by Zoicite
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Howie wanted poetry and odes and sonnets. He looked and never saw them, but took Nick anyway. “You’re bad for my health,” Howie said, letting the ice cream melt on his tongue. Nick turned away from the television and rotated the container so he could read the label. “Honey vanilla,” he said. Nick kissed Howie and his mouth burned.  He and Nick made up a secret handshake and AJ said, “What is wrong with you guys?” and Brian said, “You two flirt in a foreign language.” Nick’s laugh was high and loud and Kevin said, “I have a headache,” and shut the door to his hotel room. They left Brian standing against the fence at the zoo, talking to Leighanne on his cell phone. Nick pushed Howie’s arm hard enough that Howie stumbled, and then pulled him back in and slung an arm over Howie’s shoulders. Howie leaned into Nick a little and they both turned to watch the elephants, drinking from the moat that circled their paddock. “Elephants are boring,” Nick said. The elephant closest to them blinked lazily and flicked an ear, ambled away and Howie agreed. His hand slid over Nick’s ass and Nick raised his eyebrows and said, “You wanna?” Brian waved as they walked away. Later he knocked loudly on Howie’s door, knocked repeatedly until Nick climbed out of bed naked to let him in. Brian pushed past Nick to stand in the center of the room, staring at them both. “You left me at the zoo!” he cried, indignant. Nick climbed back into bed beside Howie. He laughed and Howie tried to look concerned. Brian turned to the television and said, “You’re watching the game?” He ordered room service and climbed into bed between them. “She wrote you a poem?” Nick frowned and paused the Playstation. “Who?” AJ asked. “That’s kinda weird,” Nick said. Howie fingered the piece of paper and smiled. On his birthday, Kevin gave Howie a book on relationships in the workplace. Howie didn’t read it. “She didn’t even write that,” Nick said, glancing at the paper. “I go to the site, man. I’ve read her stuff and she didn’t write that.” Howie shrugged and added the sheet to the stack. He poked at his stomach in the mirror. He could hear the sounds of basketball on the television and then Nick walked into the bathroom. “You’re bad for my health,” Howie said. Nick kissed Howie’s stomach and laughed as his hand slid lower. Howie leaned back and let him, but that wasn’t what he’d meant. AJ had the adjoining room, and since July he was always around. “Let’s have an us night,” Howie said, slipping another sheet of stationary into the manilla envelope he carried. Nick nodded and flipped the bedspread down. “Pizza’s here,” AJ said, sidling through the door that neither of them ever remembered to lock. Nick cheered and reached for the television remote. “No sports,” AJ said, and so they watched cartoons. Howie finished his pizza first. “I have a headache,” he said. He walked into AJ’s room and shut the door. He left Nick for poetry and odes and sonnets. “She doesn’t even write those,” Kevin said, quiet and angry. Howie never said they had to be original. Howie pulled the shirt over his head and fingered the silver handprint. AJ watched him and smiled. “Last time,” he said. AJ looked up. “Hey, Rok,” AJ said right before Brian pinched the back of Howie’s neck. Nick and Kevin looked up too, Kevin’s hand protective on Nick’s back. “You catch the game last night?” Brian asked. Howie shook his head. “We don’t really watch television.” “He was bad for my health,” Nick told Kevin, and Kevin nodded. “Occupational hazard,” AJ added wisely. Howie slipped his jacket over his shoulders and reached for his cellphone. |