Milo #4
Sure, it wasn’t exactly original as nudes went, but that didn’t matter. I was nowhere near a virtuous soul, and quite frankly, I was easily turned on; I could admit that. Add whether there was anything long-term in the relationship between Raf and me; the man was good-looking, especially naked.
Smirking, I hit the button and let it ring. It rang for long enough. I huffed and began to pull it away when his deep, rumbling voice answered. “And how long until I see just how you reacted to my text?”
I chuckled. “Not sure, I’m still here.”
“With your dad?”
“My bio dad, yeah.”
“You said he looked like you, didn’t you?”
“I’m pretty much a carbon copy. It’s like...creepy levels of similarity.”
“Hmm, I kind of like the sound of that.”
I thought about that for a moment before wrinkling my nose. “Please tell me you are not trying to angle for a threesome.”
“The thought might have crossed my mind...maybe.”
“Bro, ew.”
“What, if he looks like you, that just means he’s hot, just older.”
“Bro!”
He laughed, the sound a little evil, but it made me huff in relief because it meant he was fucking with me… probably. “You can’t blame me for thinking about it.”
“That’s my dad.”
“Who you don’t know.”
“I don’t care, that’s still my biological father. Ever heard of incest?”
“Right, right. And then there’s your brother?—”
“That’s my step brother; he’s straight anyway,” I said, and in the momentary silence, I realized a moment too late that I hadn’t made the right argument against it. “A-and, I wouldn’t want to be with him anyway. Geez, it might not be incest, but still, c’mon.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking under his laugh. “Things going alright between you two?”
“Yeah, it’s weird. It’s awkward like I expected, but it’s nice too...which I hoped it would be, but I didn’t want to hope too hard, ya know?”
“Figured out why he was playing deadbeat?”
“He wasn’t being a deadbeat,” I contested in annoyance. “I haven’t got into it much with him, but I remember what my mom was like about the subject. I bet she did her part to keep him away.”
“Sure, sure,” he said lightly as if nothing in the world could bother him. “Everyone’s got a story.”
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that, don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I’m not, but it sure sounds like you don’t believe me.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that everyone has a story, and when people tell their story, they don’t include the parts that make them look bad. And when you listen to their story, you always go in with your own hopes and shit. That can make it hard to see the real story.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“What, you haven’t heard? There’s one person’s story, the other person’s story, and then there’s the real story. It’s just how people work, Milo. It’s nothing personal.”
I knew what he was saying, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I can hear that you’re pissed.”
“I’m not pissed.”
“Irritated then. You’re always getting irritated.”
That wasn’t untrue, but I didn’t appreciate having it thrown out there when I was supposed to be having a good time. “I think I liked it better when you were talking about having a fucked up threesome with me and my dad.”
“Huh?” came the hesitant question to my left, and I tensed, finding Marshall standing there with glasses clutched in both hands. “What was that?”
“Oh Jesus Christ,” I hissed, my face burning. “That’s not...okay, I...damn you, Raf!”
Raf laughed. “He heard you, didn’t he?”
“Yes!”
“What is it with you? You always attract shit like this.”
“This is your fault.”
“You’re the one who put your foot in your mouth. So, why don’t you try to repair it? You probably scarred the poor man, and let me know if I’m going to see that cute face tonight, alright?”
“Yeah, sure,” I agreed hurriedly, knowing I had limited time to do damage control. “Talk to you later.”
I hung up and smiled at Marshall with what I hoped was reassurance. “Sorry about that, that was, uh...my boyfriend.”
“Who wants a threesome between us?” Marshall asked as he sat slowly, carefully putting the glasses down.
“He was just joking,” I said, though considering how adventurous Raf was, and how... well, I knew there was some kinkiness there, I was hoping he was kidding. “He’s got a...fucked up sense of humor. He’s probably laughing his ass off knowing I said that in front of you.”
“You don’t seem that mad about it,” he noted, sliding a refilled beer my way and then two of four shot glasses.
“Trust me, I’ve been getting shit from people as long as I can remember,” I said, eyeing the glasses. “Is that the distinct and very welcome smell of tequila?”
“It is.”
“I guess this is what you were going to find out?”
“It was. And it turns out I was right.”
“Is this your way of figuring out if your taste in liquor is genetic?” I asked, picking up one of the shot glasses.
