Bitter Taffy by Amy Lane

was about four inches taller—probably because Adam was all lean strength and Rico was built a little stockier. The ribbed tank was snug—but then it was meant to be—and the bowling-style shirt actually looked really good with Rico’s caramel skin.
    Well, Finn probably couldn’t wear clothes like this, Rico had to concede. With his hair and eyes, it would look garish and clashy—but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them on.
    Rico was just patting down his ass for the familiar lump of his wallet and his phone when Finn shouted, “Rico, I fished your wallet and shit out of the corpse shorts! Stop looking under the bed for it!”
    “Oh God,” Rico muttered, and then he petted Jake the comatose cat twice for luck and ran out to the front room.
    Finn was wandering around the living room, picking up Rico’s clothes and folding them to put them away, which was so generous that for a second it made Rico’s throat catch. God, he was a nice kid. Then Rico heard what he was actually saying to Derek, and wanted to build a life-size gerbil cage so they could lockFinn in it.
    “Yeah, he must have been really nervous. He’s been trying to find decent clothes forever . I appreciate you giving me a ride back to Old Sac—I don’t mind if you just drop me off before you go over the bridge to the field. Adam didn’t want Rico alone before the big date. Yeah—oh, hey, Rico!”
    Rico stood there, looking at Derek and feeling stupid.
    Derek knew what looked good.
    A River Cats jersey and denim shorts. That was all. But the confidence he wore it with? That was dazzling.
    However, when he saw Rico, he straightened and gave a low whistle. “Don’t you look nice,” he said, voice low and suggestive.
    Rico had to fight not to go get the “corpse shorts” and throw them on.
    “Uhm.” That was it. Brain blown. Conversation over. It was going to be the worst date in history.
    “Darrin helped us pick it out,” Finn said proudly, shoving the last of Rico’s clothes in his dresser.
    “Darrin?” Derek pulled his alarmingly intense blue-eyed gaze from Rico and back to Finn, and Rico felt like he could breathe again.
    “Yeah—he’s got a thing for Rico.”
    Rico’s eyes widened, and Derek’s must have too, because Finn wrinkled his nose at both of them and shook his head.
    “No, no, not like that. Like he had a thing for Adam—wants to give him advice and stuff. He keeps telling Adam to bring him by the store so he can… what was it? Oh yeah. ‘Assess the damage.’”
    “I had no idea,” Rico said, bemused.
    “Yeah, Adam keeps telling him to keep his big nose out of your business.” Finn started to pet Clopper, who was looking at them balefully, as though he knew he was about to be left alone again. “We’ll be back, Clopper. Don’t worry. I’ve got a short shift, Adam’s off in four hours—we’ll take you to the river and let you run until you pass out.” Clopper licked him on the face, and Finn laughed and scratched him behind the ears some more.
    For a minute Rico wanted to look away from the intimate moment between some other guy and his own dog , but then Derek came over and started petting Clopper, and Rico couldn’t have looked away if robots had started humping in the kitchen.
    Derek had long-fingered hands—elegant, not like a woodworker but like the businessman he’d made himself into—and they slid into the ruff of muscle and smooth-furred skin at Clopper’s neck with fluid ease as Derek gave him a thorough rubdown, complete with over-the-top praise like “How’s my beautiful boy? You gonna stay here and be an angel while your daddies all go and party? Don’t you worry, Uncle Derek’s gonna bring you the best treats! Oh yes he is! You’ll get fat and then we’ll take you running and it will be glorious !”
    Nonsense, all of it, but Rico’s slutty dog, who apparently could be had for a bowl of food and a fondle? Ate that shit up.
    By the time Derek stood up and said, “Okay, all,