For weeks, they'd been hanging out. Nothing serious. Not much movement. Just two guys, chilling when their friends/brothers got together.
Tankhun hadn't put a name on it yet. But whenever they made plans, he'd spend time thinking about it because, who wouldn't? Tem was worth it. Considering the popularity Tem was gaining on the site, Tankhun wasn't the only one who seemed to think so.
"Fucker!" Tay said, storming into the room.
He fell on Tankhun's bed and buried himself in the covers.
"What's the matter?" Tankhun asked in a cutesy voice, climbing in after him to offer comfort.
"I hate Time," Tay's muffled voice sounded through the heavy coverings. "And I hate him!"
"Okay," Tankhun said, petting where he supposed Tay's head was. "Time, I get. But who's the other "him"?"
"Tem."
Tankhun laughed, feeling defensive.
"What did he ever do to you?"
Tay pulled off the covers, frowning.
"He's fucking Time."
Tankhun's heart dropped.
"No, he's not."
"Yes, he is. He's been fucking him since we met Porsche. I thought they'd stopped."
"He's not fucking Time," Tankhun said, sitting up.
"Why else would he be here all the time, these days?"
For me, Tankhun wanted to say. After all, he'd assumed that Tem was coming around to see him. But he couldn't be sure. What did he know about Tem anyway? He hadn't even known Tem had anything to do with Time.
Tay hissed and shuffled off the bed. "I want to throw up."
He ran into Tankhun's bathroom.
Tankhun sat, still as a statue, unable to do more than blink. Because he was afraid of what would happen if he moved.
He was afraid, that if he opened his mouth, he too, would throw up all over the place.
YOU ARE READING
The Mansion of Men
FanfictionThe mafia men need a place to blow off steam. And it's not the kind of place you might imagine. It's not a bar. It's not a brothel. It's not a gym. It's a website where they get to read anonymous fanfics about their co workers and bosses fucking ea...
