CHAPTER 6

KENO

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t completely thrown off my game by Etna’s… proposal? Was it a proposal? Did he ask me to marry him?

Or did I and he answered?

I have been absolutely consumed by this. I’m sure he has, too. We’ve lost the last two games. I’m not going to fault myself or Etna, but I’m sure our distraction didn’t help the situation. Bottom line, this is all I can think about yet haven’t been brave enough to bring it up.

The silence between the two of us is tangible. I can feel it. I’m sure Etna can, too, if the way he steals glances in my direction in the same way I do his is anything to go by. The team sees it too. I can’t count how many times they’ve asked if something is wrong. It’s gotten to the point even Coach Merrill is watching us more closely.

Which means we need to talk.

When I get out of the shower, Etna is already lying on the bed with the remote in hand, pointed at the television, though it’s on the same show it was when I went into the bathroom. I climb onto the bed and lay on my stomach facing him. “Okay, we need to talk about this.”

I’m waiting for him to say, talk about what? He doesn’t. We both know what I’m referring to.

“For the record, I was joking,” I say.

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

I’m not sure why, but his words make me flinch and I immediately want to take them back. “I’m not…” Taking a breath, I try again. “How would this work?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I think the most basic way is to go to the courthouse and have the justice of the peace perform it with a couple of witnesses.”

I snort. “Not what I meant. I mean… This . Us.”

“I don’t see how it’s all that different from what we’re already doing. Do you?”

No. He’s entirely correct.

“I think there are other things to think about than the… Well, the legality of it. Obviously, we can get married. It’s even legal in Arizona, so we wouldn’t have to go anywhere to do it. But… like… do you love me?”

My skin burns just asking this question. I feel like I’m six and asking Jeannie Hartman if she’ll be my girlfriend on the playground while I hang upside down from the monkey bars. Hell, even my stomach flips as if I’m upside down.

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend.”

“I realize this is a little contradictory to what I pointed out during our conversation in Vegas, but is that enough? Is that the kind of love you’re supposed to share with your spouse?”

“You’re right. That’s entirely contradictory,” Etna says, laughing. “But wasn’t that your point?” He sits up and folds his legs under him to face me. “We know we’re compatible on a personal level. That we can cohabitate because we’ve also basically been doing that for the past year. We’re equals as far as pay goes and financial responsibility—which is to say we could totally do better.”

“Definitely,” I agree. Not saying we waste money, but we totally waste money.

“The biggest aspects most people don’t consider when they choose to get married, we’re already miles ahead. We work together. I think you can agree on that.”

Fucker is going to make me say it. “I know,” I agree. “ But you know those aren’t the parts I’m talking about.”

“I’m going to argue that they’re the more important aspects. Especially if we’re talking about the kind of marriage you brought up.”

“Etna—”

“You need to talk about sex, huh?”

“I realize I put on a gay front with the world, but I’m not actually gay. And neither are you. So… what’s your plan there?”

“I happen to know there are tons of guys in the world who identify as straight and enjoy butt play.”

I’m so surprised by his answer, I burst out laughing. “You don’t say. Are you one of them?”

“I could be.” He sniffs. “I’ve never tried.”

“You’re saying you’re open to trying.”

Etna sighs. “I’m saying that everyone likes to say they’re married to their best friend. I’m arguing we can make that happen for real. Not a spouse who you fall in love with, marry, and suddenly your relationship with them trumps all others. I don’t intend to lose my identity by becoming someone’s spouse. I’m fully capable of having my own friends and own hobbies.”

“Like you do now,” I tease.

“I’m talking in a different situation, but… sure.”

I swat his leg.

“But this is the reality of it. Not to get sappy or anything, but you are my best friend and I love how we’re living our lives. Do you know what I dread the most?” I shake my head. “One of us being traded and we’ll lose this. I’ll lose you. You have no idea how often I think about that—long before this marriage thing came up. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Yeah, I know. Me too. I dread the season right up until the trade deadline. Then I dread the end of the season when it opens back up. I don’t want to lose you either.”

Etna nods.

“That’s another conversation. Trades. How that would affect our… marriage. Fuck, that’s weird.”

He laughs and then rubs his hands over his face. “I know there are some big things we need to work out. Sex obviously being one of them. Neither of us would be happy with a celibate marriage.”

“We’re celibate enough the way it is,” I mutter. “Far more than we’d like to be.”

“I’ll be honest and tell you the primary reason I don’t put myself out there to find a girlfriend is because I don’t want someone to demand my attention. I like what we’re doing.”

I haven’t put much thought into why I haven’t. If I did, I would wager a guess it would be for a similar reason.

“The guys are right, aren’t they? We’re already practically married. We’re monogamous and not even putting out for one another.”

Etna laughs loudly. “Fuck’s sake, Keno.”

I grin, watching him laugh. Why does that sound make me feel all… happy and light? Has it always? Have I always loved his laughter? Is this just suggestive thinking now that we’re talking crazy and marriage and shit?

Etna continues, “Look, I think the things we’re maybe hesitant to talk about right now will get easier. I think we’ll grow into them. I think that our love will change too, and we could be in love someday if we allow ourselves to be. If we open ourselves up to that possibility. The question is whether we’re willing to give it a chance.”

“Just so I’m clear, your thoughts on sex are we’ll figure it out together. Not that we’d pick up chicks and… whatever.”

“Yes,” he deadpans.

