Page 69 of The Trailer Park Twink
“Did... did you just tell me to die?”
Ezra nods. “Yes. and I’ll say it again. Die. Die twice. Die fucking thrice, for all I care.”
Johnny’s jaw trembles. “That’s not nice, Ezra.”
Ezra’s eyes widen as he watches Johnny’s uncharacteristic reaction, then slowly nods his head. “You’re right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I’ll never tell you to die again. You have my word.”
I groan and grab Daddy’s hat and place it over my face, inhaling Daddy and exhaling emotional exhaustion. Daddy pulls me against his chest, resting my hat-masked face in the crook of his shoulder.
“You’ve got real soft hands, Ezra,” Johnny says, almost as a whisper.
“I have an exfoliation routine. I could show it to you sometime,” Ezzy says, and now he’s sounding a little breathless.
“Nope,” Dallas groans, holding me closer. I guess he’s done with their stupid little love triangle, too, because he just shakes his head, grumbles, “Not today,” under his breath, and carries me past Bubba and the boys, into our new-slash-old home. Everything looks the same except for one very large change that we never discussed.
Our new bedroom is gone. The one Dallas and I were going to share forever. It’s been torn down, and a staircase has beenconstructed in its place, made from what looks to be freshly sawn logs. They’re covered in this really pretty gloss that makes them shine, and there are two super-long pine trees that have been cut down and erected as handrails. It’s fucking fabulous, but it’s not my room, and I was really stoked about sharing that room with Dallas.
As I gape at the missing bedroom, Clint rushes out of the bathroom, his hand around his bare penis, piss still dripping from the head like a goddamn caveman, and he frantically shakes his head, staring right at Daddy.
“D-Bag. Man, this isn’t my fault. I know it’s not what we talked about when we went over the blueprints back in Texas. I’m not taking the fall for this; it’s all Bubba’s doing. He didn’t give me a say—just took a sledgehammer and started banging your bedroom wall down. I kept yelling that you wanted the stairway to be at the end of the hall, but he was hellbent on getting his way. I think he did it to get back at you. You know, because your wife burned down his livelihood and salted the earth. I’m pretty sure she cast a protective ward, too, because when I tried to cross the line of salt, it felt like my skin was on fire. I’ve been talking to Bubba about it while we’ve been working. We’re pretty sure she’s an undercover thaumaturgist.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I admit, pulling Daddy’s hat away from my face and placing it on his head.
“She manipulates reality, coiling Mother Nature around her little finger, reshaping the world how she sees fit. It’s a wonder she didn’t use her magic to tear down all our homes while she was at it.”
I blink at him like he’s stupid, because that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. So, I tell him, “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, there’s no need to be mean,” Clint says, kicking a pebble with his shoe. Why the fuck are there pebbles in our lovely little cabin? I didn’t even notice them before, but now they’re all I can see. I spot ten of them before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Is this what living with het-leaning potentially queer men is going to be like? Rocks scattered across the floor because they can’t remember to wipe their feet? Piss on the damn rug because a grown man won’t tuck his penis away before exiting the bathroom? Don’t even get me started on the bathroom. I swear to God, if there are any speckles of brown stuck to the bowl, I will lose my fucking mind. In front of me, Clint finally tucks his cock away and folds his arms over his chest, his pissy fingers digging into his biceps. “You’ll have to excuse me, my Lord. Me and Bubba have been playing a tabletop RPG during our breaks from constructing an unconstructable two-story trailer-cabin. Maybe we got a little carried away. Maybe we got a little bored and found somethingto hold our interest. You ain’t gotta be a fuckin’ dick about it, little bro.”
I close my eyes and sigh, because this is what my life is now. These are the people I’ll be spending it with for the foreseeable future. While I don’t mind the eye candy, I do mind the mind-numbing conversation. I could cope with that, though. I could handle all the stupid discussions about tabletop RPGs and DIY construction. What I cannot and will not cope with is being called bro. I simply cannot. I thought I might come around to it eventually, considering he says it in a really endearing voice, but I just can’t.
“Don’t call me little bro.”
“What should I call you then?”
I shrug. “Fuck if I know, just don’t call me little bro.”
He chews his cheek, looking lost in contemplation. “What about Sis?”
I shake my head. “That’s homophobic.” His eyes widen, and he looks mortified. As he opens his mouth to plead his defense, I lift an unenthused hand in surrender. “I was only joking. You can call me Sis.”
Burying my face in Daddy’s neck, I breathe him in, probably purring like a kitten in the process, but Dallas doesn’t seem to mind. His hand wraps snugly around my waist, rubbing up and down my back. With my eyes closed, I tune out the noise around us.
“Daddy?” I mumble, kissing his neck. “Are we going to live upstairs?”
“I wanted us to have the room down here, but since that dream’s shot straight to hell, it’s up to you, baby. We can take the guest room down here if you want. I was going to give it to Bubba, but it ain’t big enough for three men, and I don’t think either of them are going to take a separate room. If we split them up and have Bubba room with Clint, they’d probably think Clint was out to seduce him. I don’t think he’s queer, but I didn’t think I was queer either until you tried to seduce me.”
“Succeeded,” I remind him, kissing his jaw. “Succeeded in seducing you.”
He rolls his eyes. “You didn’t seduce shit, Aussie. You’ve always been mine, I just didn’t know what that meant. I know what it means now though. I know it means I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone before. I know it means you’re mine. Always. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, you’re mine, Austin. I’ll never let you go.”
“What if I run away?” I tease, tickling his side.
“You better not.”
I kiss his neck. “Never gonna find me, Daddy. Gonna run so fucking hard you can never catch up. Jump into the lake and swim away forever.”
He squeezes my ass, making me whimper. “I’ll get a fuckin’ boat if I have to. Track you down. Make you beg for Daddy’s forgiveness.” His lip brushes against my ear. “Make you plead for every single inch.”
