Page 49 of The Trailer Park Twink
“The only thing I know is you’re a degenerate. Who’s to say you weren’t sneaking into his room when he was little just to have your way with him. Who’s to say our entire marriage wasn’t just a chance for you to fuck my son?”
I stand on my toes and glare at her over Daddy’s shoulder. “Who’s to say I won’t fly across this room in a second, if you don’t shut your mouth when you’re talking about Daddy?”
Mom looks like she’s going to be sick. “Daddy.”
“Read the room, Austin,” Daddy snarls. “Not helpful, son.”
“I’m going to tell your boss,” Mom threatens Dallas. “I’ll tell him you’ve been at it since Austin was little. I’ll burn yourworld to ash and bake you a damn cupcake with the ashes left behind. How do you like it, huh? How do you like those cupcakes?”
The toilet flushes and the tap turns on. I have no idea who our little mystery guest is, but consider me intrigued. The door opens and closes, and I turn to see Daddy’s boss, Bubba, walking toward us, drying his hands on his shirt.
“Not a very good plan, if I’m being honest,” Bubba says to my mother. “I’ve known D-Bag for years, and I know he didn’t understand his feelings until recently. We all knew, but it took him years to finally figure it out. I’d believe you sooner if you told me pigs were flying.” Bubba peeks behind Daddy, smiling when he sees my naked form. “I could fuck you until you forgot your name if I wanted to,” he tells me, and I won’t even pretend it doesn’t make my cock rise like a goddamn traitor, because a gentleman loves a compliment. He looks me up and down, then sighs. “I really wish I wanted to. Don’t feel self-conscious, buddy. You’re a handsome motherfucker, I just ain’t feeling the spark. It’s not you. It’s me.”
Daddy must see it as an insult, because he uses his hand to pull me further behind him. “He’s a pretty fuckin’ flower, and he still has room to grow, you bastard.” Bubba’s eyes drift lower, causing Dallas to reach his hand in front of Bubba’s face and snap repeatedly. “Hey, eyes up here.” He drives a fingerinto Bubba’s chest. “Don’t ever look at my boy’s penis again. Do you hear me?”
“I was actually checking out his ass.”
To my shock, horror, and unintentional arousal, Dallas lunges forward, launching himself at Bubba like a bodybuilder suffering from a terrifying round of roid rage. The pair topple to the ground, and their fists fly like bullets, punching each other repeatedly. They don’t strike each other in the face, focusing instead on the shoulders. I’m not sure what that’s about until Bubba’s fist inadvertently grazes against Daddy’s cheek. To my surprise, Bubba pauses the fight long enough to say, “I’m sorry, bro. Nothing above the neck. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”
“I appreciate it, man,” Dallas says, then he rears back his fist and drives it into Bubba’s upper arm. “Gotta keep my face pretty for my pretty boy.”
Bubba glances at Ezra. “Yeah. I get that.”
“You like him. I can tell.” Dallas socks Bubba in the shoulder. “Johnny’s going to be hurt if he finds out you’ve got a crush on another guy.”
Bubba punches Dallas in the chest, and it isn’t a light tap by any means. It’s like he’s pouring a simmering rage into it. “He left. My boy didn’t want to stay at my place no more. He met a girl in West Clark a couple of days ago and I guess he’s trying hide his feelings by hiding from me. Fat lot of good that does,considering there’s less than ten employees at the machine shop.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “Maybe my ex-wife is right. Maybe I’m just downright unlovable.”
Dallas pulls Bubba in for a hug. “I’m real sorry, man. I know that has to hurt. You’re a good man, and you deserve—Christ! What the fuckin’ fuck, bro?” As Dallas gives his impassioned reassurance to Bubba, I guess Bubba sees at as his opportunity to strike, because that’s what happens. Bubba reared back his fist and struck Dallas on the shoulder again, harder than any of his other blows.
“I’ll get over him,” Bubba says. “But it’s gonna sting like a motherfucker.”
“Is this a normal form of bonding for their kind?” Ezra asks. “For the straights, I mean.”
I shrug, because I’m not really sure. “Who knows why the straights do anything they do? I’ll ask Dallas once they’ve finished this ridiculous round of wrestling.”
Dallas pauses mid swing and looks up at me. “I ain’t straight, Aussie. I’m pretty sure I'm bi.” Bubba lands a blow on Dallas’ bicep, making him wince.
Did I just erase his sexuality? Did I invalidate Daddy as a person? Because I would never. Not on purpose. I know a lot of bisexual folks get invalidated regularly, and I don’t want to contribute to that. Daddy’s bi, and that’s just fine. Better than fine, actually, because it means out of all the people he couldhave picked, he picked me. And what an absolute fucking honor that is. No one else gets to be Daddy's boy or girl. Just me. Forever. I'll be the best fucking boy he could ever wish for.
I point a finger at Bubba. “I need to apologize to him. Don’t you dare hit me when I come closer.”
Bubba rolls his eyes. “Why would I hit you? You’re a good boy, unlike your Daddy.” Daddy punches his shoulder again, but Bubba gives Dallas an open-handed slap on the face. “No sneak attacks. You know the rules.”
“You just decked me when I was talking to my son. Didn’t he, Aussie?” He looks to me for support, but how can I support him when their actions are so fucking idiotic? They’re like man-children.
Exhausted by their exchange, I kneel beside Daddy and press my hand over his heart. Behind us, Mom and Ezra are arguing about something, and Ezra looks like he’s ready to end her. How did she even get here? Did she come with them? Ugh, who cares? Daddy needs me. He needs to know how sorry I am.
“Dallas?” I whisper. He’s got one hand around Bubba’s throat, and he’s using the other to punch what I can only assume is his kidney. “Stop hitting Daddy, I need to talk to him,” I growl at Bubba, stopping the jolly queen giant in his tracks. He gives me a nod, but he doesn’t attempt to move out from under Dallas. He just lies there like a bump on a log. Whyis he still here? Has he never heard of personal space? “A little privacy, please?”
He blinks at me. A bit slower than necessary, but that’s okay. “Your stepfather is literally pinning me to the floor.”
“A real man would be able to get out of that,” Ezra points out, and while his point is true, who asked him? It’s like everyone in the room is trying to hijack the moment so I can’t apologize to Daddy for bi-erasing him.
“I’d be happy to show you how much of a man I am, little guy.”
Ezra’s eyes narrow. “You’ll keep your cock away from me if you know what’s good for you. I’ve said it at least a hundred times on the trip. Hands to yourself, you backwoods bastard.”
“Fuck, you’re cute.” Bubba says.
