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“I’ve got an idea,” Gyro said. “Let’s play a drinking game.”
Johnny raised his brows. He, Gyro, Hot Pants, and Diego were gathered in the living room at Johnny and Gyro’s apartment, as had become their every-other-Friday-night tradition. The four of them were so damn competitive, it was only natural that they should try and one-up each other as often as possible. So each of them scrounged up as many board and card games as they could find— some carried over from childhood, some picked up at thrift stores or garage sales, and some straight-up stolen from other house parties— and brought them over to try and beat each other at. They’d amassed a pretty impressive collection by this point, which occasionally made agreeing on a game difficult.
That was the point they were at now: the group was fresh off a game of spades (which Johnny and Gyro had won by a single trick) and were now looking for a new way to challenge each other. All things considered, game night had been going pretty smoothly so far— as smoothly as it could go for the four of them, anyway. Johnny wasn’t sure if Gyro was proposing this to make it go smoother, or to throw the whole thing off the rails. Either way, it was sure to be interesting.
“Sure, why not?” he said.
HP and Diego looked at each other. As the other half of couples game night, at least one of them had to give their approval to any proposed game in order for the whole group to play it. (Yes, they had rules like that. With a group as unpredictable and eclectic as these four, some general guidelines were all but necessary.)
HP shrugged. “Better that than Monopoly again.”
“Don’t even say the ‘M’ word,” Diego said, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a migraine. “What kind of drinking game are we talking about?”
Gyro grinned, showing off his grills as per usual. “A classic, of course— Never Have I Ever.”
Diego narrowed his eyes. “What is this, high school?”
“What are you, scared?” Gyro retorted.
That got Diego bristling. “In your dreams! I’ll wipe the floor with you, Zeppeli.”
Johnny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just like that, it was decided.
Fifteen minutes later found them sitting in a circle on the living room carpet, each with their drink of choice in hand. Johnny went for his preferred whiskey while Gyro mixed himself a screwdriver. Diego, not wanting to be shown up by the boys’ choice of hard liquor, rummaged through Johnny and Gyro’s fridge until he was able to whip up something that he claimed to be a cosmopolitan. HP, ever the wise one of the group, opted for a simple glass of red wine— and suffered more than one communion joke because of it.
“Rules are simple,” Gyro said. “Everyone puts ten fingers up. When it’s your turn, you have to come up with something that you personally have never done. Anyone in the group who has done it has to put a finger down— and take a drink.”
“And if you’re the only one who puts a finger down, you gotta tell the story,” Johnny added.
“Yeah, that’s a good rule,” Gyro said with a nod. “Also no bullshit targeted statements like, ‘never have I ever been named Gyro’ or anything like that, that’s no fun.”
He looked pointedly at Diego when he said that. Diego just rolled his eyes. No fun for you, maybe.
“So, the winner is whoever stays in the longest?” Diego asked, keen to get the important stuff. “Or it is whoever gets out first?”
“Whoever stays in the longest, obviously,” Gyro said. “We won’t play on teams, it’s everyone for themselves.”
“If you get out, you should have to finish your drink,” HP proposed, swirling the wine around in her plastic cup.
“Nyohoho, yeah, I like that!” Gyro said. “Any rule that gets you drunker faster is a good one in my book.”
The rest of them had to agree with that. With the rules set, all four players put ten fingers up.
“Who’s gonna go first?” Gyro asked.
“I’ve got one,” Diego said. He had a smile on his face that couldn’t mean anything good for the rest of them. “Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.”
That statement evoked a collective groan from the other players, all of whom had ink somewhere or other on their bodies. Johnny, the owner of several star tattoos, gave Diego a dirty look. Everyone knew the only reason he didn’t have any tats was because he was a little bitch who couldn’t take the pain.
Luckily, Johnny was next up and knew just how to get him back. He took a drink and gave Diego a sly smile. “Never have I ever been a European citizen.”
Gyro immediately put a finger down and took a drink. Diego’s brows twitched, but he didn’t move his fingers. Johnny frowned.
“Hey— put a finger down, Diego,” he said. “You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Nice try, but I’m a British citizen,” Diego said. “Britain’s no longer a part of Europe, for your information.”
