Work Text:
“Sears & Sons Firearms and Shooting Range, this is the ‘sons’ part, how can I help you hit your target today?” The voice sounded simply disgusted with what had just left his mouth. “ I can’t believe I’m required to say that.”
“This is probably going to be the strangest phone call you’ve ever gotten,” Hal admitted. He was already pacing around his kitchen as he held his cellphone to his ear, his sister rolling her eyes as she watched him from the counter, unpacking groceries into the fridge. “But I… uh… you see…”
“No, we do not allow BDSM play on the shooting range,” the gruff-sounding man on the other end replied.
“No, I’m not— Wait, people have asked to do that?”
“You’d be surprised. Or maybe not.”
“You see… uh… I’m a manga artist,” he explained. “I’m trying to be, at least. That’s Japanese comics. If you didn’t know. Metal Gear Seinen magazine is taking international submissions now, and I have this cool idea for a one-shot but uh… Well, it’s a detective thriller, but I don’t know anything about guns! If I’m going to draw all of these shootout scenes, I need a frame of reference. So if I schedule a time to come in, could I uh… do that? I’d need some hands-on experience, but also some photos of the staging for the scene.”
“Two hours seem like enough time? It’ll be a bit pricey if you want to book the whole range.”
“I’ve got the money.” He winced, glancing over at Emma, who gave him a nonchalant shrug and gestured to an urn on one of their classier shelves, before flipping the container off and imitating the sound of a fart with her lips.
“320?”
“Sounds good.”
“I can fit you in tomorrow, 2 PM.”
“I’ll be there.” He hung up the phone.
“How much?” Emma asked, resting her head in her hands.
“Three hundred and twenty bucks to reserve the whole range for two hours.”
“Eh, not bad. It’s a waste of our inheritance money, but I do love wasting our inheritance money,” she chuckled.
“How was the grocery run?”
“I got the expensive hummus.”
“You sure are relishing this,” he sighed.
“I visited Mom, too.”
“… You did?”
“You would have enjoyed it. Prison is not treating her well. Don’t worry, I did plenty of gloating on your behalf. How was the shrink today?”
Hal gave her a small smile, taking the glass of water she handed him.
“Doctor Rose was fine, and you knows she hates it when you call her a shrink. Actually, uh… She thinks I might be ready to start dating again.”
“Really? Even after your last relationship ended… the way that it did?”
“That was almost a year ago!” Hal insisted. “I’m over her.” He sunk into one of their barstools, groaning. “But Rose did say… uh… Well, she said it would probably help if I could dissociate potential partners from my past experiences. Eliminate something they all had in common.”
“Like what? Being absolute cun—“
“Emma.”
“They were!” She crossed her arms, pursing her lips and making a “hmph” noise.
“She uh… Well, in no particular terms, she told me I should try dating men.”
“But you’re straight, right?”
“I’ve never really thought about it much,” he shrugged. “My relationship with my sexuality has always been… distorted, and I haven’t really had the opportunity to explore it on my own terms.”
“Ew! You’re my brother ! Shut up about that!”
“You asked!” He signed, looking out the window at the forest that bordered their apartment building. They were just up high enough to see over the leaves. “I’m going to give it a shot, I think. Dating a man. At least, I will if any are interested.”
“Yeah? I’ve done it before. It sucks. Men are basically the worst.”
“It can’t suck as much as my current love life. My standards are pretty low at the moment, Em.”
“So you just have to find a guy whose standards match yours, huh?”
“Asshole,” Hal laughed, kicking her leg playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”
“And you’re a loser!” she chuckled. “But I will still do my best to be your most loyal assistant.”
“You are. You’re so much better at drawing speed lines than I am!”
“What would you do without me?” She smirked, handing him an open pack of Oreos.
“I’d live.”
“Oh like hell you would!”
—
Hal had promised himself a long time ago that he would never, ever download a dating app again. It was how he had met one or two (or five) of his worst romantic conquests, and learned that he had a bad habit of “sticking his dick in crazy,” as they say. But this was different. A new conquest, a new venture. The world of men.
Emma had advised him against Grindr, as it apparently had a reputation of just being a hookup app in everything but technicalities. (How she knew that, he didn’t know and didn’t want to find out.) She suggested Match or OkCupid before landing on a newer app called FOXHOUND. It must have been exciting, if the developers felt the need to capitalize it.
