I've Got It Bad (And You'll Never Know) (BXB)

vii.

 "So did you put a curse on the man's dick?"

Max rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Lenny."

Lenny was grinning like a madman, chin in his hands, bouncing his leg with so much intensity that Jules thought he may break the floor, causing them to fall into the dorm below. "I'm just tryin' to think of some possible reasons Joey Ass-lin might ask you out."

"It's Thatchlin."

"He knows that, Max." Jules clarified. "He's makin' fun of you."

Max threw down the shirt he had been holding against his torso in the mirror and pulled out his phone. "If you want to laugh at somethin', consider laughin' at how sweet Joey is to me while you ain't gettin' shit from anybody." He proclaimed, pushing the phone towards Lenny.

Len's eyes hungrily flew across the screen. "Oh, this shit is too good. Should I read it aloud for the class?"

Julian massaged his forehead like he felt a migraine coming on. "Len, you don't have to--"

But the cheeky bastard was already clearing his throat. "Hey, Max, it's been so great talking to you the past couple days-- what are you doing tonight? If you want to hit a sports bar with me and catch a game (I unfortunately don't have the spare cash to take you to a game in person), maybe I could explain how hockey works to you! It'll make you less bored when you come to see my games, haha, smiley face." Lenny looked up. "As in, colon parentheses. He didn't type the words 'smiley face' like a freak."

"Thanks for clearing that up, Len." Max barked back, snatching his phone back before Lenny could snoop any further.

"You told him we've been goin' to all his games?" Julian interrogated. "How much have you told him?"

Max laughed sweetly. "That's between him and I, thank you very much!"

"I'm serious, Max-- did you tell him you went to all those games just to see him?"

"And what if I did? It worked, Julian, I got him to go out with me."

Julian shook his head. "You're too stubborn for your own fuckin' good, you know that? I don't know what the hell is gonna happen tonight, but you're not gettin' any, that's for damn certain."

Max turned from the mirror where he'd been considering a different shirt, meeting Julian's eyes. "I need a friend right now, alright, Jules? Not a bodyguard. I can handle myself. And I can tell when a guy is into me."

Lenny laughed from the couch. Julian ignored him. "You're blinded by how much you want this to be real, but I swear it isn't, Max, and you're gonna get hurt if you go out tonight."

"Why do you think you're smarter than me?"

Jules recoiled. "What?"

Max put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, you fuckin' heard me! You think you're smarter than me, and you know people better, and you can see into the fuckin' future, apparently, since you think you know what's gonna happen tonight!"

"I'm not smarter than you, Max, I'm just better at knowin' when a dude is a serious dickwad."

"He didn't sound like such a dickwad in that text, though, huh? It's almost as if-- get this-- he's nicer to a guy he likes than some rando from his calculus class!"

"This shit is heating up." Lenny mumbled, miming eating popcorn.

"Why is this the hill you're willin' to die on, Max? Why is this the guy you're gonna defend to the death? What's so fuckin' great about Joey Thatchlin?"

Max threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why does he have to be incredibly special for me to want to defend him?! He's a nice guy! Who's hot, and strong, and wants to go out with me, so of course I'm not gonna stand here listenin' to you puttin' him on blast!"

"He doesn't-- For fuck's sake, Lenny, can you say somethin'?"

Lenny only smiled. "Naw, I think he should go on the date-- it'd be too fuckin' funny."

Max's face twisted into an annoyed expression. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You, Max 'I-don't-even-know-how-hockey-works' Dane, screwin' a hockey player? That shit would be legendary. And if it ends in a fiery explosion like Jules is sayin', that would be pretty hilarious too."

Julian grabbed the sides of his head, as if about to tear his hair out. "Thanks for nothin', jackass!"

"Why are you so worked up?" Max probed. "Why do you even give a shit?"

It was too much like the fight they'd had in the bathroom at the party. Max looking beautiful in a nice shirt, hair mussed in the way he thought was sexy, asking why Jules cared. Jules, heart beating out of his body, letting something slip that he never should've. Another mistake like that, and this friendship was toast.

And Jules wasn't gonna let that happen. At the core of all his feelings, he just needed Max in his life-- Max smiling with his dimple, messing with his hair, spitting hilarious banter, or even dragging him to hockey games and throwing up on him-- he could get over his feelings, but he couldn't stitch up the Max-shaped hole in his life if the boy ever left.

So Julian replied with silence. Painted a blank expression over his sad one.

But Lenny never knew when to quit. "You seriously don't know by now?"

Two heads snapped in his direction, one furious, one confused. "Shut the fuck up." The former barked.

"Not a single clue?" Lenny continued, now standing up.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Max questioned.

Julian took a step towards Lenny, trying to intimidate him. "Shut. Up."

"The man doesn't even like hockey."

Max scoffed. "Of course he does, dipshit, we went to, like, six games together."

Lenny smirked. "And why the fuck would somebody who doesn't like hockey go to all those games with you?"

Jules' anger began to look like panic. "Len. Stop it."

Max's confusion began to look like anger. "What the fuck are you tryin' to say?"

Lenny tapped his head twice. "Use your critical thinkin'."

"Stop it!"

All fell quiet on the dorm room front.

Jules ran a tense hand through his hair, looking at his feet. "Just stop, alright? I don't give a shit. Really. I don't. Go on your fuckin' date."

And he stormed out of the room, closing the door behind him a little too hard for a man who didn't care.