Dylan & Wes

I let out a sigh of relief when Wes stands on his own.

"Dylan, can you call Wes' parents and let them know that their son is safe but he's upset and would like to spend the night here?"

"Consider it done."

Wes says, "Thanks Mr. Speer."

Hayden smiles, "You are welcome here any time. Unless you call me Mr. Speer again. Then you'll be out on your ass."

Wes snorts, "And I'm never Wesley."

"Deal." Hayden turns to me, "Please go with him. He's on his way back but we don't need him slipping and cracking his skull open in the shower."

I give Hayden a hug before mounting the stairs with my drunk best friend.

Wes-

After hours of relentless torture, I'm ready to move on from his adorable feet. He's supposed to be naked, right? And he said his arms don't work. I'll just have to take his shirt off for him. I leave the foot of the bed and move up to my next target. I haven't touched him yet and he's already chortling. He tells me that I'm doing it again. I'm tickling him with my eyes. He hasn't caught his breath yet from what I put his poor feet through and his chest is heaving.

I begin to slowly and methodically unbutton his shirt. I'm not sure if he shaves, or if he's naturally hairless, but I like what I see. Actually, I crave it. Each rib bone is clearly defined as each button comes undone. The nameless, faceless boy is not so much a boy, he's a man. And an athlete like me. I finish the last button and spread open the shirt. There are muscles and contours and curves and valleys and mounds in all the right places. He has a gentle musky scent that is driving me as wild as the sight of his gorgeous body.

Despite all of the toning and musculature, his stomach appears to be soft and vulnerable - just the way I desire it. Looking at it makes him laugh again. Stop it, he demands of me. He has no idea of what I'm capable of doing to all of his vulnerable places. He is thin and fit. His round innie navel is calling out for attention. I start up by his shoulders and caress my fingers down around his pecs, playing with his nipples. He explodes in laughter.

I prod my fingers into his sides, strumming the ribs and poking the soft tissue below. He howls and begs for mercy. This is not his lucky day. But it is mine. The waistband of his designer underwear clings to his lower abdomen about two inches above the waistband of his jeans. This is obnoxiously endearing, loveable and cute. And irresistible. I rake my fingers side to side across that lower belly and it's like I've electrocuted him. His whole body shakes and quakes as his laughs turn to screams. Even through his thick jeans, I can't help but notice that he has a burgeoning erection. This is proof that he's enjoying what I'm doing. And if that's simply an involuntary response and I am in fact torturing him, then too fucking bad. He asked for it by playing his games.

That beautiful innie belly button is calling to me. I've already molested it with my fingers, now I need to kiss it, lick it, bite it--

And now I'm awake. Dylan tried to be quiet, but the door creaked as he tiptoed out of his bedroom.

~~

"He's lucky to have you too," Hayden says to me over breakfast the next morning that he insists if I eat will cure my hangover. Dylan is upstairs taking a shower.

"We all know I'm the lucky one. My sexuality hasn't changed a thing in our friendship. He stands right there next to me almost daring anyone to say something."

"I heard things were okay at school when you came out."

"Yeah. I was terrified at first. In a school of 600, I was the only one 'out'. I couldn't have taken that step without Dylan, really all three of them, by my side." I get lost looking out the window for a moment. "From the beginning, Dylan told me that he looked it up and at least 10% of high school kids today are gay. He said some reports say that as many as 20% of teenagers identify as something other than heterosexual. He said that along with the three of them, I have 60 to 120 invisible friends supporting me at school."

Hayden smiles, "That's awesome."

"He has no idea how good that made me feel." I rub my face, "You know what else he does?"

"What?"

"My very heterosexual best friend picks out hot guys for me."

"Umm..."

I laugh, "It's not real. It's just a game we play. Wherever we are, in the school cafeteria, at the mall, at the beach... He picks out hot guys for me and I pick out hot girls for him. I have to remind him that only 10 to 20% of his picks are actually queer. He says he wants all the best-looking guys to be gay. It's a win-win for both of us. I will be deliriously happy and his toughest competition for the ladies will be playing for the other team."

Hayden cracks up.

Dylan-

Breakfast is over. Hayden, Wes and I are talking in the living room when the door opens. Destiny. Wes and I both stand, but Destiny rushes right past me and practically tackles Wes in a hug. "OMG you scared the shit out of us!" She looks sheepishly at Hayden. "I mean crap. You scared the crap out of us."

