WraithRot
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“Hey, Tamsy.. Whassa ‘fetish’?”
If Tamsy’s mouth was full of the swill they call ‘liquor’ down here on the ground that he’d been pretending to nurse all night, he’s not sure he would've been able to stop himself from spit taking at Rudo’s question, much to his pride’s chagrin.
Tamsy gives Rudo a lesson.
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Rudo’s face burns. “Put me down!” he yells, feet dangling uselessly, kicking at nothing.
Tamsy exhales. “Rudo,” he says, almost gently, like he’s soothing a whining child, “you’re going to hurt someone. That’s not our job.”
Rudo hates that tone more than the rope. It crawls under his skin, makes him feel small and stupid and loud in the worst way. Like he’s the only one making a scene and embarrassing himself.
“Oh, screw you,” Rudo spits. “How would you like it if I tied you up, huh?”
Tamsy tilts his head, considering it far too seriously.
“I guess,” he says mildly, “you’d have to figure out a way to do that first. Then we could find out.”
____Tamsy gets tied up for a change.
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It's about growing up, mostly. Sometimes it's about the guy you totally didn't kiss in the locker room and sometimes it's about the guy who climbed in your window. Sometimes it's about hockey. But sometimes it's about the difference between what's real and what's fake, between what you own and what you fight, between being a boy and being a man.
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