I knocked on Trace’s bedroom door and he let me in. Zeke smiled at me from the bed. I glanced at Trace, wondering if Zeke and I could have a little PDA with Trace.

                Trace sighed and shrugged. “Do whatever, as long as your clothes stay on,” he grumbled.

                “Zeke!” I cheered and launched into his arms. He fell over on Trace’s bed as he caught me and laughed, kissing me. “Hi,” he said with a smile. He sat up and wrapped his arms around me.

                We glanced at Trace. “What are we doing tonight?” we asked at the same time. We laughed as Trace rolled his eyes and sat next to us. “Whatever,” he said.

                “Threesome!” I shrieked.

                “Gross,” Zeke and Trace cried at the same time.

                “I don’t want Juliet’s sloppy seconds,” Zeke said, grinning at Trace as Trace flipped him off.

                “You’re just jealous that I can get it in,” Trace said with a shrug.

                “Okay Trace, no one wants to hear about your sex life,” Zeke said, laughing. “Unless your dad…”

                Trace rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t tell my dad, and you know it. So shut up,” he said simply. Zeke shrugged and smirked. “It’s just nice to have some blackmail. Oh Mr. Saunders, your beloved innocent son isn’t a virgin,” he said, his voice sweetly threatening.

                “Zeke,” Trace said in a threatening voice.

                Zeke laughed again and kissed my cheek. “I’m not that mean Trace,” he said with an innocent smile. Trace watched him suspiciously.

                “I just get the feeling that everyone on your soccer team is mean,” I said with a curious frown.

                My eyes widened a little and I slapped a hand over my mouth as Zeke stared at me in shock. He narrowed his eyes at me as I blushed. Trace rolled his eyes again.

                “What do you mean? Kory, what happened? What do you mean?” Zeke asked. I pulled my hand away from my mouth and shook my head slowly.

                “Ah…n-nothing,” I said nervously.

                Zeke glared from me to Trace. “Trace, what does he mean? What happened? Did they hurt you Kory? Trace, did they hurt him?” His voice was starting to scare me a little.

                “No, there was just a little misunderstanding today. No one hurt me. I’m perfectly fine,” I said with a smile. “I would’ve gone all ninja on their asses. I know Koryfu!” I made random chopping motions with my hands.

                “Who was it, and what did they do?” Zeke asked flatly, his eyes on Trace.

                “It was Davey, Sammy, and Greg. They were just threatening him a little. They didn’t actually hurt him. I got there in time and warned them off. Kory was fine,” Trace said with a shrug.

                “If they ever get near you, you tell me Kory. Got it?” Zeke demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I’ll kick their sorry homophobic asses.”

                “Zeke, you’re scaring me,” I said with a pout. I bonked him on the head. “Now stop being scary! BE NICE AGAIN!” I bonked him on the head again, my pout getting even deeper.

                Zeke rubbed his head and kissed me deeply. “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll be nice again. Just stop hitting me!” he whined.

                “Hey, lovers, can we actually do something now?” Trace asked in annoyance.

                “Well we would do something if you told us what you wanted to do! Duh! God Trace you’re so stupid!” I cried, shaking my head.

                “Kory, why did your parents divorce?” Trace asked.

                The question was so sudden that it caught me completely off guard. My face fell and I stared at him in confusion.

                “Wait, my ears fell off. What did you say?” I asked then realized what I had just said. “Aw man! My ears didn’t fall off. I would need a doctor for that. Or a gynecologist. Or an ear specialist. One of those three. Anyways, I didn’t hear you is what I meant. What did you say?”

                “Why did your parents divorce?” he repeated, his expression calm, cold, and curious.

                “Trace!” Zeke said with a frown.

                “I’m curious. I want to know. I’m sure he knows about my mom by now, but I don’t know anything about his dad,” Trace said simply, leaning back and watching me curiously.

                “My dad. Right. Dad. Guy with a thing dangling between his legs that he shoved in my mom for my conception. Him. Right,” I began to babble nervously.

                “Kory, stop. You don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. Trace is just being an ass,” Zeke said, shooting a look at Trace and tightening his arms around me.