I chuckle at the look he’s giving me. “So you’re going to force me to live my lie as my truth after all, huh?”

“No. I’m not forcing you to do anything. But I would like you to agree. Willingly. Uh… wantingly. If that’s a word.”

“I don’t think it is, but I get what you’re saying. I’m not done with this sex conversation yet.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Who’s bottoming? Are we limiting what we do to certain acts? Are we cuddling? Which, yes, I know cuddling isn’t exclusively linked to sex. Are you super horny often or are we going to be, like, a one-night-a-week couple?”

Etna’s laughing again, which I appreciate. While I’m serious about my questions, I like that he’s not getting impatient.

“I don’t think we need to decide who’s bottoming. It’s not like who’s driving and only one person can.”

“Sure it is. You drive one way and I drive the other. We take turns, so maybe we’re not both driving at the same time, but we can both drive.”

“This is a weird analogy?—”

“That you started,” I interrupt.

“And you took too far, but it still works. There’s no reason we can’t see who… enjoys it more.”

“What if neither of us enjoy it?”

“My understanding is that our pleasure spot is in our asses. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say the odds are at least one of us will.”

“Okay, so we’ll take turns.”

Etna shakes his head. I’m receiving that indulgent smile again. “We’re not scheduling our sex life. We’ll just see how it happens, Keno. See who’s in the mood when the mood strikes. Which brings us to another of your questions—how often? Again, we don’t need to decide that ahead of time.”

“You skipped the part about your sex drive. I want to know if you’re a horny fucker or if you’re more content with once or twice a week,” I point out.

“I guess it kind of depends on my partner. If I’m super attracted to them, I want it more often.”

I push myself up so that I’m on my knees and drag my hand down my bare chest and abs. “You’re attracted to this, aren’t you?”

He huffs. “Seriously, Keno. You’re ridiculous.”

Grinning, I sit back on my haunches. “You missed two questions. Sex acts and cuddles.”

“I don’t know what sex acts you’re referring to,” he answers warily.

“Well, there’s the basics like bjs and handies and shit. I think there are probably more.”

“Basics, yeah. I don’t see why not. And cuddling, yes, too. I’m good with cuddles.”

I nod, finding I’m stuck in his eyes. Staring at him. Am I really considering this? It’s insane, isn’t it? A foolish idea. I know I suggested that it’s smarter to marry someone you’re completely compatible with instead of on your fickle ability to fall in love with someone, but… I’m torn.

Etna’s right. I think if we’re open to it, we could love each other that way easily enough. If I’m willing to be honest and examine what’s between us, I’m sure I’d find we would probably be halfway there if we weren’t so deeply surrounded by a heteronormative culture that screams at us from all angles—billboards, commercials, Hallmark movies, songs, social media, fairy tales...

If the world were a queer-accepting society, I’m pretty sure we’d have fallen in love hard and fast.

So why am I hesitating? Is it the gay sex thing? It is, isn’t it? Drunk kissing a dude is one thing. Other stuff is a little… daunting.

But I’m not horrified by the idea or turned off by the eventuality. As long as I keep in mind that it’s Etna.

“What else?” Etna asks, his voice quiet. “What other concerns do you have?”

Shaking my head, I whisper, “I don’t know. I just… This doesn’t feel real right now. I hadn’t meant for you to take it seriously and I’m kind of honored that you are. With me! I think I’m hesitating for the same reasons I dread trade season. I’m afraid of something screwing up what we have now.”

Etna nods. “I know that feeling. But Keno, what if it gets better?”

“Is that even possible?”

He smirks. “We are sans orgasms right now. Just saying.”

I laugh. Fucking guy.

A knock on our door makes us drop the subject. I glance at the clock and sigh. We made plans with the guys to shoot some zombies tonight. No doubt that’s them.

I back off the bed and head for the door. This is why I’m in bed pants and Etna’s in shorts and a tank. I suppose even that should be telling about how comfortable we are around each other. Usually, when we know it’s just us for the night, we’re in our underwear. I wonder if we’ll sleep naked if we get married.

To accommodate all the sex, we’ll have to. It’s mandatory. It’s going in our vows.

Does that mean I’m agreeing?

I open the door to Horny and Julian. Letting them in, I’m stopped from shutting it again when I hear Hilt hollering from down the hall as he jogs from the elevator. He shuts the door behind him as I crawl back onto the bed to lean against the headboard with Etna. Hilt shoves my pillows out of the way and shoves me aside.

“I’m old. I need the bed.”

“You best keep your gas to yourself, then. That’s where my head goes,” I mutter, sliding closer to Etna. I ignore the way my palms sweat when my leg brushes his.

This isn’t new. We sit close all the time. Just get a fucking grip. Nothing has changed between us.

Except everything has and might continue to.

If we decide against this, will our friendship recover? I take a breath and let it out slowly. Stop overthinking. For right now, all we’re thinking about is killing zombies.

When I bring my legs under me, my left leg presses against Etna’s. For a second, I’m stiff as I determine whether it’s appropriate. Have I cared before?

His hand lands on my thigh, just over my knee. I glance at him. Etna’s already watching me. For just a second, it’s just us as we stare at each other.

This is fine. Whatever we decide, nothing will break us. We’re best friends. We will endure even this.

I bow my head, feeling foolish for the flush I can feel on my cheeks and my awkwardly shy smile. Fuck’s sake.