Listen to me. You have the fashion sense of a park bench and the interpersonal skills of a meat cleaver--"

"Is this supposed to be helping?"

"Let me finish--"

"What's next? The size of my cock?"

"Hey, even pencils can get the job done--I've heard the moaning from your room to prove it.

The guy stroked his goatee. "What do you call twenty guys watching the world series?"
"The New York Yankees," Butch replied.

You want to poof it or ride back with me?

V rolled the Aquafina bottle between his palms. "How long have you wanted to ask me the question? About the gay thing."
"For a while."
"Afraid of what I'd say?"
"Nope, because it doesn't matter to me one way or the other. I'm tight with you whether you like males or females or both."
V looked into his best friend's eyes and realized… yeah, Butch wasn't going to judge him. They were cool no matter what.
With a curse, V rubbed the center of his chest and blinked. He never cried but he felt as if he could at this moment.

Butch nodded as if he knew exactly what was doing. "Like I said, my man, it's whatever. You and me? Same as always, no matter who you screw. Although… if you're into sheep, that would be tough. Don't know if I could handle that.

Thanks for putting me up for it ... trahyner." As V's eyes flared, Butch said, "Yeah, I looked up what the word meant. 'Beloved Friend' fits you perfect as far as I'm concerned."

V Flushed. Cleared his throat. "Good Deal, cop. Good... deal.