“Bi-curious,” he mumbled as he filled out his profile. “He/him.” He rolled over in bed, lamenting a lack of more than one pillow. “Twenty-five years old,” he told the app, before lamenting to himself that his bones “are basically fifty.” “Interests…” There was no “anime” or “manga” category in sight, so he selected what he considered to be adjacent: film, gaming, art, and literature. He set his profile picture as a vacation photo from their trip to Japan the summer before, cropping out his sister’s exhausted expression to focus on himself and the bag of Kamen Rider merchandise he was holding. He looked like a massive nerd, yes, but anyone who liked his profile should probably know what exactly they were getting into.
After selecting a small group of photos— him with his sister on Christmas, him with his sister on Thanksgiving, him with his sister on… God, he needed more friends! — he finalized his profile and began browsing local bachelors. To his amusement, the “like” and “dislike” buttons were marked by icons of foxes, one smiling and one making a casually disgusted face.
It was a shame he had to use the dislike button so soon, but the first man he was given was not his type. Granted, he wasn’t exactly sure what his type even was yet, but he knew it wasn’t that. Every photo was all poses choreographed to show off his muscles and (admittedly impressive) bulge. Hal wanted someone real, unafraid to show off who they were without filters and poses and editing.
Four swipes later, he found what he was looking for. The profile photo was clearly taken by someone else while the subject was unaware. He was looking off to the side, a glass bottle of soda in one hand and a cigarette in the other. More interesting, however, was the complete ambivalence he expressed at the man-shaped blur behind him falling into the lake he was sitting next to. Hal chuckled, pressing the “like” icon for the first time.
‘You’ve liked your first profile!’ a tutorial window explained. ‘If they like you back, you’ll be able to chat!’
He closed the window, but another popped up fairly quickly.
‘David S. has liked you back! Would you like to chat now?’
He hit ‘accept.’ After all, what did he have to lose?
Hal E: “So. Are you the dry one in the photo?”
He bit his lip as he watched the typing icon pulse back and forth.
David S: “Yup. Other one’s my twin brother. It’s an eye catcher, y’know? Gives me something to start a conversation with.”
Hal E: “That’s genius. I bet so many people message just to ask.”
David S: “Yup.”
Hal E: “So, what are you on here to look for? Casual, serious, long-term…”
David S: “I’m here because I lost a bet.”
Hal E: “Oh.”
David S: “Doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”
Hal E: “… Oh?”
David S: “My Dad is desperate for at least one of us to get a romantic partner eventually. My brothers are basically celibate, one by choice and one by personality, and I broke it off with a long-term girlfriend last year. He wants one of us to take over the shop when he kicks the bucket, and he has weird policies about nepotism-only hiring. I swear, he married my stepdad just to put him on payroll.”
Hal E: “I suppose that is family business in its purest form… kinda.”
David S: “The demons I call brothers challenged me to a competition, and I lost. So I’m the one who has to try to date.”
Hal E: “You said you have an ex-girlfriend. Have you dated men before?”
David S: “No, but I’ve known I’m bi basically my whole life. You? Saw you’re curious.”
Hal E: “This is really new to me, but I’ve had horrible experiences with women in the past. My therapist recommended I experiment.”
David S: “Must be more than just horrible if you need a therapist. Damn, that sucks. A cute thing like you deserves to be treated nicely.”
Hal nearly dropped his phone on his own face reading the message, catching it just in time to avoid a nasal injury. He had been flirted with many times before, but this… Somehow it was more intense with this man, his heart racing in his chest. He attempted to regain his composure.
Hal E: “How exactly would you treat me, oh wise one?”
David S: “I’m an old-fashioned guy, all things considered. I’d buy you flowers, take you out for dinner, the works. You could ride on the back of my motorcycle.”
A motorcycle? Half of Hal’s brain flashed to images of old anime, of Akira slides and gleaming metal and holding someone close. The other half was tugged back to articles of accidents and injuries, photographs of scraps of metal on fire.
David S: “Or I could take the truck.”
Hal E: “Truck works.”
David S: “Saw the hesitation, it’s fine. Not everyone likes the bike.”
Hal E: “I don’t even like riding on the back of my sister’s Vespa!”
David S: “Ah, the one from your photos? She looks nice.”
