it then? An effort to humiliate me?” He leans in closer to Liam.
With how close they already are, he’s now pressed up against his side with nowhere to escape.
“You gotta know by now, I am un-humiliate-able. Still, it’s kinda cute that you tried. And … maybe I deserved it a little.”
Liam lifts his face and gives Teague a confused, tortured look.
Literally an inch between their lips.
Between their noses.
Their eyes.
They could literally kiss right now. They basically already are. Just a nudge from someone on the couch will force their lips to touch, even without their permission. It’s basic physics. Gravity. A natural magnetic pull between bodies.
Is that sexual tension Teague feels? It can’t be an illusion.
Something is churning between them, Teague is certain. That must be why Liam is so resistant. So annoyed and hot all the time when it comes to Teague. If it wasn’t true, Liam would have turned away or left the couch by now.
Not to mention what he said earlier—about Teague being evil and playing with Liam’s feelings. Or whatever wording he used. Why would he say that if there weren’t feelings already there to be played with? Did Teague hear him right? Is he overthinking it?
Teague’s heart takes a leap.
He’s going to kiss Liam. Right now. He’s going to kiss Liam on the mouth, sweetly, like an experiment, a toe in the water, just to finally break this unnecessary and unbearable tension that’s been clearly driving the two of them crazy.
And if he’s wrong and all of this is in his head, well, he can just blame being a horny satyr.
But for some inexplicable reason, it’s then that Gracie chooses to selectively hear something Teague just said. “Wait. Challenge? Did you just mention the straight face challenge?”
“Ooh,” sings Deena, clapping. “I love that game.”
“Game?” asks Teague, looking at each of them. “Straight face what?”
“You’ve never played?? It’s so much fun!
” cries Gracie. “It’s a Theatre focusing thing.
Look, I’ll play a round with Deena right now.
It’s basically a staring contest, except you can blink, but you can’t smile.
Watch.” She sits down on the coffee table across from Deena’s chair, and the two lock eyes.
All the conversation in the room halts as they stare at each other.
Gracie’s eyes grow so large, her expression turns funny.
In a matter of fifteen seconds, Deena’s straight face breaks and she lets out a belt of laughter.
“I win!” cries Gracie. “See? It’s harder than it looks. ”
“Dude, that’s easy,” says Zeke. “Y’all Theatre nerds are weird. Bernie, dude, let’s go.”
“Let’s go!” agrees Bernie with a smack of his hands together, then the two lock eyes and try their own round. Bernie only lasts half a minute before he suddenly can’t take it and looks away. “Okay, that’s more intense than I expected. Can’t do it. Nope.”
All four of them turn expectantly to Teague and Liam.
Teague suddenly realizes what’s being asked of them in the ringing silence. “Oh, uh …” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “No, it’s alright. I wouldn’t put Liam through staring at my scary-ass eyes. Besides, I have goat horns on my head. Satyrs are horny bastards, remember?”
To Teague’s surprise, however, it’s Liam who says: “Why not? Scared you’ll lose?”
Teague turns to him, eyebrows lifted. “That … sure sounds like a gauntlet’s being thrown.”