He shuddered. “Are you kidding me? I can’t stand tequila. It took everything I had not to get sick just carrying those over.”
I blinked. “Uhh...then what were you trying to figure out?”
“Tequila was your mom’s favorite liquor,” he said with a wink, holding up his shot glass. “But vodka? I can do vodka. Same thing with martinis.”
“God, I never understood martinis,” I said with a wrinkle of my nose. “I’m all for drinking liquor, but you might as well admit you’re drinking a double shot with some nasty ass things thrown in.”
“It can be an acquired taste,” he said with a laugh. “Kind of like having boyfriends who talk about having threesomes with their boyfriend and their boyfriend’s dad.”
I twitched, holding back the correction that he was my father by blood, but not deed.
Saying that would feel less like reminding him of reality and more like rubbing his nose in it.
..and punishing him. Truth was, I didn’t know the story behind his absence in my life, and I didn’t want to change the mood by insinuating that he had no place in my life because he hadn’t been there before.
“Well, here’s to...the night,” I said, holding my shot glass aloft. “That’s uh...the best I’ve got right now. Not really sure what to toast to.”
“We’ll see how long you can manage,” he said with a chuckle, clinking his glass against mine.
I took the shot and winced, not a fan of warm tequila, but I wasn’t going to argue with free liquor. “Planning on getting drunk?”
“I figure we’ve already missed plenty of time with each other, so why not have our first night around each other be fun?” he asked, promptly downing the second shot.
“Sure you wanna do that?” I asked with a grin, mimicking him and downing my second shot as well.
I’d have to make sure I didn’t hammer repeated shots of liquor; otherwise, I was going to end up an incoherent mess.
I wasn’t against being an incoherent mess, but I didn’t want to get wasted before nine.
Pacing myself so I could be a mess later was my go-to plan, even if Eli liked to say it wasn’t that good a plan.
“I can run even Eli ragged once I get enough alcohol in me.”
“He a party person too?”
“I know, seeing how he acts sometimes, you wouldn’t think so, but he can keep up with the best of them...and probably the worst when I’m not around.”
“What do you mean? Does he get into trouble?”
“No,” I said with a laugh and then thought about it. “Well, he probably does, but he doesn’t get in trouble when I’m around. Normally, I get in trouble, and he’s trying to keep me out of the worst of it. But I’m sure he finds plenty on his own.”
“Huh,” he said, wrinkling his nose slightly. “With how close you two are, I expected you would share everything.”
“Everything but nudity and sex,” I said with a laugh, the two shots giving me that first real fuzzy feeling before the liquor went deceptively quiet, then caught you off guard, about half an hour later. “It’s kind of our silent agreement, I guess. Don’t ask me why, but it’s a thing.”
“I mean, even spouses keep some things to themselves; why not brothers who are best friends?”
“Stepbrothers.”
“You’ve corrected me on that before,” he said, tilting his head. “Is this another of your things, or is there a reason?”
I had to remind myself that hesitating to answer a question wasn’t always a sign of guilt.
It could make you look like you were keeping something back, but that didn’t mean guilt.
Someone might want to keep something to themselves for a number of reasons.
I could tell him it wasn’t a thing, and he could accept it.
Honestly, as someone who didn’t yet play a part in my life, I would probably accept it or risk pushing too hard too soon.
On the other hand, maybe I was keeping something to myself because I felt bad about it, but that didn’t mean I had to bear my soul.
“It’s both,” I admitted, going for the middle road between explaining something I’d never explained to anyone and outright lying. “It’s complicated, but we both call each other stepbrothers. I guess calling ourselves brothers feels weird, I know it does for me.”
“I suppose ‘best friends’ is probably closer to the mark,” he said.
“It is,” I agreed. Mostly because there was less guilt about being attracted to your straight best friend than there was to being attracted to your straight stepbrother.
“I’d say it’s a shame we still live in a time where if you call another guy a soulmate, it automatically has to mean romantic and sexual, but,” he grinned slowly, “I think the fact that you two are seen as a couple is probably a better reason not to call yourselves that.”
I rolled my eyes. “God, don’t you start too.”
“Hey, I’m just saying, you two do come off as boyfriends.”
“God, you are gonna start.”
“It’s sweet.”
“It is not.”
“It is,” he chuckled, unfazed by my annoyance.