Hal E: “Don't let her fool you. She’s secretly evil. She keeps stealing my pillows and claims that she needs them for her lady week. I know her cycle, it is not that asshole’s lady week!”
David S: “You’re funny. I would trade her for my brothers any day of the week, but that would mean subjecting you to Eli and that’s just not right.”
Hal E: “What’s it like, having two dads?”
David S: “Eh, it’s whatever. They only got married two years ago and they both claim it was just for tax benefits but they’re not fooling anyone.”
Hal E: “I’d rather have that than mine. Currently known as ashes on a shelf.”
David S: “Sorry, I have to go. Something just came up. Can we talk later?”
Hal E: “Sure.”
“Shit,” Hal mumbled to himself. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“Language,” Emma scolded, peeking her head in the door. “Did you get a dick pic of someone with lumpy balls or something?”
“No,” he sighed. “I was talking to this guy. He almost seemed too good to be true. Handsome, sweet, funny… But I think I scared him off.”
“You are terrifying,” she teased. “There will be other guys.”
“I don’t want other guys,” he hissed through his teeth. “This one was perfect.”
“Then apologize for whatever weird shit you said. If he’s as nice as you said, he’ll understand.”
“Maybe I was right all along…” He curled his knees up to his chest. “Maybe love just isn’t for me.” He pulled up David’s profile, sending him a quick message.
Hal E: “I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”
He opened a drop-down menu, and selected the “unmatch” option.
“Hal…” Emma whispered.
“What?”
“You’re such a fucking coward sometimes.”
“… Yeah, I know.”
—
“Welcome in,” the blonde-haired man behind the counter groaned, flipping through a magazine and thoroughly uninterested in Hal’s presence. One of his legs was wrapped in bandages and propped up on a stool, and the other tapped on the floor impatiently. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there?”
“Uh…” Hal pushed his glasses up his nose, adjusting his messenger bag. “I reserved the range for a private lesson.”
“Ah, you must be Artist Guy. Can’t believe that idiot forgot to get your fuckin’ name.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet and shuffling back and forth. He glanced up at the man, squinting.
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
“You look… familiar.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” He huffed, turning around and yelling up a set of wooden steps. “DAVID! CLIENT! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!”
Hal’s eyes widened. No. There was no way. No possible fucking way.
Sears and Sons… Family Business. David Sears. David S. His dating app match was his firearm instructor, and this must be the brother from the photo!
“He looks different dry,” he mumbled to himself.
“Huh?”
“Nothing!” He gulped. “I shouldn’t have come here—“
“Hal? Are you kidding me?” David was standing at the bottom of the stairs. “That’s fucking bold of you. I have a real client coming soon, so I suggest you get out of here.”
“That’s… that’s me.” He sheepishly pulled his sketchbook and camera out of his bag. “I’m the client.”
“Well, of all the… Y’know what? I’m getting George, he can take your lesson.”
“No!” Hal yelped. “I mean… uh… can we talk? Alone?”
“Wait, this is the guy?” the blonde— Eli, Hal assumed— remarked. “This is the guy you spent all night sighing on the balcony about? You could have at least picked an attractive one.”
“Shut up,” David grunted, grabbing Hal by the arm and pulling him through a door marked “Range 2.” “Your time is up, Mason! Get out.”
“Charming as always,” a teenage girl on the range mumbled, safely disposing of her unused ammo and securing a pistol to the wall before shrugging on a backpack. “Ooo, nice Rayearth pin!” she remarked, pointing to Hal’s bag. “I hope you’re a regular.” She shot him a wink, tossing her bottle-blonde hair over her shoulder and sauntering out of the room.
“What the fuck, Hal?” David asked the moment the door closed.
“I… uh…” he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear David’s stare now that it was trained on him in real life. “I’m so sorry, David. I thought I messed up! I thought I made you uncomfortable, scared you off with… with all my baggage.” When he looked up again, David’s annoyed expression was gone, replaced with a soft look of near-sympathy.
“No, you didn’t,” he sighed. “I had to go because Adam and Dad were doing trick shots on the other range and one of them nailed Eli in the foot. God forbid that bastard unload his revolvers before spinning them around… that’s besides the point. You didn’t scare me away, Hal.” He gently placed a hand on Hal’s shoulder. “When you said ‘mistake,’ I thought you meant me. Or maybe men in general. I thought I’m the one who scared you away. Maybe I was too forward. You’re new to this.”
