Gaycation

“How’d it go with that girl? What was her name? Amanda?” July is asking as he sits there in the grass with Patrick, passing back and forth a beer. They were tasked with watching the kids in the pool during July’s younger sister’s birthday party, and they were doing that, sort of. 

Patrick took a swig from the PBR and sighed, leaning back against the tree they were sitting beneath. He rubbed at his scruff, which was one of Patrick’s tics that told you he didn’t wanna talk about this. He never really wanted to talk about this, as in, love. He was completely and utterly consumed by the idea of it, so it plagued him daily that he hadn’t caught it yet. Love was an STI that Patrick was hoping to contract by sleeping with every girl in town. No luck yet. He still hadn’t found his one. 

“Maybe I’ll ask Lacey out,” Patrick grins as he gestures over to July’s teenaged sister, sunbathing by the pool in a light blue bikini. July shot him an unamused glance. He knew Patrick was just joking about his sixteen-year-old sister, but he still reached out and shoved his shoulder.

“Go near my sister and I’ll hang you from this tree by your balls.” 

Patrick laughed at that, finishing off the rest of the beer in one gulp. The sound of all the younger kids squealing and splashing in the pool was never too far off. Patrick’s dark eyes gazed out over them, finding July’s baby sister in the mix, even more baby than Lacey. 

“Bec really wanted a cowboy party?” Patrick chuckles, as he’s flicking the brim of July’s ridiculous cowboy hat. He’d only worn it because his sister had asked him to, to go with her cactus shaped balloons and wild west themed cake. Kids always became obsessed with the weirdest shit. 

“It’s technically Wild West,” July says back with a roll of his eyes, and Patrick just snorts at the semantics. Then he brings up his dating life again, which surprises July. Patrick bringing up his love life was sort of like randomly bringing up your past criminal charges. Patrick always looked guilty and sad and traumatized. 

“I think I need a new approach,” Patrick is sighing wistfully, looking out at the blue sky like it had some sort of answer for him. Maybe the love of his life’s number was written in the afternoon clouds. He only ever talked like a philosopher when he was talking about this, so July already knew what he was referring to.

“So, I take it Amanda wasn’t the one either?” July says, his eyes shifting from the kids in the pool over to Patrick. Patrick and July were sort of yin and yang. They were both nineteen-year-old boys, born only two days apart. July babies, if you hadn’t surmised from July being one of the guy’s names. Patrick was all dark and tan and tall and built, with scruff on his chin. July had baby blue eyes and blonde hair and the lanky body of a runner. They’d spoken a handful of times in high school, but it hadn’t been until they started working at the local Applebee’s together that they started to become friends. 

“Amanda told me my cock is too big. Can you believe that? Too big?” Patrick goes on, throwing up his hands in obvious frustration which only amused July. Whether it was true or not, the huge cock thing, it was still funny. He could imagine Patrick pulling on his boxers and storming out of the room like a girl who’d just been told by the man she was with that he ‘didn’t do condoms’. All offended and red faced and half-naked. 

Patrick was still going on about how too big was a ridiculous complaint, that he’d have accepted too curved… but too big? July just shook his head, pulling off his cowboy hat to let his golden curls breathe.

“Okay, so no Amanda. What’s this new approach?”

---

“You ever thought about fucking dudes… like, just to try?” Patrick asks when he’s prompted later that night about his new genius approach to dating. The bartender Remi, who was making a Dollarita, shot them a scowling sort of look when she heard what Patrick had said. Patrick gave back the same sort of gaze, and then turned his attention back to July, who was staring at him blankly. It was obvious the blonde hadn’t quite caught up with him yet. 

Patrick and July were sat at one of the booths inside the Applebee's dining room, wrapping up sets of silverware into brown napkins. There were a couple hooker-looking girls at the bar with Remi, but other than that, the place was empty. It was almost one in the morning. 

“I’m sorry. You’re gonna start taking it in the ass? That’s your new approach for finding the one?” July asks, and Patrick can’t help but smirk when he sees July’s cheeks flush just slightly as he says the words ‘taking it in the ass’. The dark-haired boy shakes his head, dropping another set of rolled silverware into one of the white plastic bins beside them.

“First of all, do I really strike you as a bottom, dipshit?” Patrick asks in a soft chuckle as he leans across the table and smacks July upside the head. This earns him another glare from Remi, but he just flicks her off and keeps talking, “I’m just saying. My chances of finding my one, go up exponentially if I start seeing dudes, too.”

He was completely and totally obsessed with finding the love of his life. July was rubbing the spot on his temple that Patrick had just smacked, his brows pitched together.

“And you’re just like cool with that? With dating guys?” July sounds both annoyed and incredulous, blinking over and over again at his best friend like he might wake up from this dream any second or something. 

“Listen, if Kat Quinn can give me a blowjob with a retainer in and still get me off—it cannot be that hard,” Patrick says back as he leans back against the booth, the vinyl material squeaking under his weight. July was still just staring at him, like Patrick was speaking some foreign language. It was a bit hard to wrap your head around, because Patrick had never mentioned being interested in men at all. Ever. 

