Abe threw the second one at Ty’s shoulder. “Look how fucking cheap these things are, asshole! Condoms shouldn’t break like that!” Ty didn’t hear him; he was too busy mourning over his soaked outfit, too busy grabbing another condom and filling it up under the other sink. “You fucking dick!” He was, of course, far more athletic than Abe, and his aim was unsurprisingly truer. He hit Abe square in the mouth with his balloon. The fight immediately paused—a moment common in every boyfight; breath-holding combatants waiting to see how serious a potential injury might be, if the action needed to be
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