“God, that was awful,” He says, wanting to get it out of the way. 

“I don’t know, I personally love getting felt up during drinks.” They both snicker, and He finds His fingers creeping toward His best friend’s splayed out on the leather seat.

“Next time they ask if we’re dating someone, we just lie.”

“But you know they’ll ask us to meet them immediately. And for pictures.” 

He groans, tossing His head back. “Let’s just tell them the truth?”

“What, that we can’t stand other people?” he bites his tongue, choosing to shift and look out the window at the lights streaking by as they zoom down the highway. 

What he said is true enough. But it feels wrong to Him, or more like… only half right. There is something missing, but that missing piece seems to be wedged between them, growing wider each passing day.

“Don’t you want a family, though? You used to talk about having a son to play basketball with. Before you know it, you’ll be too old to teach him.”

“Gotta find the right person is all.” He doesn’t know why they’re talking about this, but His ire from earlier in the evening returns. Where does this guy get off? Let’s see how you like it… “And what about you?” He turns as much as the seat belt allows to glare at His best friend. 

The turn in conversation makes the back of his neck hot. he knows his shoulders are too tight, and he wishes he could swallow his words back up. Why did God make such a stubborn man? “I’ve been told mom not to concern herself with grandchildren; she’s just stubborn. Almost as bad as you.” 

he says it so matter-of-factly that He doesn’t know what to make of it. Since when doesn’t he want kids? 

They always said they’d get married and have sons that would be the best of friends like them; itt's why He hasn’t given up on these dates completely. But, when it comes time to perform, things never worked how he wanted them to; in fact, He can count on one hand how many times He’s been intimate with women.

For a long time He felt like a broken jack-in-the-box; no matter how they wound Him up it never sprung out at the ready. But the few He had dated for longer than a month were… different; over time they would become more attractive and He would start fantasizing about them. And when it came time to have sex with those women,  His body responded as expected, and it often felt really good, but at the end, when they were covered in sweat and the heady scent of sex, He would feel empty. Usually after that, He’d withdraw from the woman, and they would eventually break up. 

But in spite of the emptiness, He kept striving for their dream. And now this asshole says he doesn’t even want the little shits… 

“I can hear steam coming out of your ears,” His best friend mutters as the car comes to a stop in front of their house. 

They share a two bedroom, two bath home just on the edge of the city. Since they both work in the same area, they moved in together after graduating college. Living together is as easy as breathing, both men finding their domestic role seamlessly. 

He likes to clean: bathrooms, kitchens, the floors, anything that requires Him to get cleaner fluid. Or  bleach. His best friend on the other hand is a foodie, and as such dedicates a lot of his spare time to cooking and trying new recipes. his mother had been anal about laundry growing up, so he also takes care of the sorting and washing. 

They fold together though, usually during binge watching sessions on the weekend, which was an activity he rather enjoyed.

Shit, I forgot to sort the clothes before we left, he thinks as he stumbles out of the car. he’d been playing drunk before, but something about the car ride must have made the alcohol really kick in. “Shit.”

“Come on,” his friend says, taking him by the arm up the driveway. “Let’s get you some water.”