“I’m not… well, I am, I guess. Bi-curious and all.”
“And you still have interest in resolving that curiosity?” David asked, smirking. He seemed to be in a much better mood. A little too quickly.
“How would I even do—“
David didn’t wait for Hal to finish his question. He grabbed the front of his hoodie, pulling him forwards and slamming their lips together.
Hal had kissed a lot of women in his lifetime. It was good, usually. But there was something different about kissing a man, and he had to say he was a fan of the novelty of it. Dave’s chin scruff rubbed against his own, and both of their lips were horribly chapped, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Hal snaked his hands around the other man’s neck, and a shiver ran down his entire body when Dave grabbed his waist to pull him closer. David dove in with his tongue before Hal could even process it, warm and oddly gentle.
“Well?” David asked as they pulled apart for air, both of their panting breaths matching each other in rhythm.
“Bisexual. Definitely bisexual.”
“Glad I could help.” Dave chuckled, before wiping his face on the back of his sleeve and sauntering over to the gun rack as if nothing had happened. Well, almost. The way he popped his hip out couldn’t have possibly been unintentional. “So, what kind of gun is your little comic character using?”
“Uh… I haven’t really gotten that far,” Hal admitted, pulling out his sketchbook and leafing through the pages. “This is the main character. I based him on a friend of mine.”
“You know Jack?” David laughed. “You have his frown down to a science. He comes here all the time. Basically uses Range 3 as a rage room.”
“The detective in my story is called Raiden,” Hal explained. “But he’s gone rogue. Like a vigilante, y’know? So I don’t know what sort of gun he’d use.”
“Hm… He could use a 22. It’s standard issue, he’d probably have one already.” He pulled out a pistol to use as an example, flourishing it before aiming at a tattered target. “Come hold it. Don’t worry, it’s not loaded and the safety’s on.”
Hal gulped, his hands shaking as he carefully held the gun.
“You’re holding it like a newborn deer, and those don’t even have opposable thumbs!” David laughed. “Here, like this.” He wrapped his arms around Hal, adjusting his arms into nearly proper form. “Thumbs forward, ah, no!” He pulled the gun out of Hal’s hands, pointing it downwards. “Sorry, that’s my bad. I skipped our basic safety lecture. Never, ever touch the trigger unless you actually plan on firing.”
“Sorry.”
“No, no. That’s on me. I didn’t tell you,” he sighed. “Over here.” He pointed to a big poster divided into four graphics. “One: treat every firearm as if it was loaded. Two: Never point a gun at anything you’re not willing to destroy. Three: don’t even think about touching the trigger until you’re ready to fire. Four: Be sure of your target and what it is.”
“Like your brother’s foot?” Hal chuckled.
“I knew I liked you for a reason.” David patted him on the shoulder. “Should we try again?”
“Can I try shooting this time?”
“You must really be trying to impress me.” Dave unlocked a safe, pulling out the correct ammo and carefully loading the gun. “Now, this is a house rule: We don’t let people load their own weapons until they take a short experience test. Not after the incident that costed my dear old dad his eye.”
“His eye ?”
“Don’t worry, he’s fine.” David carefully placed protective glasses over his own eyes, and gave Hal a set of plastic earmuffs. “Honestly, I think he likes how the eyepatch makes him look. But he does have to tell people that a twelve year old boy shot it out, so…”
“Huh. Like this?” Hal projected his voice to hear himself as he held the pistol up carefully, aiming it at the target.
“That’s good, yeah! Now, carefully use your thumb to switch off the safety.”
“Okay…”
“You’re still shaking.” David gripped his shoulder, nowhere near as close as they were before, but then again just earlier their tongues were touching, and it didn’t get much closer than that. “Take a deep breath, aim… now pull the trigger.”
Hal was prepared for the noise, but the kickback of even just a small gun made him stumble back into David’s chest.
Not that he was complaining about that particular detail.
“How was that?” David asked.
“Horrible,” Hal admitted, switching the safety back on and handing the firearm to his instructor. “I don’t think I ever want to do that again.”
“It’s not for everyone,” he chuckled. “Stand back, watch this.”
Hal retreated to a bench at the back of the room, watching as David took aim and lined up his shot. Five quick bangs echoed around the range as he blasted the bullseye of the target to pieces.
“Wow,” Hal whispered. “Can I take pictures, Dave?”
