Four college bros walk into a bar...

Nathan was mixing a gin and tonic and Cosmo for the couple at the bar when the group came in. Damp chill winter air invaded the small dive, whirling in on the coattails of their chatter. They were having a lively argument, red cheeked but laughing. "Man, you would really go celebrate, like some old priest or something? For the rest of your life!? Nah man, no way!"

"I'm not going to take some other man's wife regardless of the situation. That's just shitty, trust me." They were all wearing hoodies in University colors and printed with sports clubs. The sat at the scratched oak bar a few seats from the couple he was delivering drinks to. "I'm with Chad, the rest of your life with, no women, no sex! Fuck that man!"

There is a study group tucked in a booth, papers and books strewn over the table. One of the girls chews the end of her pen between scribbles, he had noted its deterioration with each beer delivery and wondered how many pens she went through in a semester. God, that thing was battered, if she passed this test the damn thing deserved a comfortable retirement to the back of a desk drawer and a purple heart for good measure. The pen sees a moment of relief as she pointedly and pointlessly glared at the men.

"What can I get you guys?" Nate wiped the bar and distributed paper coasters that had once been bright green advertisements. Now they were stained with drink rings, and curled from the sweat off of a hundred beer glasses.

"Pitcher of PBR." He must have been the regular spokesperson for the group, he did not hesitate or look to his companions for confirmation. He barely looks at Nate when he places the order and continues their conversation. "Hell if I ended up in that group I wouldn't stay there, I'd knock a son-of-a-bitch out cold and he can be one of the five left overs."

"Kitchen closes in 15, you guys want to order any food?"

"Na man, just the beer." The same man answers for all of them again. "What about you Jimmy boy? Would you simply accept never getting laid again, or would you fight?" They seem unaware of the disturbance they caused in the quiet alchemy of the bar before they entered.

"Again? Jim aint been laid yet, he wouldn't even know what he was missing?!" This elicits a laugh from all of them, even Jim.

"Man, I've had sex plenty, I think you were talking about yourself!"

"Getting hand jobs from your RA don't count, I'm talking about a real fuck. So, what'll it be Jimmy, door number one, infinite fucks, or door number two no fucks for the rest of your life?"

He poured the pitcher, careful with the foam. Gods these kids are dumb, and young...still in the dorms anyway. Jason was at the door checking IDs, but he thought about asking to see theirs again. He should have taken the job downtown, college kids were a pain in the ass, and didn't tip worth shit. The commute would suck, but...

Jimmy has his answer. "No fucks would suck, but I think I go with celibacy. Breaking up someone else's relationship would be shitty, and what if the girl didn't like me?"

"See!" One shouts in triumph, "I knew you'd never had sex, otherwise you would chooses that!" They laugh again, Jim laughs less than before.

Nathan sets the pitcher down at the bar. Spokesman pours for all of them ineptly, four frosted glasses that are half head, they cheers and drink and don't seem to care.

"You guys want to keep it open or closed?"

"Open." Spokesman tosses a credit card on the across the bar. Nate is turning away when he speaks again. "Hey! We need a tie breaker, help us out." He doesn't ask, just expects Nate to comply. "Okay its the end of the world or some shit like that. There are 100 women and 105 men left. You are one of the five men that didn't get a woman. What do you do?"

Nate lifts on eyebrow, and is about to decide to just walk away. The study group looks like they could use a fresh round. Jim speaks up, looking a bit awkward. "We heard that for every 100 women born there are 105 men...so... what about the 5 guys?" he kind of trails off at the end.

"So. Option A: sex. Or option B: no sex?" Spokesman has emptied his first glass in one long pull, and is already refilling.

Okay, fine, he'll play. Nate rolls his eyes dramatically, he affects a slight lisp, puts his hand on a cocked hip. "I'm going with option G."

The boys frown, "um...?"

"Well" he flicks his had as if it should be obvious, "option G! Out of 105 dudes at least one of them is bound to be gay too. I'd find him, and the rest of ya'll can "knock a son-of-a-bitch out cold" to see who gets the lady he was paired with." They are flustered, Jimmy is reddening with embarrassment. Spokesman frowns deeply. "If she would take any of you that is."

They finish their pitcher and leave. Spokesman does not leave a tip on the credit card receipt, but Jimmy hangs back, just enough to toss a fiver on the bar without the others noticing. He doesn't look Nathan in the eyes though.

Later he kicks out the study group, locks up, and walks the 20 minutes to his apartment. He smokes a fat joint in the little courtyard of the complex before letting himself quietly into the apartment. Aaron has to get up early for his 9 to 5 that pay most of their bills, and it is passed 3 in the morning. He strips to his boxers and slides under the covers. Aaron half stirs and presses the curve of his spine into Nate, who drapes an arm over him and kisses the nape of his neck, gently. He thinks about the four college boys, again. Maybe it could become a joke. "Four guys walk into a bar. They ask the only gay guy there if he would steal another mans wife..." but that's not funny at all. Aaron will know how to make it funny, he finds the humor where Nate never can. The joint is settling in, and the warmth of Aaron's body pressed against his own is pulling him into jumbled dreams of the apocalypses and sex.