Andrew snickered. “Someone’s been playing COD.”
Brian pushed him back against the wall of the treehouse and rubbed against him. “You’ve been gone too much this week. I was bored.”
“Yeah? What else did you do while I wasn’t there?” Andrew kissed down Brian’s neck, hands sliding around to grasp his arse and haul him in even closer. “Did you play with yourself and think of me?”
“Maybe.”
Andrew growled and slammed their mouths together in a wild kiss that Brian felt right down to his toes. He clutched at Andrew, helplessly grinding their dicks together. “I want to fuck again tonight. I love it when you’re inside me.”
“Oh god,” Andrew moaned. “Remember that problem you had at the suit fitting? We’re going to have it again very soon.”
Brian reached for Andrew’s cock, stroking the half-hard length through his pants. “Then I’ll take care of it like you took care of me that day.”
“What the fuck?”
Andrew shoved Brian back and he staggered into the opposite wall, shocked. Across from him, Andrew was staring at the hatch in the floor, horrified.
“What. The. Fuck.” James repeated, looking from Andrew to Brian and back again from his position halfway into the treehouse. He looked confused at first, then realisation dawned and his eyes narrowed into a glare, his jaw tightening. Then he spat out, “You fucking cheating prick,” at Andrew, then he turned on Brian. “You fucking lied to us.”
“James,” Andrew began, but their friend shouted, “Fuck the both of you!” over the top of him and then dropped out of sight.
All the air had left Andrew’s lungs. That look of rage James had given him, then Brian, sent freezing waves through him. He didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. James had been so accepting when Andrew came out. What . . . Why would he . . .?
“Andrew?” Brian’s voice was rough and cracked on the last syllable of his name. He looked lost, standing there on the other side of the tiny space, arms wrapped around himself.
The thought of him hurting, of being hurt by James, spurred Andrew into action. He threw himself down the ladder so fast he nearly fell the last several feet.
“James,” he bellowed. “Stop.”
Ahead of him, James jerked to a halt, then spun around. “You’re out. No longer best man.”
“What the hell? Why?” Andrew got up close and lowered his voice. “Because of me and Brian?”
James tossed his head and stepped back, looking anywhere but at him. “Jesus Christ, you’re fucking him. You’re actually fucking him.”
“You didn’t mind it the other day. Just because it’s Brian it’s suddenly disgusting?” Andrew kept his fists at his sides because the urge to throw them was real.
“Do you know how much you hurt Elle? Do you even care?” James came back in tight, fist pressed into Andrew’s chest as if he too was barely resisting. “I held that woman for weeks. She was devastated when she left you. I comforted her after you wrecked her and she would never tell me why. Guess I know now.”
James moved to turn and go again, but Andrew caught his arm. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I always wondered if you cheated on Elle and that’s why she left you.”
“I didn’t—”
But James rambled right on without stopping. “It’s Brian, right? The guy you’ve liked for a long, long time. You and him have been fucking ever since, haven’t you?”
“Jesus Christ, James, listen—”
“That’s why Brian hasn’t had a girlfriend. Or you.” He jutted his chin over Andrew’s shoulder. “And you, lying to us like that. Making us all apologise for something that was true all along.”
Andrew heard Brian’s gasp of shock clearly, knowing he must have been right behind him, hearing everything James was saying. He gave James a shove, putting space between them. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You need to shut the fuck up right now.”
Teeth gritted, James ground out, “It’s true though. Brian’s gay, or not straight, or what the fuck ever, and him and you made us all feel bad for ever thinking it.”
“What the fuck?” a new voice demanded.
Andrew spun and found Troy a couple of feet behind Brian, who was curled in over his abdomen like he was in physical pain.
Troy looked from Brian to Andrew, then to James. “What the fuck?” He didn’t look angry, thankfully, just wildly confused. “Brian? You are gay?”
Usually the first to arc up in a confrontation, Brian didn’t answer. He just straightened and started walking away from them, towards the exit of the field. They had gathered a few spectators, though hopefully none of them were close enough to hear.
“I can’t believe you, man,” James said, quieter but no less incensed.
“James?” Mr. Rollins came towards them, still wearing the stupid tutu. “Everything all right, boys?”
“Yeah,” James snapped, turning his back on Andrew. “Just rearranging the wedding party to get rid of the cheaters and liars.”
“Just listen—” Andrew tried, but James walked away. His dad gave Andrew a frown, then went after his son. Troy was looking at him like he didn’t know him, then he too followed after James and Mr. Rollins.
Andrew wanted to go after them, tell them what James wasn’t willing to hear, but his heart ached for Brian, to make sure he was okay first. He found his boyfriend out by the road, booking an Uber on his phone.
“Brian?” Andrew went to his side. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head and stared into the distance.
Instinct to hold and protect drew Andrew’s arm up to circle his shoulders, but Brian moved away.
“Don’t.”
Andrew understood, but it hurt. James’s accusations were sitting like a burning coal under his breastbone and he wanted a safe place to let out the flames. Brian had been his safe place for so long, so steady and reliable, he didn’t have any others.
The wait for the Uber was excruciating. The remains of the bachelor party piled into the vans and took off. Even after they were gone Brian wouldn’t let Andrew touch him. Finally, the Uber arrived, they got in and Andrew replied to the driver’s cheery chatting with single word answers.
At home, Brian raced upstairs immediately, bypassing a meowing Archy aiming to mash his face into Brian’s legs. Andrew caught the cat and followed Brian.
“You okay?” he asked as Brian turned into his bedroom.
“No, I’m not fucking okay.” Brian’s voice was rough and wavering.
Putting Archy down before his anger made him squeeze the cat too tight, Andrew muttered, “I’m going to kill James.”
“Something you could have done half an hour ago.” Brian dragged his sports bag out of the cupboard, opened it on the bed, and started tossing work clothes into it without a care for folding.
“What?” It was part angry “what did you say?” and part hurt “what are you doing?”
Brian balled up a dress shirt and threw it into his bag hard. “Sorry,” he growled. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t your fault. James is just a colossal dickwad and I got outed against my will and I feel so fucking angry about that, but I’m angry at myself as well because I left you to face him on your own and it was my fight too but he accused me of lying and being a cheater and—”