One would think they'd be enjoying finally having beds again, even if the straw ticks were a far cry from the opulence they'd enjoyed in El Dorado. But instead Tulio was sitting slouched over in the inn's tiny dining area, starting the long task of drinking himself into a stupor.
"You know," Chel said, plopping down in the chair next to him, "I think I know how to solve this little 'problem' of yours."
Tulio glared at her over his pint. "I don't have a problem."
"Oh no, Tulio, you can't lie to me about this," Chel said, rolling her eyes and plucking the mug out of his hands to take a swig. Her face screwed up with disgust at the taste. "This is what you drink where you come from?"
"It's better when it's not watered down." Tulio ignored the dirty look the innkeeper threw him, then sighed and pulled his hand across his face. "Okay, what's this solution of yours?"
"Well..." Chel stood, and draped herself across Tulio's shoulders. "You know, it would be okay with me if you let Miguel into our bed."
Half of the gulp of beer Tulio had been taking went spraying across the table, the rest getting gasped into his windpipe so any reply he would have made was swallowed by a fit of coughing.
"I'm not usually into the pretty-boy type," she continued, ignoring his attempts not to drown in his own misswallowed beer, "but I like Miguel, and I wouldn't care if that's what it takes to keep you from being all..." she waved her hand in slow circles as she tried to think of a nice word to use, then let it flop at the wrist as she finished, "...shlumpy."
Tulio sat up straight, sending Chel falling off of him. "I am not--" he started to yell, then noticed the innkeeper still watching them and lowered his voice to a hiss, "I am not 'shlumpy'."
Chel gave him a look like he'd just said the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "Tulio, Tulio, Tulio," she said, shaking her head in time with his name, "I don't know how stupid the girls in Spain are, but anyone with a thought in their head can tell when the man they're in bed with can't get it up. It's a little hard to miss... or very easy, if you get my drift."
He sincerely hoped that that was just her way of saying she wanted sex, and not an insult to his size. "And what makes you think Miguel and I would even be interested in something like... that."
She rolled her eyes again and explained slowly, as if she was speaking to a child, "Tulio, honey, it's not hard to figure out what it means when a man would rather stand in the hall for ten minutes making sad faces at another man about having to sleep in different rooms when his incredibly gorgeous woman is in bed willing and waiting. I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you, and me. I know this will make things better all around." She leaned against the table, and Tulio was positive she was purposely positioning herself in the way that would give him the best possible view of her chest but wasn't about to complain about the attempted manipulation. "So, the way I see it, you have two choices. You can say 'Yes, Chel, I have perverted sexual feelings about my best friend and would like to go with you to surprise him with a thorough ravishing of you both in many fun new positions we can't try out with just two people.' Or you can say, 'No, Chel, I'm just going to keep living my life in denial and frustration for both of us, so you just go back up to bed and I'll keep drinking this armadillo piss I ordered.'"
When put like that the right choice really was obvious, Tulio thought as he stood up. "I don't know if Miguel would like being ravished," he said to Chel as they walked toward the stairs.
"Eh." She shrugged. "Then he can ravish you. Flexibility's good in a relationship."
They both ignored the way the innkeeper edged away from them as they walked by.