“What the hell?” Johnny exclaimed.
“It’s called ‘Brexit’,” Diego said, lifting his chin. “If you had any awareness of global current events, you would’ve known that.”
“I know what Brexit is,” Johnny grumbled. “And anyway, that only happened like two years ago— the game is called ‘never have I ever’, not ‘technically now I am not’!”
“Johnny has a point,” Gyro said. “Plus, isn’t Brexit still ongoing?”
HP rubbed her temple. “Please do not get him started on the subject.”
Johnny pointed menacingly at Diego. “Put a finger down.”
“Fine, fine,” Diego said. He took a sip of his drink. “But you better be ready, Joestar— I fully intend on winning.”
You mean you fully intend on cheating, Johnny thought.
Here was the thing about game night: every single one of them were incorrigible cheaters. Even HP— actually, Johnny would say that she was the worst of them all, because she was so damn subtle about it. But because they were all bound to cheat, the general rule on cheating was not that it wasn’t allowed, but that one would only escape retribution if they didn’t get caught. Starting this game, Johnny wasn’t sure how one would cheat at it aside from straight-up lying, but Diego had apparently found a way: by being as much of a pedant as possible.
Thus, Diego had opened up a terrible door, one that all these born cheaters were bound to try and rush through. Gyro already had a glint in his eye that made the other players uneasy. HP lifted her cup to her lips like a poker player concealing a tell. Diego set his jaw, and Johnny bit his lip.
It’s on, each of them thought.
“My turn,” Gyro said.
He looked at each of the other players with his eyes narrowed. Each of his opponents had one finger down while he had two. His best bet would be to cast as wide a net as possible to take the rest of them down to his level; if he left anyone out, they could easily get a leg up on him. He could start singling people out— as subtly as possible, of course, so as to not seem targeted— once more fingers were down.
Gyro smirked to himself. The hardest thing about this game is going to be thinking of things I’ve never done!
“Never have I ever failed a class,” he said. “As in, gotten an F on my transcript at the end of the semester.”
To his delight, each of the other players put fingers down. He knew that Johnny and HP would— he’d been in the same class with them. Gyro had scraped by with a C, but only just.
“Fuck Professor Roadagain, for the record,” Johnny said before he took his drink.
More surprising to Gyro was the fact that Diego the perfectionist had put a finger down. “What class did you fail, Diego?”
Diego curled his lip. He was hoping he wouldn’t be asked this… “I wasn’t the only one to put a finger down, so I’m not required to tell the story.”
Gyro, Johnny, and even HP all stared at him, saying nothing. Diego huffed. Damn peer pressure…
“It was a gym class, okay?” he said. “It was stupid and I was forced to take it, so I didn’t go. I didn’t think they’d actually give me an F.”
Johnny snorted. Diego pursed his lips.
“It’s Hot Pants’ turn, isn’t it?” he asked. He elbowed her. “Go on, HP.”
Do something that’ll get Johnny and Gyro out, he silently willed her. Something easy that you know I haven’t done— like, never have I ever fucked an Italian!
HP put her cup down with an air of finality. “Never have I ever had a dick.”
“Aw, come on!” Johnny, Gyro, and Diego drank, albeit begrudgingly. Even Diego was a little miffed.
“That oughta be targeting,” Gyro muttered.
“If three out of four people have done it, it’s not targeting,” HP said evenly. “However, it would be targeting to try the inverse statement, since I’m the only one it could apply to.”
None of them could argue with that. Johnny clearly saw a little smile on her lips. Goddamnit… she knows exactly what she’s doing!
“My turn again,” Diego said, a little crestfallen that his own partner had come for him like that. He surveyed the group: Johnny, Gyro, and himself were now at seven fingers, while HP was one up with eight.
I don’t mind if HP beats me— that’s basically a spiritual victory for me, Diego thought. His best bet was to focus on Johnny and Gyro.
“Never have I ever been to Naples,” he said.
He knew for a fact that the two of them had gone there last winter to spend Christmas with Gyro’s family! Johnny’s Instagram had been filled with obnoxious couples photos, as if to say: hey, check me out. Douche.
