Sure, our high school friend group was fruity as hell with each other, but that’s how some guys joke around. James wasn’t even the most intense out of all of us.
Then again, he tried playing gay chicken with me once, andIwas the one who had to call it quits when he came to my house in a suit, real marriage paperwork in tow, and asked my dad forhis blessing. Maybe winning gay chicken against an actual gay guy should have tipped James off, but hey, I’m glad he figured himself out.
Yeah for sure, I have tons to drink at my place so dw about bringing too much
But I have to ask. Bf? How did that happen?
Yeah so basically I moved in with one of my teammates and then started to like him out of nowhere
Apparently I’m bi and now we’re dating
He’s Ethan btw
The guy plays major league baseball, and he’s dating one of histeammates? That’s… kinda cute, actually.
Maybe there’s love to be found in professional sports.
No.Don’t go there.
“So?” Stefano says. “Is he coming?”
“James? Yeah, he is.”
Stefano cheers and then announces that he’ll help clean my house in preparation, and I decide to stock up on drinks for tonight, as promised—the company party alcohol heist didn’t net any beer.
Once Carl and I get back, straining with our arms full, we stuff my fridge and sit down, watching Stefano try to work my vacuum.
“Need some help there?” I ask as he gives the top a firm smack.
“Please.”
I walk over and take the vacuum from him, demonstrate how to activate the trigger, and then hand it back before pulling out my steamer. Having people over wasn’t something I wasexpecting until my friends showed up, and even though I try to keep my house tidy, it could use some work. Carl is sprawled on the couch, ordering food from some app, and I kick him off so I can clean it.
And then I get a great idea. I have two bottles of red wine that are way too cheap to drink neat, and I have the Swedish mulled wine recipe that Erik sent me.
“Hey, Carl,” I say, turning my steamer off. “Did you place that order yet?”
He shakes his head. “Did you want anything?”
“Yeah. I wanna make mulled wine, and I might need ingredients.”
Carl pauses his scrolling before handing me his phone. “Mulled wine, huh? That’s random.”
Nodding, I reference the translated recipe that Erik sent while looking through Carl’s food order, buying cardamom seeds for the first time in my life. “Yeah, a friend sent me a recipe.”
“German?”
“Nah, Swedish.” I hand the phone back to Carl and notice Stefano giving me a weird look, and I shoot him one back, hoping he doesn’t prod.
Thankfully, the only thing Stefano does is crack open a bottle of vodka and pour an outrageous shot for each of us, handing me a glass and motioning for me to take it. The alcohol hits like a gust of wind to the face, but I manage to keep my expression neutral. I’m not even a year out of university, after all.
Once the shot settles, I realize Stefano started a chain reaction, and our night kicks off at the early hour of four in the afternoon. James said he’d only arrive after seven, so the rest of us finish setting up, unpack the food Carl ordered, and then discover that Carl neglected to buy anything except for chips.
We make a slightly inebriated last-minute run to the shawarma place downstairs, and after we finish, it’s already six-thirty.
The house is in decent shape, we’re well-fed, and there’s nothing left to do, so I give the guys free rein on my game console and get to work on the mulled wine, only to get stuck on the second step.
Add 2 dl of sugar to the pot.