“So, what? You’re gay now?” July can’t help but ask, fishing for some kind of concrete confirmation from the other boy. All of this sounded awfully noncommittal, but then again, that was sort of Patrick’s whole thing. 

“No. I’m just… going on a gaycation,” Patrick explains, making himself grin, which in turn made July smile and shake his head, too. It had to be the dumbest thing that July had ever heard, but he told himself that maybe this was a good thing. Maybe Patrick would finally find the one. 

---

That was all fine and dandy, or July had thought that, until Patrick started coming to him relaying all of his new, queer tinder dates. It was worse, and more detailed, than listening to a football play by play. July thought he would rather hear about that than Patrick having his tongue down some other guy’s throat. (And July hated sports, especially football.) It was beginning to dawn on him that Patrick’s moment of exploration may have also awoken something within him. 

“And then he called me a good boy, can you believe that? It was kind of weird, honestly. But I guess if you’re into that,” Patrick is saying while they’re inside his bedroom like they always were, sitting on his shag carpeting playing Mario Kart. The sound of his mom vacuuming downstairs hummed gently through his shut bedroom door, mirroring the simmering jealousy in July’s stomach. They were sitting on either side of a large extra cheese, mushroom and olive pizza. Their favorite, and July hadn’t even touched it. 

“Right,” July offered, but it was so painfully obvious he was upset that Patrick couldn’t help but pause the game.

“Alright, what’s up with you? You’re being… odd… I mean, more than usual,” Patrick says as he picks up another slice of pizza and starts eating it, crust first. July wants to lie and say nothing was wrong, or at the very least make something up that wasn’t as pathetic as the truth. But then his anger boils over watching Patrick eat his pizza like a fucking moron.

“You’re what’s wrong. You, Patrick.”

“Me?” His mouth is full. July has half a mind to punch him. Or kiss him.

“Yes, you Patrick! Are you really this fucking dense? No wonder you fucking failed geometry twice,” July huffs. Patrick chews, and then swallows, lit only by the glow of Mario Kart, the curtains in his bedroom drawn. 

“Okay, unnecessary. What the fuck did I do?” Patrick asks, dropping the last third of the pizza slice back into the box, running his greasy fingers down the thighs of his checkered boxer shorts. July can’t help but swallow looking down at his thighs. Yeah, he definitely wanted to hit him. In the mouth. With his mouth.

“What haven’t you done these past couple weeks would be a better question! You’ve had amazing rough sex with Jeremy or Jared or whatever, and shared sweet kisses with artsy boys; you’ve gone to all the gay bases and around again and I have to sit and hear about it when all I want is for you to want me!” July starts out annoyed, patronizing, and as the statement breaks down, his anger loses steam and dissipates into something like desperation. He had never felt so pathetic confessing to his best friend while Patrick had greasy fingers and pizza breath. 

“You’re into guys?”

“Evidently, dipshit.”

Patrick smirks, and then grins, and then he’s pushing the pizza box across the carpet so he can kneel right in front of July. 

“Why didn’t you just say something? I’m not a mind reader, July,” Patrick goes on to say, as they sit there on the carpet, their voices suddenly sounding so loud as Patrick’s mom finishes her vacuuming downstairs. July can barely look at Patrick; his face feels hot.

“I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you. But now I realize you’re the stupidest person alive,” July grumbles, and then Patrick laughs, and it seems to cut through some of the tension in the room. Then it comes right back, in a slightly different form, when Patrick reaches out and grabs July’s chin, turning the boy’s face toward him. 

“I think you meant sexy,” Patrick says, smug smile and all.

July blinks, “what?”

“I think you meant sexy, not stupid.”

July scoffs, turning his face away from Patrick’s hand, his palms pushing at Patrick’s shoulders. He hadn’t been planning to follow through with that until he was straddling Patrick on the floor, it just sort of happened. 

“No, I definitely meant stupid,” July says, but his voice doesn’t hold any bite anymore, just breathlessness as their positioning set in. Patrick’s hands are on his hips, playing with the hem of his shirt. 

“Is it stupid to ask you to kiss me?” Patrick asks, his brown eyes trained on July’s face, on the way his blonde curls are falling down into his eyes. July wants to lean in and immediately taste his lips, mushroom and olives be damned. But then he speaks instead. 

“It is stupid, because once I start, I’m not going to stop.”

“Sounds good. Really good.” Patrick was all smiles, still. 

“Be careful what you wish for.” July was smiling now, too.

Patrick grinned even wider at that, and something stirred in both of them that for that night would go unnamed. For once, though, Patrick felt a serenity that he thought impossible. Had the one been right in front of him all along, just an arm’s reach away? He really was the stupidest person alive. And yet, July kissed him, anyway. Over and over again, until that game of Mario Kart felt like it was lifetimes ago. They never did finish it. The game or the pizza… because July kept his word.