Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

dentured grin and gray rheumy eyes were lit with hope of scandal.
    Jase jerked a thumb at Denver. “The Hulk here left his shift at one to go fuck the living hell out of a twink in the storeroom last night. Kevin saw the kid sprawled on the table, legs spread, Denver going to town on his cock.”
    “Wish I’d seen it,” a second old man said. He looked almost wistful.
    “Next time I’ll tell Kev to take pictures. Maybe I should take Den off the door and hire him to do peep shows with his tricks.”
    Denver laughed and played along with the ribbing, but when Kevin showed up at eight and Jase went back to his office, Denver followed and hung in the doorframe until Jase looked up at him.
    “Hey, Jase—could you do me a favor?” He jerked his head at the main room. “If Adam—the guy I had in the storeroom—comes back in, could you save your ribbing for me and spare him?” He wanted to explain why, but he didn’t have the words, so he left it at that.
    Jase’s eyebrows went up. “Damn.” He smiled. “So there really was somebody you wanted a day off for, huh?”
    He didn’t take the teasing bait, because this was important. “Adam’s kind of special.” He realized that made it sound like Adam was thick in the head or something and frowned. “I mean, he’s smart as fuck. He’s a grad student studying moths. But he’s—” He cut himself off, lost again. Not shy. Skittish? Goddamn, this was why he stuck to weights.
    “Special to you,” Jase finished for Denver. He smiled now, looking almost amused. “I get it. You might want to talk to Kevin, though. He really enjoyed spreading your story.”
    “Story’s fine. I just don’t want anyone making Adam uncomfortable, because it’s easier to do than you think. But yeah, I’ll tell Kevin to give Adam space.”
    “Your boy coming back tonight? Because much as I don’t mind your backroom adventure this time, I’d prefer you kept your extracurriculars to your house during personal time, as a general rule.”
    Denver grimaced at that. “Yeah. That one’s got a weird kink in the details, but I’ll work it out.” He remembered his fear someone had hurt Adam and went stony.
    Jase gave him a funny look, then shook his head and waved him away. “Go man the door, Denver. Oh—and by the way, you’re clear for Sunday.” He winked. “For your picnic.”
    Denver grunted and left, but he didn’t flip Jase off this time.
    It wasn’t a bad night—Thursday nights were frat boy night by some official decree, drawing the gay house at Tuck U and the stragglers from the other houses at both campuses. It always blew Denver’s mind that any frat boys could be openly gay. Not that he was ever even remotely one for Greek life, period, but still. Some of these guys’ straight buddies came with them on frat night, some out of solidarity and some out of some extreme–reverse machismo from what Denver could tell. Those ones were easy to spot, because they always ended up hanging out with him at the door, assuming he was straight because he was stacked. That was always a good time, because eventually Denver would hit on them and make them freak out.
    Though every now and again, he got laid that way. He wasn’t sure if there were more gay men per square inch now in the younger generations, or if they were just curious.
    He had a few fish on his line: a bi-curious tagalong to one of the frats and a sweet, bubble-butt, dark-haired twink who normally would have had his crank going hard—but Denver kept holding out hope that Adam would show up, and no way was he having hamburger when he could have steak. Adam stayed away, though, and he didn’t text or phone, either. So on Friday morning after a late breakfast but before his workout, he did something he’d never done before, not since leaving Oklahoma City.
    Denver called first.
    He considered texting, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell to say. Dirty come-ons were the only thing he could think of, and something about that didn’t feel right. Well, they felt right, yeah, but not yet. Not now.
    Not something. Something else was supposed to happen right now, but Denver didn’t know what the hell it was, so he called. Thankfully, Adam answered, so he didn’t have to leave a message.
    “This is Denver,” he said, when Adam answered with a hesitant hello. “How you doing?”
    “Hey.” Denver relaxed at the brightness in Adam’s tone. “I’m good. What about you?”
    “Not bad. About to go work