All the other players promptly gave Diego the stink-eye— even Hot Pants. Diego blinked in surprise as he saw her put down a finger and take a drink. Ah, shit.
“Wait, HP, you’ve been…?” he started to say. “I didn’t know.”
That didn’t make HP look any less annoyed. “I studied abroad in Rome for a whole year, Diego. I sent you a postcard from Naples.”
Diego withered somewhat. Johnny smirked. He looked like a scared turtle like that, chin almost tucked into his sweater. Serves him right for obviously trying to get him and Gyro!
That didn’t mean Johnny wasn’t going to try to follow his example, however. He just had to word it properly…
“Never have I ever… uh, participated in pegging,” Johnny said. “That means given or received the strap.”
Gyro nearly spat out his drink, barely managing to cover up his laugh. Diego went blood red and slammed his cup down in indignation. HP just rolled her eyes and put a finger down.
“Too far, Joestar!” Diego snapped.
“We’re all friends here,” Johnny said with a mock-innocent shrug. He raised his brows at Diego. “Besides, am I wrong?”
“No,” HP said.
“Hot Pants!” Diego shrieked.
“Oh my god… dude, just take the L…” Gyro wiped a tear from his eye. “Okay, okay. It’s my turn.”
He was pleased to observe that they were now all evened up at six fingers each. As fun as it would be to continue to antagonize Diego, Gyro thought that he ought to just go something simple.
“Hm… Never have I ever done coke,” he said. He couldn’t really think of anything better.
Surprisingly, that got… everyone. Wait, when had they all done coke? During college? Where the hell was Gyro?
It was HP’s turn. “Since we’re on the topic… never have I ever done ket.”
Johnny and Diego put fingers down, both of them looking rather casual. Gyro’s confusion only mounted. Ket?
“Hold on,” he said. “Um…”
He laughed awkwardly. “Don’t make fun of me for asking this, but— what’s… ‘ket’?”
Diego snorted as he took his drink. Johnny flattened his lips. He couldn’t believe Gyro, a nursing student, didn’t know this.
“It’s short for ketamine, Gyro,” he said.
Gyro’s eyes bulged. “The— the horse tranquilizer? You’ve done that, Johnny?”
God, why was he looking at Johnny all scandalized? He was making Johnny feel a little ashamed of himself.
“It’s more common in the UK,” he said by way of explanation. “Kinda like ecstasy, y’know?”
Gyro still looked horrified. “Have you done ecstasy, too?”
“I—“ Johnny averted his eyes. This was not the time and place to be having this conversation. “Let’s just get on with the game, okay?”
That made it Diego’s turn. Although two rounds had passed, he had not forgotten about how Johnny had humiliated him last time. Diego grit his teeth— it was time for his comeuppance.
Not only will Johnny have to answer truthfully to this one, he thought with wicked delight, he’ll surely be the only one— so he’ll have to tell the story in front of everyone!
“Never have I ever had a threesome,” he said.
As predicted, Johnny looked miffed as he put his finger down. He opened his mouth, about to say something about targeting, when— horror of horrors— HP also took a drink with a pinched expression. She lowered her cup, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and put a finger down.
Everyone stared at her, including Diego. Hold on, he thought. Hot Pants, you… what?! He should’ve remembered the Naples thing, but this—!
He put his hand on HP’s knee gingerly. “Um, Hot Pants…?”
“I wasn’t the only one who drank,” she said. “So I don’t have to tell the story.”
She folded her arms in a clear refusal to elaborate. Diego looked stunned. Johnny sipped his whiskey, thinking that’s what you get. Play stupid games…
Gyro nudged Johnny. “Psst… hey, Johnny…”
Diego was still trying to wheedle the story out of HP, so Johnny turned to Gyro. This better not be about the ketamine thing. “What’s up?”
“Listen… it’s your turn next, right?” Gyro whispered. He gave Johnny a hopeful look, like a puppy trying to get a scrap off the dinner table. “Say something that I’ve done, will you?”
Johnny frowned. “That you have done? Gyro, that’ll put you closer to losing.”
“I know, I know, it’s just…” Gyro gestured to his six fingers up. “I’ve got the most fingers up right now, so… I dunno, I kinda feel like a loser!”