Hayden just laughs.

Destiny squeezes every bit of air out of Wes' lungs for a full minute before letting him go. "Wesley Harding, don't you ever pull a stunt like that again." Then she grabs him and hugs him all over again, "You know how much we love you, right? We can't ever lose you."

He squeezes back and lifts her feet off the ground, "It was a stupid mistake that I'll never repeat. I'm not going anywhere." He sets her down and kisses the top of her head.

Doctor Destiny checks his eyes to make sure he's really okay, then she turns to me and punches me in the arm.

"Ow!"

"That's for being a bad texter. Keeping me hanging. You think I'm not out there going crazy with worry?" She looks at Hayden, "Boys, right?"

I rub my arm. That's gonna leave a bruise, "Sorry." I turn to Hayden, "See how it is? Wes gets drunk and I go to help. Wes gets a hug and I get punched."

She walks over to me. She's smiling now. It's a mischievous smile. She points out her index finger and pokes me in the tummy.

I giggle, backing away, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"The big, strong football player can't take a tap in the arm from a petite girl?" She steps forward as I step back. "I could have punched you in the soft, vulnerable belly." She pokes again and I giggle again.

"Excuse me. If by 'soft and vulnerable' you mean 'rock-hard abs', then okay."

"Rock-hard and ticklish," she pokes for a third time and I feel like Elmo.

Wes fake-coughs.

Destiny blushes and we both seem to remember that we have an audience. Hayden has a raised eyebrow and an amused grin.

~~

I slide in opposite Wes and Destiny shares my side. Mateo sits next to Wes and across from Destiny. Three of us open our menus, but Wes sits stoic. He always orders the same. His menu inevitably remains lonely and neglected. Usually Chili's is Wes' favorite place; he loves it here, but tonight, he looks like his dog died. Except Wes doesn't have a dog. Then it occurs to me what his problem is and I just shake my head.

Mateo has no clue though. He looks genuinely concerned as he asks, "Wes, what's wrong?"

I say, "He's being ridiculous, that's what's wrong."

Wes shoots eye daggers at me, "I always order the same thing. Fajitas. They're the bomb."

"Okay," Mateo says with way more patience than Wes deserves. "So... What's the problem?"

"I can never get them again," Wes pouts.

"Are they off the menu?"

Destiny has caught up to me, "Is this about taco night?"

I look at Mateo, "He wasn't kidding the other night when he said you ruined Chili's for him forever."

Wes cuts me off, "Those tacos were ridiculously fire. They put Chili's to shame. And now?"

I point a finger at him, but I can't help smiling at my best friend, "First of all don't say 'fire'. Or 'sic' or 'lit' or 'dope' either. Second of all, it's Chili's! Just eat your damn fajitas! Quit pouting and I'll order fried mozzarella and fried pickles for starters."

That perks him up a little.

Destiny makes a face, "Fried pickles...so gross."

Mateo is still confused, "I don't get it. Chili's has like a hundred things on the menu. There's seriously a dozen different burgers alone. If you don't want fajitas, then don't get fajitas."

"But that's the problem," Wes says. "I do want the fajitas."

This doesn't make Mateo any less confused. "Right."

Destiny sighs, "Halfway through your first fajita you'll forget all about taco night."

"How dare you!" Wes is offended.

These two go at each other all the time. It's harmless. They love each other ridiculously. The best thing to do is just let it run its course.

Wes continues, "Disparaging taco night? Blasphemy!"

I laugh.

Destiny rolls her eyes from Wes to Mateo, "I know that you cooked for us with nothing the best of intentions, but do you even realize the monster you've created?"

Mateo just laughs.

I shrug, "If you really want to explode his brain you should make the next taco night 'fajita night' instead."

Destiny snorts, "If that happens, I'm never coming to Chili's with him again."

I smile, "But you'll still come with me?"

She smiles back, "I could be persuaded."

Wes clears his throat, "I still have a problem here."

That's too easy. Wes lobbed her that one. She opens her mouth for a sarcastic reply, but is stopped cold when I grab her hand under the table and give it a quick squeeze. I whisper, "Let's not show our table neighbors all of our crazy at once."

She straightens her shoulders and lowers her voice, "Wes, I just think you'll enjoy whatever you decide to order. You'll devour your food and be the first one done. As per usual. Then you'll pick at the remains of everyone else's plates. As per usual."