                “No. He’s going to talk about,” Trace said with a shrug.

                I shook my head at Zeke when he went to yell at Trace. I kissed him gently and forced a small smile. “It’s okay Zeke,” I said.

                I turned to Trace as Zeke took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. I bit my lip and sighed. “My dad…He was, uh, he was not a nice guy. He was a drunk, and he used to hit me and my mom. But I don’t really remember him that well. He drove himself home from the bar one night and got in a crash. He didn’t make it out alive. I was six.”

                I shifted uncomfortably. I hated talking about that, because I hated the relief I had felt when my mom explained that my dad was gone and never coming back. I hated remembering both of our relief at his funeral. I hated feeling like a bad person for feeling glad that my own father was dead. But he really used to beat me, and I had been a defenseless little boy.

                I turned and kissed Zeke. He held me tightly and I rested my head on his shoulder and forced a smile. “So, that’s my side. What’s yours?”

                Trace shrugged, unconcerned. “My mom had me, didn’t care for me, and left when I was eight years old. She was a workaholic. Shitty mother.” He shrugged again.

                We fell into an awkward silence. “So…dance party!” I screamed, jumping out of Zeke’s lap and beginning to dance the funky chicken.

                “Oh…oh god. What the hell are you doing?” Zeke asked in horror.

                “The funky chicken!” I screamed. “DANCE THE DANCE OF FUNKY CHICKENS!”

                “Zeke…control it. Or kill it with it fire. Just do something before I go blind,” Trace groaned, covering his eyes and shaking his head.

                Zeke grabbed my hand and dragged me back down to his lap. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, making me feel like I was in a Zeke-shaped straightjacket. A very comfy, warm Zeke-shaped straightjacket.

                I pouted and gave Zeke puppy dog eyes. “I want to get down like a funky chicken,” I whined. He pressed his lips to mine gently and shook his head.

                “If you ever do that again, I’m going to rip your limbs off and feed them to a hobo,” Trace said, still shaking his head. “That was so disturbing.”

                “Psh! You guys just don’t know good dancing when you see it!” I said, rolling my eyes at their stupidity. I should be on Dancing With The Stars. I would win for sure!

                “Oh Kory. This is why I love you,” Zeke said, laughing. He kissed me before shifting and pulling me off of his lap.

                “Zeke! Where are you going? I was sitting there you asshat!” I whined, missing his lap. It was so comfortable and…lap-like…

                “There’s this thing called a bladder. When it gets full, I have to empty it. I figured you didn’t want to be on my lap for that part of my urine’s journey. I’ll be back soon Corny. Try not to miss me too much,” he said with a wink before leaving Trace’s room.

                “I miss him too much,” I said with a pout. “Get him back here Trace! Right now!”

                Trace sat up and shifted closer to me. “You and Zeke are…good…together.” He spoke the words as if they caused him some pain to form. Still, I smiled a little.

                “Thanks Trace,” I mumbled.

                “Kory, how did you know you were gay?” he asked quietly. “Not that I’m gay! I’m just wondering. I still like my girlfriend and sex with her. I don’t like guys at all,” he added quickly.

                I chuckled and shrugged. “I just knew. I had feelings for guys, I found them attractive, and I dreamt of kissing them…it was pretty obvious for me. I didn’t fight against it, either. I just accepted it as who I was, and told my mom. Then I came out to my friends, family, and the school. I didn’t care what homophobes said about me. I was just happy to be myself. I was better than them, because I wasn’t afraid to be myself. I never let them beat me down.” I gave Trace a goofy grin.

                “Kory…I want to try something. It…it doesn’t mean anything though. Nothing at all. I just want to try it,” Trace said, his voice barely audible and nervous.

                “What?” I asked curiously. “What do you want to tr-” My sentence was cut off when Trace’s soft lips connected with my own.

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A.N.- I am EVIL leaving you guys here >:3 And since I'll be gone until Sunday... ;)

But maybe if you guys comment/vote a shit ton, I'll upload the next chapter (which is a long one!) before I got to bed tonight ;D (Yes, I'm a comment/vote whore so...DO IT! BE MY PIMPS!<3 Instead of STDs, I give you chapters!) :3