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you’re stuck with me.” He walks back over, carrying a stack of my clothes. “Exclusively.” “Huh?” “While we’re hooking up. Cumpanions, or dick dudes, or whatever you want to call us. It’s just us, okay?
“Calling me a slut, Brando?” “If the empty jumbo pack of extra-large condoms fits …”
“Okay, are you only hooking up, or are you actually boyfriends?” “We’re bros. Who hook up. And are friends.” “So you’re brofriends?” Holy shit, that makes perfect sense. “That’s what we are.” “Huh?” “Brofriends. We’re not dating, but we’re not just brothers anymore either.”
“Brolationship crisis,
Butt sex, then bail?
There must be some heavy drugs in his cum, because I never would have thought the sight of a fucking fanny pack could make me feel soft, and yet, here we are.
You’re like a Pokémon, and my dick chooses you.”
“B-boyfriend? Not brofriend?” “No. We can stop kidding ourselves that this is nothing, because I think it might be everything.”
He’s got the hots for you. A little presidential hanky-pank? A VIP spank and wank?”