He grimaced. “It’s not my fault that I haven’t done a bunch of illegal drugs…”
“Are you serious, dude?” Johnny hissed. “You’re asking me to reverse cheat so you can look cooler?”
“Well, I can’t do it for myself, now can I?”
“Hey!” Diego snapped, finally catching on to the side conversation. “No colluding.”
Gyro gave Johnny one last pleading look. Johnny rolled his eyes. You want me to say something that you’ve done, huh, Gyro? Fine.
“Never have I ever slept with someone who was married,” he said, folding his arms.
HP and Diego just looked confused. Gyro hesitated a moment— Johnny couldn’t tell if it was earnest or not— and then put a finger down. He was the only one.
“Well, now you gotta tell the story,” HP said.
“Uh, heh…” Gyro scratched the back of his neck. This wasn’t exactly the sort of badass thing he’d been hoping that Johnny would throw to him, but… he could make it work, right? “Yeah. Back in Naples, I… kinda fooled around with one of my dad’s patients. Turned out she had a husband.”
Diego whistled lowly. “Wow. Wreck homes much?”
“Hey, I didn’t know she was married at the time!” Gyro said defensively.
“It’s more concerning to me that she was your father’s patient,” HP said.
Gyro had no excuse there. He shot Johnny a dark look to silently say thanks a lot, dude! Johnny just shrugged.
You asked for it, man, he thought. Be glad I didn’t say “never have I ever been named after an ancient Roman dictator.” Then again, he was pretty sure if he pulled that one, Gyro would break up with him on the spot. Winning “Never Have I Ever” was not worth losing his boyfriend.
“I’m next,” HP said. “Never have I ever ridden horses as a hobby.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Johnny groaned as he and the other two all put fingers down again.
“I’m playing to win,” HP said. “As always.” And it’s too fucking easy.
“Still… that’s low-hanging fruit, Hot Pants.”
“Not as low-hanging as the dick one,” Gyro muttered. “If ya know what I mean…”
He waggled his brows suggestively. Everyone booed him into silence, even Johnny.
That made it Diego’s turn again. He pursed his lips in thought, staring at the bottom of his near-empty cup. Johnny was currently closest to losing with only three fingers up… but if he accidentally got HP out again, he might be in the doghouse tonight… Plus, he was still pissed off about Johnny’s “pegging” statement earlier— you couldn’t say “given or received” and have it count for one! That was bullshit!
Johnny shouldn’t even pretend to be superior, Diego thought. We all know he takes it up the ass from Gyro on the regular! No matter— Diego had way worse dirt on Johnny.
“Never have I ever,” he said slowly, “pretended to be my brother so a girl would sleep with me.”
Johnny’s mouth dropped open. He nearly crushed his plastic cup in his fist. Even if he pretended it wasn’t true and didn’t put a finger down, it was obvious who Diego meant by that statement.
“You fucker,” he said.
“Am I wrong?” Diego retorted.
“That doesn’t count,” Johnny said. “You’re obviously targeting—“
“Not so!” Diego interrupted. “Both Gyro and HP also have brothers. It’s plausible that the statement could have applied to them as well.”
Gyro and HP, meanwhile, looked loath to be pulled into this.
“HP’s brother is literally fourteen!” Johnny shot back.
“There’s no evidence that I was aware of that,” Diego said airily.
“She’s your girlfriend!”
And you’ve met him, HP thought, but kept it to herself.
“Sue me over it, Joestar!” Diego gave Johnny a cocky grin. “My half-brother’s a lawyer. I’ll win.”
Johnny pulled back, fuming. Diego was such a piece of shit… but he was a fool if he thought Johnny wouldn’t hit back— and hit back twice as hard, at that. It was Johnny’s turn, after all.
“Never, have I ever,” he said, spitting each word, “had a sugar mommy who was old enough to be my grandma.”
Diego’s eye twitched. Johnny, you bastard… making me sound like some sort of gigolo… There were no sexual favors exchanged in that arrangement and he knew it!
“Never have I ever sneaked into a wedding to try and fuck the maid of honor,” he retorted, “and gotten banned from the venue!”