"That's because you'll only eat half of whatever you order. 'As per usual'." He makes air quotes.

He's right. She never finishes. With such a big personality, it's easy to forget how tiny she is. She's ready to pounce at Wes again, but I give another squeeze to her hand and she stops.

Mateo says, "How about if I pick out a burger for you. I'll surprise you."

"Better get The Oldtimer," I say with grin. "That one sounds like Wes."

Wes glares at me, but Destiny grins approvingly.

The waitress comes by and we order. Mateo asks for Secret Sauce Burgers for both Wes and himself. Now I too am curious about the secret sauce. But not curious enough to stop me from ordering a full slab of baby back ribs. Destiny asks for chicken strips and we're all set. Oddly, Wes is the only one trying something different tonight.

Mateo clears his throat, "I need to tell you guys something."

He has our complete attention.

"I've wanted to tell you all for a really long time, but I was afraid to. I mean, not because of you, but because of my dad. He isn't... He doesn't... I mean," he sighs. "I'm gay."

Is it okay to be surprised? You don't know who someone is until they tell you. I don't intentionally assume things about people; it just happens. It's society that creates stereotypes. I look at two of my favorite people in the world sitting across from me - Wes and Mateo. Both good looking strong football playing athletes. And both gay. And they're still Wes and Mateo no matter what.

I look him in the eye, smile and say, "Cool."

He smiles back. Mateo was already different from most of the rest of the town, growing up Mexican in Schitt's Creek and all. My friends are all amazing.

Wes gives him a hug and says, "Welcome aboard the gay train. You are passenger number 2."

We all laugh.

Destiny asks, "Are you only telling us or does your family know?"

"I told them at our big family dinner last night. I'm eighteen now. An adult. A high school graduate. It's my life and our brave friend here paved the way for me and inspired me to be open about my truth."

Wes blushes and Destiny raises her water glass. She looks each of us in the eye, "To all of the brave men in my life."

Wes is quickest raise his own glass, "And to Destiny. Our fierce protector."

It's Destiny's turn to blush. They love each other.

We all clink.

"How did your dad react?" I ask.

He points to his jaw and for the first time I notice the streak of a red bruise.

Destiny gasps, "Oh my god! He hit you?"

He waves a hand, "I saw it coming. I was a glancing blow. I'm fine."

Wes' jaw gapes open. "Did you hit him back?"

"I thought about it. I wanted to. I didn't. I've been bigger and stronger than him for a few years now. But I caught my sister's eye. She nodded her head and I walked away. Forever."

Destiny says, "I'm so sorry."

Mateo takes in choppy breath, "I never felt like I had a dad. I had a father. A father who was perpetually disappointed in his son. A father who only engaged with his son when his objective was to make his disappointment known. Or to tell me what I should be doing and how I should be doing it. Even when he approved of something I accomplished, like being a starter on the football team, he treated it like I barely achieved the minimum expectation. And whenever I was proud of something, like landing the lead in the spring play, he dismissed it as nonsense." Mateo tries to hide a tear, but it escapes before he could rub it away. "So yeah. I had a father and now I don't. This morning I packed my clothes and moved in with my older sister."

Not too dissimilar to me living with my older cousin. The waitress drops off our appetizers and they just sit there for a minute.

Eventually, Wes can't wait any longer and he goes in for the fried pickles. I'm eying the fried mozzarella. I'm about to reach for one when I realize that Destiny and I are still holding hands. I guess we have been all this time. And her grip is as strong as mine. Did I forget to let go or is this happening on purpose? And what about her? Did she forget too? I suddenly feel awkward about the whole thing. I grab some fried cheese with my left hand and smile dumbly.

We all sense a change in the energy of the room. A negative change. Suddenly, Tessa is standing at our table. She's with some random dude I've never seen before, a new boyfriend presumably.

She gives us all a saccharine sweet smile and says, "How cozy! So many lovebirds all sharing one nest." She turns her focus to just me, "Dylan? I'd be sick with jealousy if I were you. While you're undoubtedly playing a game of secret footsie with Wes across from you, he's cheating on you with a secret of his own. Wes and Mateo are holding hands under the table." She turns to Wes, "And Wesley. It wasn't too long ago that you were the only gay boy in town. I've been at the table behind you this whole time. I heard Mateo's touching confession. Now you have choices. What's a queer to do? Do you pick your old love, your sleepover buddy Dylan, or do you try something new? Mateo is the flavor of the month right now. Based on the death grip you have on his hand, maybe you've already made your choice, but you better tell Dylan. It's kinder to break his heart now than to string him along. You nympho skank."

