Trey
When we walk into a room, all eyes turn to us. Bunny walks ahead of us, graceful and lithe as a dancer. It’s still a wonder to me that she never trained athletically. This is just how her body is: strong and graceful.
The maître d’ guides us through tables of celebrities and politicians. I have heard that there are rumors swirling around us, but no one has had confirmation. We keep to ourselves, mostly. It’s not out of modesty or some desire to hide, it’s just that we haven’t wanted to do anything but fuck for weeks.
But it seemed like Bunny deserved a night on the town, where the whole world could admire her the way that we do. Sully agreed to sacrifice part of the evening, as long as we promised to try to get back to the hotel early enough that he could still spend time with her. This is not, he told us, an authorized group night. Definitely not. Definitely still his night alone.
She looks outrageously beautiful in a glittering black evening dress, completely backless. Her spine undulates with every step as she saunters through the room, commanding all the attention. I think she loves it. She’s definitely not shy.
“Thank you,” she sighs as she sits in the chair the maître d’ holds out for her. As he slides it in under her, she gracefully places her handbag on the table next to her and gazes at each of us expectantly.
By contrast, we seem like a bunch of oafs. A pack of baboons. A fraternity of tragically smart kids. Definitely, she is the rose among the thorns.
“I can’t believe you got us a reservation at Lovecraft,” she breathes, leaning forward confidentially. “That’s Brad Pitt over there! And the mayor? And I’m pretty sure that’s Lady Gaga in a wig!”
“Probably,” Royce sniffs. “I mean, I’m not sure that’s Lady Gaga, but that’s definitely Brad Pitt. Do you want to meet him?”
“Yes! Wait, no… I don’t. Thank you for offering, though.”
“Why not?” Spencer asks. “Royce plays volleyball with him sometimes when he’s in town. I’m sure it’s no trouble.”
Her eyebrows go up dramatically. “You do? He plays volleyball?”
Royce waves his hand modestly. “Oh, we haven’t done that in a while. We had a team, kind of, when he was shooting his last movie here. He’s got a great serve.”
“I can imagine,” she smiles. “But I think I am happy where I am.”
She smiles at all of us, her cheeks pink. I’m constantly amazed that she can make us each feel loved, even when we’re all together.
And we do compete for her attention. Everyone wants to be the one who has the most time with her. I feel lucky that I got to pillage her asshole first, but Spencer got to fuck her pussy first, and Royce got the first blowjob. So I guess we all have our small, precious moments.
Still, when she looks at me I feel like she is looking right into me. The connection is real and it’s intense. She makes my heart hurt sometimes, she is so beautiful. It literally hurts to look at her for too long, especially when she is looking back.
“We are happy where we are too,” Sully murmurs, covering her tiny hand with his giant paw.
“Excuse me, sir?” Bunny smiles at a passing waiter. “Can you take a picture of us?”
Though it is a kind of touristy request, she asks it in such a charming way that the waiter immediately agrees. She pulls her cell phone out and hands it to him, then twists in her chair so that she’s surrounded by us. And though it is slightly undignified to completely act cheesy, we all gather around her, smiling like it’s senior picture day.
He hands the camera back to her and she wrinkles her nose and grins at it.
“You guys are just so handsome,” she says. “I hope we get a million pictures together.”
“We might already be halfway there,” Spencer remarks, nodding meaningfully over his shoulder. Royce follows his gesture and observes all the people with their cameras out. Looks like even the celebrities want to take pictures of our merry band of family love.
“Oh, let them,” Royce sighs in an uncharacteristically breezy manner. “It’s fine. It would be nice to see ourselves in People magazine, wouldn’t it? Maybe Time?”
“Maybe the National Enquirer?” Bunny adds sarcastically.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Spencer drawls.
“We don’t have anything to be ashamed of,” Sully replies. “We can do whatever we want. We can do whomever we want. And all we want is you. I would be happy if the whole world knew about it, to tell you the truth.”
She stares at him with light dancing in her eyes. “You know what, I almost believe you mean it,” she grins. “But the whole world doesn’t need to know all of our business. Is that what Royce always says?”
Royce shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “But I didn’t mean it like… as though you’re a secret. Not specifically. Just that it’s a habit to try to maintain our privacy.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining, Royce,” she shrugs. “I’m just happy to be here. With you. With all of you.”