Johnny laughed. Diego only knew that because he was there too, trying to fuck the best man! “Never have I ever sneaked into a funeral to try and fuck the dead guy’s grieving daughter!”
Diego curled his lip. Johnny was the one who told him about that funeral anyway— the deceased was one of his father’s friends, whom he had hated! “Never have I ever puked after a race because I was so hungover from the night before!”
“Never have I ever poisoned a competitor right before a race!”
“Excuse me?!” Diego was furious; this wasn’t just a lie, it was outright slander! “I gave him laxatives, not fucking poison!”
“‘Poison’ is anything that causes illness when ingested, and diarrhea is an illness, so I beg to differ,” Johnny said. He’d just subtly googled it to make sure. You wanna split hairs, Diego? I can fucking split hairs all day!
“Hey… come on now, guys,” Gyro said, putting a hand on Johnny’s shoulder in a vain attempt to calm him. “We’re all friends, this is supposed to be fun—“
HP did the same to Diego, putting an arm across his chest as if he would physically lunge at Johnny. But that arm wasn’t enough to block Diego’s final retort.
You want poison, Joestar? Diego thought. I’ll give you venom.
“Never have I ever gotten disowned by my father and kicked out of the house,” he said.
Johnny stiffened at the mention of his father. Gyro saw fire in his eyes. Oh, shit. He tried to step in before Johnny could reply, but it was too late.
“Never have I ever not even known who my father was,” Johnny said.
Strawberry-flavored liquor flew as Diego threw his drink in Johnny’s face. Johnny reeled and spluttered, his eyes stinging with the alcohol. He picked up his own cup to do the same, but it was too late; Diego had already gotten up and stormed out of the room, so Johnny threw whiskey on nothing and nobody but their own carpet. HP threw an exasperated look to Gyro as she followed Diego to calm him down.
Gyro sighed and grabbed a handful of paper towels from the roll they had on hand in case of spills. He gave them to Johnny to wipe off his face and neck.
“Fucking Diego,” Johnny muttered as he toweled himself off. “He always has to fucking ruin things!”
“Johnny, I’ll always be on your side at the end of the day,” Gyro said. “But… you went too far. I think you know that.”
Johnny looked at Gyro with darkened eyes. The dangerous fire in them had died down a lot— quenched by Diego’s drink, apparently— but there were still quite a few embers burning. “He started it.”
“It doesn’t matter who started it,” Gyro said.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing!” Johnny pulled his knees up to his chest, suddenly looking more miserable than angry. The vodka dripping off his hair definitely wasn’t helping. “Man… he brought up my dad, Gyro. That shit’s off-limits.”
Gyro sighed. “I know, caro. I’m not saying it was right. But you can’t fight fire with fire without getting burned.”
He slipped his arm around Johnny’s shoulders and pulled him in for a half-hug. Johnny turned his head away pointedly, but still allowed his body to mold to Gyro’s. HP and Diego could be heard having a similar conversation in the adjacent bathroom, which they’d apparently locked themselves inside of.
Damnit, Gyro thought. He had to feel a little responsible: playing this game had been his idea, after all. If Johnny and Diego got into (another) feud because of it, it would kind of be his fault. Then game night really would be ruined— more than it was ruined on a regular basis by their usual antics, anyway.
“You wanna know what I think?” he asked eventually.
“No,” Johnny said flatly.
“I think,” Gyro said, pushing on regardless, “you and Diego can only say all that shit about each other in the first place because you’ve been friends for so long. Something dumb like this shouldn’t be the end of that.”
Johnny inhaled like he was intending on responding, but in the end said nothing. Gyro squeezed his shoulder a little tighter.
“I mean, he knows things about you that even I don’t know,” he said. “Like, the thing about sneaking into a wedding? You’ve never told me that story.”
Johnny grunted. “That’s because the whole thing was a bust.”
“So you’re telling me that you didn’t fuck the maid of honor?”
“…Gyro.” Johnny’s voice was scolding, but Gyro glimpsed his smile.
“What, did you get kicked out of the venue with nothing to show for it?” Gyro asked teasingly. “Not even a stocking garter? What went wrong?”
Johnny giggled a little despite himself. “C’mon, Gy… you’re my boyfriend, why do you even wanna know?”