“Huh?” David lowered the gun, lifting off his own earmuffs. “What did you say?”
“Can I take pictures?”
“No, the other part.”
“Uh…. Wow? Dave?”
“Dave. Nobody calls me Dave.”
“Oh… sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to his feet.
“But I like it when you do,” Dave admitted, a barely-noticeable blush creeping across his face.
“I suppose I’ll keep doing it then!” A smile spread across his face as he adjusted his glasses. “So, pictures?” He held up his digital camera, winking.
“Of course,” Dave said with a mock-bow. “Let me reload first.” He loaded more ammo into the gun, before taking aim again. “Is this good?”
“Could I get a different angle? Like… from over there?”
“Are you crazy?” he asked. “That’s practically down range!”
“I’ll set up the camera on a timer. I won’t be down there.”
“I could wreck your camera,” David insisted.
“No, you won’t. I’ve seen your aim.”
“You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” He smirked, placing the gun down and walking over to the bench. “I said no.”
“What if it’s unloaded?”
“Rule number one: Treat every firearm as if it is loaded.”
“Surely you can bend the rules for me,” Hal whispered, standing up to wrap his arms around Dave’s neck.
“It’s way too early in our relationship for the puppy eyes to have any effect.”
“Oh, so this is a relationship now? That’s good to hear.”
“That’s besides the point, Hal!”
Hal pressed something into Dave’s hands. His backup plan. A hot pink nerf gun.
“I thought it could be a safety hazard, so I dug that out of my sister’s old things.”
Dave rolled his eyes, snatching it from him and putting the real gun away.
“I still don’t like this,” he insisted. “People standing down range.”
“Relax!” Hal insisted. “It’s pink plastic. What’s it gonna do? Turn me more gay? You already did the heavy lifting on that.”
“I don’t think I deserve the credit for that one,” he chuckled. “Alright. Get the shots you need.”
Hal shuffled down the range, angling the camera and zooming in on Dave’s upper body.
“Okay, just like that. Aim like it’s a real one. That’s awesome! You’re a natural!” He grinned, giving Dave a thumbs up. He could have sworn the man’s cheeks turned red at the praise. “Okay, now over here. Uh… lean up against that, that’s right. Like you’re covering.”
“You don’t lean like that against cover,” Dave corrected. “It’s cover against enemy fire, not a recliner.”
“Okay, okay. Just do your thing. Pretend there’s a bad guy over there.”
Click !
“Now over there!”
Click !
“Now behind you! Turn and shoot like a badass!”
David was getting into it now, smirking as he took out the imaginary enemies with imaginary bullets. He wove in and out of target stands, taking Hal’s directions in stride.
“Awesome,” Hal mused. “One more. I need you to stand over me and aim it down at me.”
“Huh?”
Hal slid down onto the floor, beckoning David over.
“Yeah, just like that! No wait, can you put your foot on my chest?”
“Are you crazy?”
“You’re not going to break me, Dave. I’m not made of glass. Put your foot on my damn chest. Just put your weight on the other leg. Aim right at the camera… Perfect!” He took one shot, then another. “That’s amazing. Uh… You can take your leg off me now.”
“What if I don’t want to?” David teased, pressing his boot ever-so-slightly down harder. “I’m your instructor, remember? As far as I’m concerned, this is my range and I’m in charge. Got that, Hal?”
“Wowza.”
David coughed once or twice, before keeling over in laughter. He didn’t bother to move, sitting right in Hal’s lap and chuckling uncontrollably.
“Did you seriously just say ‘wowza’?” he managed to spit out between guffaws. “I stepped on you like in a bad porno and you say ‘wowza’? What, are you going to say ‘zoo-wee mama’ if I blow you?”
“Shut up! My brain turned off!” He shoved against Dave’s chest playfully, but it hardly gave into the pressure. “Wow, you’re like… really toned.”
“I know.”
“You could at least try to sound flattered.”
“Why? I know my muscle mass. I put it there.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Hal groaned, trying to sit up when David flipped them, and all of a sudden it was him sitting on Dave’s lap. His glasses would have clattered to the ground if Dave hadn’t caught them, placing them gently to the side.
“Hey, I need those!”
“Not right now you don’t.” Dave leaned up, capturing Hal’s lips in their second kiss, and Hal melted into it, practically turning to putty in his arms. “We should go over some things,” David said as they pulled away. “Possible deal-breakers.”
