Chapter One
“Outta my way, faggot .”
Awesome. A crowded bus on a rainy morning was bad enough, but Aaron found himself shoved into Justin, his best friend, by a scowling asshole. Faggot . Fairy . Sissy . Priss . His personal favorite, fudge fucker . He’d heard them all, ever since he was outed his sophomore year of high school.
Twenty years later, he was old enough to shrug it off.
For the most part.
DaVita—Martin to his friends when he wasn’t in full drag—towered over Scowling Asshole. “Oh, honey,” she said with her hands on her hips. “You’re on the wrong bus for that nonsense.”
Karin, one of the regulars at Aaron’s coffee shop, spoke up then. “He’s on the wrong planet for that.” Karin came in with her kids every Sunday. She tipped well and always smiled extra bright when her wife joined them. She wasn’t smiling now.
Scowling Asshole seemed to realize he was severely outnumbered and hopped off at the next stop. Everyone applauded as he left.
“Have I mentioned lately how much I love our little gayborhood?” Justin asked from Aaron’s side.
Aaron snorted a laugh. “Let’s hope he was just lost and isn’t moving here. The property rates would plummet.”
“He wouldn’t last a weekend,” Justin mused. “I’d convert him myself and then release him into the wild to spread rainbows and glitter.”
“Like a big gay butterfly.”
“Exactly. He was a total closet case.” Justin nodded at Aaron. “He was staring pretty hard at your ass before he shoved it.”
“That’s just too much self-loathing for me to deal with. I’ll leave the converting to you.”
“I’ll take up your slack.”
“I knew you would.” They laughed and glanced out the window at the downpour. Aaron usually walked to work, but when it rained like this, all he wanted was to curl up with a good book or an old movie. Pity his little coffeehouse wouldn’t run itself. “Do you and Dildo have plans this weekend?”
Justin narrowed his eyes before answering. “Yes. Dylan and I have plans this weekend.” He laughed and asked, “Why do you call him that? You know he hates it.”
“I call him that because he hates it,” Aaron said, flashing Justin an angelic grin.
“He says it’s because you’re jealous that we’ve been together almost two years and you’re still cruising.”
“Two years going on twenty.” But Dylan wasn’t too far off the mark, unfortunately. Aaron was happy for Justin. Hell, ecstatic for him. But losing his ass-chasing buddy stung a little. Watching them be all twitterpated in his face sucked, too, but he couldn’t call Justin names, so Dylan got the bitchy end of Aaron’s stick. So to speak. “You’re like an old married couple.”
“ Well ….”
“Bullshit.”
Justin beamed at him, but he shook his head. “Nah, not yet. But we started talking about it last night, so maybe soonish?”
Aaron didn’t roll his eyes, because, really, how far was he going to carry his crate of sour grapes? But it was a near thing. “Fine, but I get to be best man. On your side.”
“Fine, but you have to stop calling him Dildo.”
“I promise I won’t call him Dildo anymore.” To his face. “ If you guys actually go through with it.”
“That alone might be enough to get him to the chapel.”
They got off at their stop, and Aaron turned his collar up against the rain. It was barely October. Couldn’t Mother Nature give them a break for once?
“What’re your plans this weekend?” Justin asked as he popped open a huge rainbow-striped umbrella. Aaron usually teased him about it, but since it was big enough to cover them both, he kept his mouth shut on the topic.
“Feeding Mephistopheles tuna fish from my fork, probably.” God, a single gay man with a cat he was overly attached to. Such a cliché. “And calling my mother.” Might as well stew in the pot of cliché until he pruned up, right?
“Sounds fabulous .”
“I lead a glamorous life, what can I
“Outta my way, faggot .”
Awesome. A crowded bus on a rainy morning was bad enough, but Aaron found himself shoved into Justin, his best friend, by a scowling asshole. Faggot . Fairy . Sissy . Priss . His personal favorite, fudge fucker . He’d heard them all, ever since he was outed his sophomore year of high school.
Twenty years later, he was old enough to shrug it off.
For the most part.
DaVita—Martin to his friends when he wasn’t in full drag—towered over Scowling Asshole. “Oh, honey,” she said with her hands on her hips. “You’re on the wrong bus for that nonsense.”
Karin, one of the regulars at Aaron’s coffee shop, spoke up then. “He’s on the wrong planet for that.” Karin came in with her kids every Sunday. She tipped well and always smiled extra bright when her wife joined them. She wasn’t smiling now.
Scowling Asshole seemed to realize he was severely outnumbered and hopped off at the next stop. Everyone applauded as he left.
“Have I mentioned lately how much I love our little gayborhood?” Justin asked from Aaron’s side.
Aaron snorted a laugh. “Let’s hope he was just lost and isn’t moving here. The property rates would plummet.”
“He wouldn’t last a weekend,” Justin mused. “I’d convert him myself and then release him into the wild to spread rainbows and glitter.”
“Like a big gay butterfly.”
“Exactly. He was a total closet case.” Justin nodded at Aaron. “He was staring pretty hard at your ass before he shoved it.”
“That’s just too much self-loathing for me to deal with. I’ll leave the converting to you.”
“I’ll take up your slack.”
“I knew you would.” They laughed and glanced out the window at the downpour. Aaron usually walked to work, but when it rained like this, all he wanted was to curl up with a good book or an old movie. Pity his little coffeehouse wouldn’t run itself. “Do you and Dildo have plans this weekend?”
Justin narrowed his eyes before answering. “Yes. Dylan and I have plans this weekend.” He laughed and asked, “Why do you call him that? You know he hates it.”
“I call him that because he hates it,” Aaron said, flashing Justin an angelic grin.
“He says it’s because you’re jealous that we’ve been together almost two years and you’re still cruising.”
“Two years going on twenty.” But Dylan wasn’t too far off the mark, unfortunately. Aaron was happy for Justin. Hell, ecstatic for him. But losing his ass-chasing buddy stung a little. Watching them be all twitterpated in his face sucked, too, but he couldn’t call Justin names, so Dylan got the bitchy end of Aaron’s stick. So to speak. “You’re like an old married couple.”
“ Well ….”
“Bullshit.”
Justin beamed at him, but he shook his head. “Nah, not yet. But we started talking about it last night, so maybe soonish?”
Aaron didn’t roll his eyes, because, really, how far was he going to carry his crate of sour grapes? But it was a near thing. “Fine, but I get to be best man. On your side.”
“Fine, but you have to stop calling him Dildo.”
“I promise I won’t call him Dildo anymore.” To his face. “ If you guys actually go through with it.”
“That alone might be enough to get him to the chapel.”
They got off at their stop, and Aaron turned his collar up against the rain. It was barely October. Couldn’t Mother Nature give them a break for once?
“What’re your plans this weekend?” Justin asked as he popped open a huge rainbow-striped umbrella. Aaron usually teased him about it, but since it was big enough to cover them both, he kept his mouth shut on the topic.
“Feeding Mephistopheles tuna fish from my fork, probably.” God, a single gay man with a cat he was overly attached to. Such a cliché. “And calling my mother.” Might as well stew in the pot of cliché until he pruned up, right?
“Sounds fabulous .”
“I lead a glamorous life, what can I
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