Page 106 of The Frathole
“Hey, why don’t you put this house on AutoCAD or Revit, and then I’ll show you what I can do?”
“Ooh,” Taylor says. “I like it when you talk dirty.”
“Sure, it’s the dirty talk you like,” Brenner says as he pulls the measuring tape out and holds it by his crotch. The way Taylor’s cheeks turn pink, I have a feeling it’s an accurate measurement. “Let’s see what you must be on this thing.” He pulls the tape out near Taylor’s crotch.
“Stop,” Taylor says. He fights a smirk for a second, but then caves, giving his man a look, and Brenner sports a grin, as though fucking up on this drywall was worth it just so he could get that line in.
I’ve hung out with these guys some while they were undergrads at Peach State. Even though Brenner’s still attending Peach State for his master’s, we don’t see them around as much as we used to, so it’s been nice getting to see them some more on the builds because, yes, they’re always this fun.
Brenner directs us to lay the drywall flat, and we remeasure, Brenner drawing a line where Payton needs to cut. While we’re waiting for Payton at the saw, Brenner hooks his arm around Taylor, drawing him in for a fat kiss. It sucks not being able to get my hands all over Ryan right now—not because it’s a secret, but because he’s on the roof today.
Brenner nibbles at Taylor’s bottom lip, lingering for a minute before Payton finishes sawing and says, “Are you guys trying to make me cut myself?”
We all share a laugh before Dax heads toward us with a two-by-four.
“Hey, man,” Brenner says, “could you check with Miles where he put the sander?”
Today Dax and Miles are working on the same part of the house, but since their explosive exchange, they’ve kept their distance. Miles occasionally cuts a glance Dax’s way, like he’s one move away from snapping and tearing our friend a new one. Who knows what his deal is, but the way Dax’s eyes bulge at Brenner’s suggestion tells me that’s a bad idea.
I’m wondering if no one mentioned the incident to Brenner, but then Taylor nudges his shoulder, and they sneak each other a look. “Oh, right, the whole beef thing,” Brenner says. “I can ask him when I’m finished with this.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Dax says.
When the drywall’s ready, we install it, and then Brenner and Taylor head off to find the sander. Dax and I are putting nails in the drywall when a familiar scent hits my nose. Ryan hooks his arms around my waist, drawing me close, and I glance over my shoulder. “If you’d surprised me, I could have hit you with my hammer.”
“All good. I got about a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle…and a hard hat.” He grips the edge of his hat, tilting it like he’s sporting it for a commercial.
I spin toward him. As usual, he’s not wearing a shirt, so it’s just flesh and sweat, making him fucking irresistible. Although, I tense up when I notice his shoulders are a little pink. “Someone needs sunscreen.”
“We applied some a few hours ago. You timed, remember?”
“Yeah, and you have to reapply every two hours. Plus, you’ve been on the roof all day, so turn around.”
“Ooh, he’s getting bossy. He does that whenever he’s feeling toppy,” he tells the guys, and before I can admonish him, he says, “Shut it? Yeah, I know, I know.”
I slip the sunscreen out of my back pocket and take his shirt out of his belt loop, using it to pat down his shoulders and backbefore applying.
I make sure to get his shoulders good, to ensure he won’t get too red. “Still think you might get a burn here,” I warn him.
“Nah. Knowing my skin, it’ll be tan by tomorrow.”
When Ryan turns around so I can get his chest and abs, he says, “This is totally turning Dax on, isn’t it? Watching my man lube me up?”
Dax shrugs. “It’s notnotturning me on.”
I laugh because really, I’m having the same issue. Slathering him up reminds me of how much muscle mass there is to cover on the guy, and it takes me a minute to finish with his abs before I make it up to that thick chest, ensuring I get in the dip between those pecs, which he flexes, and I can’t keep from smiling.
“So…” Ryan says, “I know we’re only starting the summer, but we haven’t really discussed when we’re gonna have our date.”
“When were you thinking?” I ask because I can tell by that smirk he’s got something on his mind.
He doesn’t hesitate. “Tonight.”
I tense up. As much as I want to go on a first date with Ryan, I don’t think there’s any way to make tonight happen. “We’re gonna be messy and tired after today. We’re not gonna want to go out.”
“Exactly,” Ryan says, and now he’s really caught my interest. “What if we made something for dinner?”
“Well, we don’t want to impose on—”
