Page 54 of Slay the Gay Away, Daddy

Footsteps thud against the stairs, and down the hall as they come closer. When he enters my bedroom, I have to do a double-take. Dressed in hot-pink hazmat suits that have been cut off at the upper thigh to show as much skin as possible, stand my sassy sidekick Tatum, and his equally ridiculous friend, Scotty. God. I detest Scotty Levinson.

Scotty flings his hands in the air for no reason other than causing a commotion. “The OG’s have arrived, darling, and we’ve come to steal the show.”

Tatum sighs. “I’d say he’s not always like this, but that would be a lie. He’s an exhausting friend, but he’s super thoughtful sometimes.” He smiles widely at me and waves. “Hi, Dare!”

I chuckle, waving back at him. “Hey, Tatum.”

His smile slips as he kneels beside me, offering me a hug. Miles growls, but we just ignore him. Tatum and Scotty’s Murder Daddies are both super possessive, too, so we’re all used to ridiculous acts of dominance.

“I’m really sorry about your dad,” Tatum says, hugging me just a little bit tighter before standing and making his way back to Scotty.

I wish Tatum would move home. He was a really good friend when we were younger, and I don’t have a whole lot of gay friends anymore. Tatum and Scotty live in Washington now, but a few months ago, after coming down to celebrate their father’s commitment ceremony to his two boyfriends, Tatum brought Scotty to Manhole. Scotty commandeered the dance floor, flailing his arms like speedboat propellers, nearly knocking out an elderly man who must have been at least thirty years of age. Scotty could have broken the man’s fucking neck if he knocked him over, but did the delulu-for-Daddy twink take that into consideration? Fuck no. He just scowled at the man as he rushed away for his own safety. Then Scotty spent twenty minutes ranting into empty space around him about no one wanting todance with him because his father was a homophobe. In the end, I called him trash and told him the reason no one dances with him is because he’s a selfish, stubborn psychopath who dances like a madman.

Scotty is eyeing my father’s watch with big, wide eyes. He kneels in front of him and pokes his lifeless shoulder. “Excuse me, Mr. Ugly-face, you’ve got a really pretty watch.” When my deceased father doesn’t answer, Scotty scowls. “Rude, much, Rudy Rudiani?”

Tatum just covers his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry, Darren. I asked Meadows to let me come alone. Scotty stowed himself away when I wasn’t looking.” He turns and glares at Scotty. “You popped out of the back seat floorboard and almost killed us. It was terrifying.”

Scotty nods proudly. “We almost drove off a cliff. It was glorious.”

“We almost drove into a shallow ditch,” Tatum corrects. “And yeah, it was kind of exhilarating.” He knocks his shoulder against Scotty’s, and Scotty gives him a nudge back. Tatum thumps Scotty’s nose. “I should have left you in Washington. You irritate every inch of me.” He’s only teasing, but it doesn’t stop Scotty from popping off at the mouth.

“All three inches?” he asks, feigning shock. “I am truly, truly sorry.”

“It’s five and a half,” Tatum growls.

“It’s three-point-seven-five at best. I’ve seen you ejaculate more times than I’ve seen myself.” Scotty turns and smiles at us. “He’s into public play, you see.” Yeah. I figured that out when, after Scotty assaulted the elderly man on the dance floor at Manhole, when Tatum pulled out his cock and furiously stroked it for all to see. If I wasn’t so head over heels for Daddy, I probably would have fallen to my knees and allowed him to shoot in my mouth. I do love a good cum bath.

Tatum groans. “Point being, I should have left you at the agency.”

“Nuh-uh,” Scotty argues. “If I hadn’t come, your little trash bag outfit would still be big and floppy and hideous.” Scotty takes a step back, eyeing Tatum up and down proudly. The hot pink hazmat suits look more like rompers after their alterations. He’s even cut a plunging neckline into both suits. Scotty’s goes halfway down his chest, but Tatum’s goes all the way down to the base of his cock. Thankfully, he’s wearing what appears to be a jockstrap underneath.

Who makes stripper attire out of a hazmat suit? And where do I get mine?

Scotty nods. “It’s serial-killer chic.” Kneeling, Scotty pokes my dad in the cheek. Once he confirms there’s no life left in him, he grins widely and claws at my father’s wrist, prying his watch off forcefully. “I’ll be taking this as my commission.”

“For Rinna’s sake,” Tatum groans. “Control yourself.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t see it first. Oh, well, Tater Tot. Finders keepers, losers weepers. Too bad, so sad, hope it makes you super mad.”

“I want one of those jumpsuits,” I add for no reason in particular, pointing at Scotty’s clothes.

“I wouldn’t mind one, either,” Mal adds, and I’m pretty sure Miles’ jaw just hit the floor.

Scotty shakes his head. “I don’t know how to cut the fabric enough to ensure your breasts aren’t fully exposed. I’m so sorry.” The weird thing is, he sounds like he really is. Like this is some massive moral failing on his part, and he’s been rocked with shame. It’s absolutely ridiculous.

“My bra will cover everything. I’m serious. I love that shade, and the overall look is kind of adorable.”

Scotty shakes his head. “You have a very large, perky bosom. You shouldn’t be hiding them away. You should take pride in them. Show them off to strangers on the street.”

Mal snorts. “It might find me a rebound from this guy,” she says, pointing at Miles.

“Oh, you’re on the prowl? How fun! Tatum can probably help. You need someone who will worship you and your voluptuous bosom.” Scotty takes a step back, even though he’s nowhere near Mal, and points at her chest. “A word advice from a dating expert—”

“You literally crushed Brody’s balls with your hand until he agreed to marry you.”

Scotty flips him off with his ring finger, even though he’s not wearing a ring. “Yeah, well, I’m married now, aren’t I?” Sighing, he turns his attention back to Mal and points at her breasts again. “Those are large, in charge, and the only support they need are the hands of an experienced lover. Too bad for you, I don’t know any heterosexual men, but the fact remains. I would suggest you start by throwing away all your bras.”

She snickers and turns to Tatum. “Okay. Self-absorbed or not, I kind of get it. He’s annoying as hell, but he’s kind of adorable.” I can’t remember a time before when Mal ever called anything or anyone adorable, but sincerity radiates out of her as she looks over at Scotty again. “Besides, who says I’m looking for a man?” She points again at Miles. “After this one, I’m ready to swear off men altogether.”

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