“Please, I don’t feel threatened by some random girl that you didn’t even manage to hook up with,” Gyro said. “Are you gonna make me ask Diego?”
Johnny sighed at the mention of Diego, unfortunately brought back to the present reality. “God… did he storm out of the apartment?”
“Nah, he just barricaded himself in the bathroom,” Gyro said. He couldn’t hear Diego’s and HP’s voices anymore, which probably meant that things had calmed down over there, much like they had on Gyro’s end. “Johnny… you should really apologize.”
Johnny folded his arms like a petulant child. “…Only if he apologizes first.”
Gyro rolled his eyes (but only because Johnny wasn’t looking at his face). “You can’t always get what you want, babe. Lemme go talk to them.”
He got up and headed over to the bathroom. Johnny finished drying himself off, although he was probably going to need a shower to help with the stickiness of whatever Diego had mixed in his drink. He then crawled over and mopped up as much of his own drink as he could. Good thing the carpet had been thrifted…
As he did that, Johnny thought about what Gyro said. You’ve been friends for so long… Although it was true that he and Diego had known each other since childhood, it was hard to say that they’d been friends that whole time. It was more like— they worked together when it benefited the both of them, and butted heads the rest of the time. Diego infuriated Johnny by frequently beating him by a nose, and Johnny was just the kind of “bloody country fuck” that Diego despised.
But for some reason, life kept on bringing them together. They’d both ended up in college instead of continuing on the track— and at the same college, no less. Then they’d ended up in the same social circle by pure chance… and now, they frequently hung out together (albeit with their SOs accompanying them). It was like the universe either wanted them to be friends… or it wanted them to tear each other’s throats out.
Johnny balled up the soiled paper towel in his hand, thinking. If I had to choose between those two options… wouldn’t I rather be friends with him?
He didn’t have time to answer himself before the bathroom door opened again. The three other members of “game night” filed back into the living room: first Gyro, then HP, then finally Diego. He had his arms folded, but his eyes were cast down. Johnny, too, looked at the floor.
HP sat on the couch and Diego sat next to her. She put her hand on Diego’s knee and squeezed it with a sort of firm tenderness that was characteristic of her. Gyro, meanwhile, sat back on the floor next to Johnny.
“So…” he said.
He nudged Johnny. Johnny bit his lip. If he had to choose…
“Sorry, Diego,” he muttered.
Diego lifted his head. “What?”
“I said I’m sorry,” Johnny snapped. With another cautious nudge from Gyro, he took a deep breath and tried again. “Uh… I shouldn’t have… said all that shit. It was fucked up. And, uh. I’m sorry… I guess.”
“You guess,” Diego said bitterly. But HP, like Gyro, reined him in with a touch. He swallowed visibly and averted his eyes from Johnny again. “I mean… same.”
“…Same?” Johnny repeated.
“I also apologize,” Diego said with a stiff, clipped cadence to his voice. “I should not have… brought up the things I brought up. They were low blows.”
He sniffed. “I’m better than that.”
Johnny exhaled. That had to be the closest thing he’d ever get to an honest apology out of someone like Diego. On the other hand, though… it felt more honest because it was so Diego, somehow.
“No hard feelings?” Johnny asked.
Diego sighed. “No hard feelings.”
Gyro clapped his hands together. “All right! Glad that’s patched up. Now, next time—“
“—there’s gonna be a next time?” Johnny muttered.
“— we’ll stick to nice, general, non-offensive statements!”
Diego eyed him suspiciously. Where was the fun in ‘non-offensive’ statements? “What do you mean by general?”
Gyro shrugged. “I dunno, like— ‘never have I ever been skydiving’, or something like that!”
“But none of us have ever done that, Gyro,” Johnny said.
“I have,” HP said.
The room went silent. All eyes landed on HP instantly.
“Wait… you’ve… gone skydiving?” Johnny asked.
“Yeah,” HP said.
She didn’t offer anything else to elaborate. Saying more would simply put her at a disadvantage next time.
At that moment, every other person in the room had the exact same thought: shit… I can never beat Hot Pants at this game!
In that case, they were going to have to find something else to play.