“For fuck’s sake, Fletcher. Are you going to get weird about this? Do you want to take turns with her while the other one waits in the hall, or are you going to man up? You don’t have anything I haven’t seen a thousand times.”

To make a point, I start untying the red neck scarf while daring him to look away. He doesn’t, just crosses his arms over his chest and dares me to keep going. I yank the knot aggressively. Because that’s a real show of my male prowess, yeah?

We’ve showered next to each other. Why is this weird?

I pull the sweater over my head and throw it on the floor and start unbuttoning the shirt beneath it slowly and with purpose. We don’t say the words, but our eyes have a conversation.

Me: Look away first.

Him: You look away first, asswipe.

Me: Fine, look your fill of my hot body, dickbrain.

Him: You want me to put on some music for you? Get you a pole? You think you’re Magic Mike now?

I pull my pants off and now the two of us are standing here in our underwear, staring into each other’s eyes. My heart is racing a little too fast.

“Fletch, you’re my best friend, and we’re embarking on an epic adventure together. And there’s going to be a lot of nudity. There’s bound to be some friendly fire, too. Are you going to be okay with this? I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

I kick the clothes on the floor into a pile next to the hamper. “Truth? I don’t want to be okay with this. I want to think this is wrong. I don’t know why I’m okay. More than okay. I really like her a lot, but I’m just as into watching you with her as me. I can’t explain it. The idea of her with anyone else makes me feel homicidal, but this, the three of us doesn’t. So, yeah, I’m sure there are going to be a few lines crossed, and I’m not weirded out about it.”

He blinks at me. That was a lot of words to basically say “fine.”

“Cool. Me either. The most important thing about tonight is her, agreed?”

I nod. “Agreed. And thanks for,” I gesture to the honeymoon suite that used to be my bedroom, “all this. She’ll like it.” And she’s the one I should be worrying about. Not myself.

“Good. Now pick your dirty clothes up before she gets out of the bath. You’re ruining my carefully crafted aesthetic.”

“Fucker,” I mumble as I scoop up the clothes and put them in my hamper. “I think you should go in first.”

“Go in?”

I make a face. He knows what I mean.