Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“We will.” He promised.
“And no sneaking off to fuck somewhere. I will hunt you down and expose you bastards.” Seamus warned, and pointed at both of them. “If I don’t get to sneak off and have sex, neither do you.”
Tripp and Jayme exchanged a glance, they had totally planned on sneaking away; guess that was out of the question now.
“Now, I’m gonna go chat with some of my friends. I expect you both to have a good time.”
Seamus blew them a kiss as he walked off, making Tripp smirk; and Jayme shake his head.
~~~
Jayme
Jayme felt good. He was drunk, and totally enjoying himself as he danced with Tripp. Tripp seemed to be having a ton of fun too. Jana joined them a few times, making herself a Jayme and Tripp sandwich. Both he and Tripp had lost their suit jackets and ties and had rolled their sleeves up to their elbows.
He excused himself to go piss for the millionth time. On his way back, he made a pit stop at the bar. While he waited for his beer, he overheard his Uncle Hugh; who was standing a couple feet away, talking with another one of his uncles.
“Can you believe this shit? Mary and Callen have to be beside themselves. They have not one, but two faggot sons. They act like they don’t care, but I’m sure they do. Those boys are a disgrace to the family...”
He pushed away from the bar, anger making his whole body feel hot; or that could just be the alcohol. Who the fuck did this guy think he was spewing his hate at Seamus’ wedding? He was on his uncle a second later, gripping him up by the front of his shirt.
“Who the fuck are you calling a faggot?” he barked, drawing the attention of people standing nearby.
Hugh’s eyes widened and his mouth moved, but nothing came out. The next thing Jayme knew, Tripp was in front of him; putting himself between Jayme and his uncle, forcing him to let go of his shirt. He fought against Tripp, wanting to get his hands back on his uncle.
“I might be gay, but I can still kick your fucking ass,” he yelled over Tripp's shoulder.
Tripp walked him backwards, until they were practically out of the room. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
“I don’t wanna take a walk, I wanna beat the shit out of him,” he argued, but let Tripp turn him around; and walk him out the front door.
“I know, Love. But you don’t want to be one of those trashy people who beats up their uncle at their brother’s wedding, do you?”
He sighed. “I guess not.”
They found a bench in the courtyard and sat down. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his chin to his palms. Tripp rubbed circles around his back.
“He said that we were a disgrace to the family. Said my parents must be beside themselves.”
“Mmm hmm.”
He turned his head and looked at Tripp. “You act like it doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t.”
“What the fuck?”
“Why does it matter what he says? You know that’s not true. You know your parents love you for who you are, and don’t care who you love; as long as you’re happy. Fuck him, and his bigotry. He doesn’t matter.”
Jayme searched Tripp’s gaze, knowing that he was right. Tripp continued to rub circles around his back, and he sighed.
“It still hurts though,” he said quietly.
“Yeah. This may be the first time you’ve had someone call you a faggot but won’t be the last. You gotta learn to let it roll off of your shoulders. It’s just a word.”
“Have you been called faggot a lot?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
Tripp laughed bitterly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been out since I was sixteen, faggot was an everyday occurrence for me when I was in high school.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Tripp slid his arm around his shoulders, and tugged him close. He laid his head on Tripp's shoulder.
“It’s worse when it comes from your own family,” Tripp murmured.
“Yeah.”
“He’s not getting an invite to our wedding.”
He straightened up. “Fuck no.”
“Is everything all right out here?” Seamus asked as he walked up on their left.
“Yeah, everything is fine, Jayme needed a breather,” Tripp said.
“I heard something about Jayme gripping up Uncle Hugh?” Seamus asked, and crossed his arms over his chest; eyebrow cocked in challenge.
“Yeah, I did--“
“What the fuck, Jayme?” Seamus squawked, throwing his arms up.
“If you’ll let me finish,” he gritted out.
Seamus huffed, and motioned for him to continue.
“He called us faggot’s, and said we were a disgrace to the family.”
“At my wedding?” he hissed. Seamus’ fists balled at his sides, and he looked downright furious. “How dare he!”
Seamus turned on his heel and stormed back into the building. Jayme and Tripp looked at each other, then scrambled off the bench; and ran back inside to follow Seamus. It was one thing for Jayme to get in his uncle’s face, he didn’t need the groom doing it.