Вы не представляете, какая нужна сила воли, чтобы держать себя в руках и не дать им даже пообжиматься! А всё почему? Потому что Картер на данном этапе ещё убежден в том, что он "нитакой". А Брайан - в том, что... ну, они же лучше друзья, а с лучшим другом спать нельзя. Мвуахаха! 😂
Но как же я люблю писать их тройничок с Амандой! Ыыыыы...
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"So," said Brian, "next weekend. . . . Wales, right?
He lay on the floor, face upwards, arms behind his head, his smiling face, red, and high, and stupid. Carter slipped closer. He looked at Brian, eyes wandering and foggy, cheeks tingling on fire, heart pulsing in his throat.
Baboom!
Baboom!
Baboom!
Maybe they shouldn't've had that refill. It was already too much, it was too much! He couldn't. He couldn't. . . . He had to burst open.
He choked on his own breath, trying to sound casual.
"Wales, yeah," he said. "You're. . . ready?"
Brian turned to face him.
"All packed," he said. "Well, 'cept the raincoat. Gotta get a new one, fast. Mine's trash. You?"
Another flush hit Carter. Badly. He squeezed his thighs together, and nearly moaned. He can't know, he thought. He cannot fucking know!
"I didn't mean ready for the camp," he whispered. "I meant. . . you know. . ."
"Oh, that," Brian whispered back. "You're asking if I packed any condoms?"
Their noses were two inches apart or so. They were staring each other in the stupid faces with their stupid smiles, and their stupid bangs in the way of. . . . Carter bit his lip.
"No. That's not. . . " he said. "I mean. . . . You two have done it already, haven't you?"
He'd stared too long at Brian's stupid big mouth. He could hear his own heart again. Pumping blood in all the unfortunate directions.
Brian smiled.
"Am and I? Sure."
"So?" asked Carter. "How was it?"
"Um. . . alright, I guess?" Brian gave an awkward snicker, and his cheeks and the tips of his ears got even redder. "Don't think she was too impressed."
His freckles were darker now, more pronounced against his blushing skin. Carter could see every single spot on his nosetip.
"Oh," he said.
"Yeah. . ."
Brian performed a laboured smirk. His upper lip kinda twitched. "Though she said I was better than Mike," he added, still blushing quite pathetically.
Carter winced. Mike Turder happened to them the year before. His real surname was Turner, but B&C called him Turder for factuality reasons. It started at the beginning of spring term, when Amanda suddenly decided she was fed up with all the nasty gossip about her dating two guys at the same time, which she wasn't, of course, otherwise B&C would have known, right, seeing that they were the guys in question. So she jump-started with a string of abhorrently stupid dates with guys, who weren't remotely interested in her as a person, and only cared about the C-cup bras she wore, and all the sneaky ways to take them off her real fast, along with her panties. Mike Turder was one of those boys. For two dark and vicious, and agonisingly long terms B&C had been sidelined, and ushered back, and made to watch Am having fun from a safe distance. It was utterly pathetic, how quickly they went from 'those cool boys allegedly dating one of the hottest girls in Cheadle High' to 'a couple of sore blue-balled losers'. Still, they respected her decision. They complied with her every whim. They kept their distance. And yet it wasn't enough for Mike. He was too insecure. He hated B&C for being a constant in Amanda's life. B&C hated him for taking Amanda away from them, and also for the dull, half-witted, unsophisticated fucktard that he was.
"Is this why we're doing it?" Carter asked. "To get back at Mike?"
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