“Out of curiosity, when do I grow up and become a fullfledgedman with a penis?”“When words like ‘hump day’ don’t make you giggle like atwelve-year-old,” he retorted, blowing smoke my way.“Wow, that long?”

“When Peter said he was romantic, it was in the way that I was romantic. A blow job and an “I love you” before rolling over and falling asleep.”

“Then I guess the rest of my life will be resigned to doggy style sex." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "I mean however long...when we're...that wasn't a fucking proposal.""Okay.""Don't smile that. Smugness doesn't become you.""Okay.""Scoot the fuck over. You're hogging the bed."Austin and Peter. :')”

“Bunny Slippers watched my appraisal for at least a fullminute before clasping his hands and resting them on the table.“You stand in the doorway, clothes sticking to you like you justgot out of the shower and didn’t dry off.” I hadn’t dried offactually. “Your hair is wet like it’s been raining, but it’s nearninety outside. You glare at me for a good ten minutes beforeyou come over. Sit across from me in my booth, without aninvitation. Don’t introduce yourself. Don’t say hello. Youannounce you’re not gay, but that I made you gay, and I amconfusing you?Well, when he said it like that.”

“Whiskey, glass, pour, toss back, glare. Repeat. “Cop out,” I slurred in retaliation, pointing the empty glass at Peter.“Don’t get drunk. Fuck. I need you sober,” he yelled, snatching the glass out of my hand.“There’s the problem right there. You need me sober. You need my help. You need something from me.” I laughed, tossing the bottle on the sofa, ignoring the glug glug glug as it emptied over my cushions. “And I just need you.”“Need me to what?” He asked with a huff, tipping the bottle right-side up.“Nothing. I just need you,” I whispered and flopped into a nearby recliner.”

“Do you know why I like dogs and not cats? Because whenyou’re talking to dogs, they don’t walk away in order to rimthemselves.~Austin to Cai's cat Begone Cai's, also known as the "fucking hairball with the crazies.”

“Tell me something good about your life," I whispered, needing to hear that he wasn't as broken as I thought him to be.Peter breathed into the handset for about two minutes. I began wondering if he was about to hang up, or had fallen asleep, when he answered. "You." It was so quiet I almost didn't hear it. And then he hung up before I could ask him to repeat himself.I fell asleep, grinning, with the phone still clutched in my hand and my milk souring on the coffee table.”