Brillo Pads and Soft Scrub
It was just that balcony. It was intoxicating.
The view or the location or something, Vince had no idea, but there was something about that stupid balcony that just made you wanna fuck like a champion on it. Up against that ledge, he didn't know. He wasn't the only one, either - Drama would talk about it too, ranted for an hour straight the first time he'd talked about it, something about the nice aesthetics, or how the balcony made one feel empowered, no matter where you were - something about balconies made one feel like a king.
Vince had no idea, but it had caught on, and before long, he was just getting urges, was all. That balcony, he just... he had to fuck on it. It couldn't be just anybody, either, had to be someone really special, just because it was a balcony - just for the balcony. ...He didn't care how lame it was, he just had urges, okay?
So he did it. He fucked E over that balcony ledge.
Unfortunately, a paparazzi found out about it too. And by the next morning, it was all over the fucking headlines.
Vince and Eric sat on opposite sides of the couch, heads down, while Ari waved around the 'Variety', the words BROKEBACK AQUAMAN? emblazoned across the top, with a grainy shot of Vince and E kissing, and not just your run of the mill, spin the bottle kissing. "At least it's a phrase you came up with?" Eric offered jokingly, and Ari ripped the paper in half and threw it at Eric a little harder than he probably meant. Probably.
"Yeah, except it was fucking funnier when I said it, not the DAILY FUCKING VARIETY."
"If it's any consolation, I support you two all the way," Lloyd replied, solemnly, with a fist of solidarity, and Ari was soon throwing more things, this time a stapler, that missed Lloyd but ricocheted off the wall behind him instead.
"Shut the FUCK UP, Lloyd, and just because you start throwing around your queer handshake of queer enlightenment in queerdom, doesn't mean Vince will fuck you in the broom closet." Ari takes both halves of the paper back from Eric, who's trying to check out the cover, and slaps the pieces down onto the table in front of them. "Anyone care to explain? Huh? Is this fucking college? Experimenting's over, pal, and I don't care how okay it is to be gay. Just cuz it works for NPH? Doesn't mean it's gonna work for you!"
"Ari, look," and Vince is laughing, because obviously this isn't necessarily real, it's just funny to him. Eric's got his face in his hands. "It was just a mistake! The paparazzi must have caught us, I didn't see them."
"Well, Jesus fucking Christ, I would think that much was obvious!" Ari pinches his nose, eyes shut, mouth turned into a grimace, before he finally grates out some more words. "Is it me? Have I not given you boys enough free time? To go out and fuck some prime snatch? Is that why you've forsaken me? Do I not give you enough toys?"
"Look, Ari."
"Because I can give you more toys!"
"Ari."
"Do you need a strap on? Or some monster fucking vibrators? I can get you monster fucking vibrators."
"Ari."
"Or, you know, a goddamn hotel room. A cardboard box, if you'd so want, if it keeps you from fucking on balconies."
"It's not about any of that, Ari, we just--"
"Felt like taking it up the back end instead of giving it? Tired of trying to make the ladies cream in a lifetime where you know you could never make a woman scream like your mom did when she popped you out? Because that takes skill, Eric, not an Irish little fuck-pencil." Eric just laughs like this isn't happening, while Vince leans back and kicks his feet onto the table, nudging up against Eric's knee with his own, like he thinks Ari's not going to notice. Ari notices.
"Don't you flirt in my office. The last thing I want is it being christened by Queer as Folk: Miller-Gold Edition. Seriously, I will let Lloyd fuck on that couch before I let you two."
"You'll let me fuck on your couch?" Lloyd pipes up.
"Lloyd, if you fuck anywhere near my couch, or anything of mine, I will rip off Tom's cock, fucking dice that shit up, and feed it to your mom in a fucking smoothie. Get the fuck out and answer the fucking phone."
He's back to Vince and Eric, hands clapped over his nose again, like he's praying to some kind of God for this not to be happening. Vince looks like a puppy who's just gotten whapped with a newspaper. "I'm hungry. You pulled me out of breakfast for this."
"Chew on the consequences of your actions or something. What do you want me to do, get you a fucking McMuffin?" Ari snipes, and wheels an index finger around in a circle like he has a tendency to, before starting to gnaw on his fist. Anger management was never his strong suit. "Or, if it's chunky enough to, you can always just lick up some of this guy's jizz or something. Full'a protein! Like mother's milk!"
Vince laughs, and makes a face.
"No, I'm serious, or did you not have enough of that last night?"
"You really wanna know? Because I bet I still have some on me, because you made me skip my shower too."
"Are you serious? Are you being fucking serious right now? You want tips on getting dried come off your face?"
Eric throws up his hands? "Could we please stop talking about my fucking come?"
"No, I'm getting you fucking Brillo pads and Soft Scrub for your birthday. Stuff's a bitch to get off, isn't it? Bet yours tastes like whiskey and leprechauns too. Just like Saint Paddy's day's come early. Fuck you, Eric."
"That's not very nice," Vince offers, matter-of-factually.
"This is the picture of nice. You wanna see mean? I've been staving off Shauna's calls all morning. But, I mean, if you want, I can invite her in, let her go at you guys for a while. I bet her vadge has actual teeth, and those fuckers will eat you alive. You can bet on it."
"I am no longer hungry."
"Yeah, get used to the feeling, because Shauna's on her fucking way whether you like it or not."
Vince and Eric exchange A Look, and Eric slumps back onto the couch to follow Vince, and budges his foot up against Vince's own. "We're gonna be here a while."
"You're telling me."