At least that was what Tucker heard. He’d only been half-listening, because Chad’s tighty-whities had a wet spot, and the source of which, the exact spot it seeped from, was so perfectly outlined, as clear as the man in sepia expelling his release in the magazine, Tucker couldn’t help but stare.
“Sorry,” Chad said. “It kind of hurts.”
Tucker smiled. It looked so thick, he could see why it would, all cramped up in such a tight space. “It’s okay. Is it okay if I look?”
Chad pulled his shirt tails over his front. Apparently it wasn’t. “I betcha someday…somewhere…right now…two men being in love with each other is no big deal. As soon as I can, I’m going to find that place.”
“You’re brave.” Tucker said it again. He couldn’t believe timid, easily-rattled Chad seemed so matter-of-fact about all things homosexual.
“Only around you. I could never, like, sing at all if you didn’t sit next to me.”
“Naw.”
“And I could never kiss a guy. I could probably never kiss anyone…if it wasn’t you.”