“Alright.”
“I’m a catcher, not a pitcher, if you get my drift. Most people are surprised by that.”
“I suppose I’ve never… caught before, so I wouldn’t really know how anyways,” Hal admitted.
“Alright. My family is actually insane, but they come with the package. You’re going to have to get along with them.”
“My parents are dead and my sister's mom is serving a thirty-year prison sentence. I think that’s worse.”
Dave pursed his lips, looking off to the side.
“I meant it, y’know. When I said you don’t deserve the shit you’ve been through.”
“You don’t even know—“
“I know enough. Whatever it is, you deserve so much better. I want to give that to you. Since the moment I saw you. I saw those pictures and all I could think of was treating you right.”
“So we’re… a serious thing, huh?”
“I take you incredibly seriously, yes,” Dave chuckled, pressing an affectionate kiss to his neck. “As seriously as I take gun safety. So. Get off of my range.” He lifted Hal into the air, tossing him over his shoulder with ease. “What do you even weigh? Ten pounds soaking wet?”
“I’m one-sixty-eight! You’re just a gym rat!”
“Nah, not the gym,” he chuckled. “I hate those places. I’m more outdoorsy. Hiking, climbing, camping. That sort of thing. I’ll have to take you sometime. Get some sun on your pale ass.”
“You haven’t even seen my ass!”
“Not yet,” he teased, setting Hal down on the bench. “Wanna review those photos?” He sat next to him, slinging an arm around his shoulder so casually that it felt like they had been doing it for years. “Come on, show me.”
Hal nervously opened up the files on his tiny camera screen, blushing as Dave’s breath warmed his neck. He clicked through the photos, attempting to judge Dave’s reactions (which ranged from “hmm…” to “hmm!”)
“Do you… like them?” Hal asked.
“Why does it matter? Are they good reference material for you?”
“Oh, is that what you were looking for?”
“Of course,” Dave chuckled, running his thumb over Hal’s shoulder. “So, what makes it good? Because I have no idea”
“Well, your clothes help. You wear pretty tight clothes… so I can see all the muscles and directional folds!” He heard Dave laugh to himself, and playfully elbowed him in the side. “Keep your mind out of the gutter.”
“I’m a permanent resident of the gutter, thank you very much.”
“Very funny, Dave,” he mumbled.
“You like me.”
“That I do.” Hal leaned into his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“What did I do?”
“Not sure. But thank you.”
“Hey, Hal?”
“Yeah?”
“You are so weird.”
—
“Morning, Mister Sears!!”
“I have a first name,” the older man behind the counter complained. “You make me feel old, Hal.”
“Where’s David?”
“Upstairs, avoiding his responsibilities in the break room.”
“David?” Hal called, rushing up the stairs and entirely ignoring his boyfriend’s fathers concerns about the noise. “Dave!”
David rounded the corner at the sound of his name and yelped as Hal jumped into his arms, laughing.
“You’re in a good mood,” he teased. “So let me guess: you got into that magazine?”
“Nope! They rejected me!”
“… People normally don’t say that with huge smiles on their faces, Hal.” His lips dipped into a concerned frown. “Did you hit your head or something? Are you in shock?”
“No, I really am happy! Look at this!” He brandished a printed-out email in his partner’s face. “They didn’t just flat-out reject me, they told me everything I did wrong!”
“Isn’t that worse? Are you sure you’re okay? Do I need to call Em?”
“I’m fine, I promise. If they didn’t see any worth in my work, they wouldn’t have bothered. This editor took the time to critique my work! That means they think I have potential. I’m not in the magazine yet, but I’m on their radar now. That’s good enough for me!”
“Damn,” Dave laughed. “And here I was, about to offer to cheer you up.” He leaned his boyfriend against the wall, smirking. “Are you sure you don’t need it?” As casually as possible, he lifted his arms in a way that caused his shirt to ride up ever-so-slightly, offering Hal a small view of his abdominal muscles.
“On second thought,” Hal stuttered. “I’m distraught. Inconsolable, even. I’ll need comforting for days.”
“That’s what I thought.” He closed the space between them, pulling Hal’s waist closer and planting a hand firmly on each cheek of his ass.
“Well, of all the bloody— David! Get out of the break room if you’re gonna tongue-fuck your man!”
“Fuck off, Eli!”