For a second I wonder if Wes and Mateo really are holding hands. Do they know that Destiny and I are? Or rather, were?

Destiny releases my hand and stands up clenching her fists. "You bitch."

"And then there's poor Destiny," Tessa mocks. "Stuck at the kids' table. Never good enough to have what she so desperately wants. Destined to be the bridesmaid forever. Chasing after my leftovers, even though I already figured out that this one plays for the wrong team."

"Fuck off!"

The still unknown and unintroduced dude takes a protective step forward. I would stand up and step in if needed, but we all know that Destiny's got this. If anything, those two will need protection from her.

She stops him with a raised hand, "Hold it right there Rando. Take that step back. Do you even realize that there are three strong football player dudes right behind me, any of whom could flatten you with their pinky finger? But I won't be needing their help on this particular occasion. I'm gonna cut you some slack here and assume that she's got you fooled to this point. That's perfectly understandable; she fooled us for six months."

What Destiny means is that she fooled me for six months. Destiny wasn't fooled by Tessa for one minute, but being the friend she is, she swallowed her tongue and let me come to my own conclusion. Way too slowly.

She continues, "You look like you actually might be a nice boy, so I'll offer you some free advice. Run, nice boy, run! Before it's too late! I know it's hard to not look at a trainwreck, but if you do look too close, you'll see that her hair is actually snakes right before you turn to stone. She's only using you anyway. And when she's done using you, she'll dump you like a shit she's been holding for far too long."

Wes, Mateo and I are dying inside, trying to hold in our laughter.

Tessa scoffs and Destiny turns to her, "You fucked up weeks ago. You let your dark side loose and you lost the best thing that's ever happened to you in your petty, selfish little life. You had it all and you and ruined it all. So now it's time for you to go. Go away and never come back. Take your consolation prize and hop on your broom. Fly away while you can still pretend to have a shred of dignity."

What else can they do? They slink away.

Mateo is bursting, "You are so swole!"

Destiny shrugs like it was nothing. We are always impressed, but rarely surprised. We've seen her work before. She slides back in the booth next to me and I put a protective arm around her. She leans in, stealing my warmth despite it being summer. Destiny is strong, courageous, fearless and - so slightly that Wes and Mateo can't tell - trembling. I squeeze her tighter and lean my cheek on her head. I don't tell her all the things she already knows. She doesn't need that. I don't tell her that I never loved Tessa. That Wes and I are not playing footsie. I don't tell her that I am in love with Wes, but that love will only ever be the love that two best friends share. That our sleepovers are just two dumb guys bonding over dumb guy things. She knows all of that, so I don't say any of it. But I also don't tell her some things that maybe she doesn't know. I don't tell her that I love the smell of her coconut shampoo. That I love it when she's leaning into me like she is right now. That I wish I had never dated Tessa in the first place.

~~

Wes left with Mateo so it's just the two of us as I drive Destiny home. I park in the street and walk her up to her front door.

"I can manage on my own," she informs me.

I scoff, "No doubt."

"You, Dylan Wells, are a sweetie."

I blush. I reach up and grab the crossbar of her porch swing, stretching out my vertebrae. Destiny giggles and pokes me in the belly where my shift lifted up an inch. "Hey!" I let go of the bar.

"Sorry. I saw a strip of skin and I couldn't resist."

That's the second time today that she poked me in the tummy. What's that about?

I go in for our typical goodbye hug, the same best friend hug we've been giving each other for years now, except tonight it lingers a moment longer than usual. An extra minute to breathe in her coconut scented hair, to squeeze her warmth into me, to wonder if...

What is wrong with me? I break the embrace, afraid I did something wrong, but Destiny just smiles with her big round eyes gazing right into mine. Because I really don't want to leave, I feel like I really should leave. Like right now. With absolutely zero cool, I abruptly turn and dash across her yard shouting, "Goodnight," over my shoulder. I jump in my car and peel away.

~~

At home and dog tired, I collapse on my bed and close my eyes. But then they pop open again. I grab my phone off my nightstand and fire off a text.