There was this guy.
It was never a guy. Once in three months, maybe, Will’s eye would catch on a man and he’d look twice. Despite the fact that he’d now had a long-running non-exclusive relationship with two men for almost five years (granted, only when he was in Oakland, which wasn’t that often), he still mostly looked at girls.
But this guy? Was wearing a blouse. At least, Will was pretty sure it was a blouse. And a guy.
“I know, right?” Beccs sucked down half her bottle of water. “If stupid-head doesn’t show up soon, I’m going home with someone else. Maybe that guy you’re totally checking out right now.”
“You’re not gonna ditch Ads,” Will said. “So? What do you think? What’s his story?”
Beccs leaned back, unobtrusively staring down the bar. “Yeah, I don’t know. First, who’s he looking for? He was watching people dance, but I couldn’t decide if he was scoping men or women.”
“And then there’s the whole—” Beccs paused. “The outfit is tripping me up. If he was wearing, I don’t know, jeans and a T-shirt, then I’d take him for a kind of sweet guy looking for a dominant—someone. But the outfit, I don’t know. He could be anything.”
“Huh.” Yeah. Now that Beccs said that, Will could see it. Not that the guy oozed some kind of ethereal submissiveness or something (which Will was pretty sure didn’t exist), but that there was something familiar about how he looked around, the way he turned when someone got too close, wary, but also hopeful.
It reminded Will of himself.
“Finally,” Beccs mumbled.
“Hey, Beccs! Heya, little brother!” Adam kissed Beccs and tousled Will’s hair. “What’re you two doing? Both of you look like fucking trouble.”
“What do you think the story is on that guy?” Beccs said, with a chin-raise vaguely in the direction of the dude. But Ads pretty much knew who Beccs looked at in a bar (and probably who Will looked at, too, though he wasn’t going to spend any time thinking about that), so he knew who she meant right away.
“Gay. Totally gay. Sorry, Beccs.”
“Oh, I know who I’m dragging home tonight. I was scoping him for Will.”
Adam slammed his shoulder. “Go for it, Willie!”
“Don’t call me ‘Willie.’ Plus, I’m not getting 100% gay from him, and my gaydar has to be at least as good as yours, Ads.”
“Yeah, no, it’s not. I’m telling you.” As the three of them (way too openly) watched, the guy’s eyes followed the busboy’s ass as he walked by.
Dammit. “Fuck me. I hate you, Ads.”
“Hey, I’m a fuckin’ genius. Beccs, what, you started dancing without me?”
“You remember Miranda and Sue?”
“The lesbians from your work?”
Beccs rolled her eyes. “We were dancing.”
“Huh. So, Lady Gaga?”
“If you want to have sex with me tonight, Adam, you will shut your mouth about Lady Gaga.”
But Ads grinned and Beccs tried not to, and then they started to walk away, until Beccs came back.
“Go talk to him.”
“Nah,” Will said, trying to forget the intriguing guy at the other end of the bar.
“Seriously, Will. Go talk to him.”
“But if you think he’s looking for—”
“Hey, what do I know? And anyway, he looks lonely.” She shrugged. “I gotta go corral Adam.” Then she kissed his cheek and took off.
Right. He loved Beccs. Maybe like a sister, kinda. And god, he missed kissing. Not that sweet, supportive, sisterly kisses were really what he wanted right now.
He pulled out his phone and opened a text to Hugh. Then, after a second, he added Truman, too.
Miss you jerks. Think I’ll come up soon so you guys can work me over.
He contemplated how to sign off after that, and ended with: Blow each other for me, okay? Don’t be afraid to send video proof. Love.
A minute later, his phone buzzed.
From Truman: Your wish is my command, William. Except for the video. XO.
From Hugh: Everything all right? You are welcome to visit anytime. As you know.
Right. Right, yes. Will eyed the guy again, thinking about the boyfriends. He had no idea how to pick up a dude. He sure as hell hadn’t picked up Hugh (unless offering yard work in exchange for floggings is some kind of elaborate sequel to that pick-up book everyone read like ten years ago). And he’d never asked who made the first move between them. Though it was probably Truman.
Huh. Except, if Beccs was right about the guy, he should probably come on more like Hugh. Could he do that? Could he kind of pretend to be Hugh for a few minutes?
He grabbed his beer and walked over to the guy at the other end, who seemed a little surprised when he sat down, but smiled.
“Hey. I’m Will.”
“Uh, I’m Davey.” The guy held out his hand, and Will shook.
Definitely a woman’s shirt. And also? Silver rings. Not that silver rings were girly, necessarily. Not on this guy’s hands.
“Good to meet you.” Do Hugh, do Hugh. “Can I get you a beer, or whatever you’re drinking?”
The guy, Davey, blushed a little. “Um. Yeah. I mean, yes, thank you.”
So Will waved at Anna, who was tending bar, and ordered two more beers.
“Do you, uh, come here a lot?” Davey asked. “Is that a really stupid thing to say? I don’t usually go out. I’m basically working off a television script right now.”
Will grinned. “Okay, well, then I feel less stupid for trying to do this the way a friend of mine would do it, if he was picking you up. Though I’m not doing as well as you are. Yeah, I come here some. I work at the radio station, and this is kind of on the way home. Also, my brother and his girlfriend meet here a lot.” And my girlfriend broke up with me nine months ago, which is apparently too long to be sad, so they make me go out with them.
Right. Not necessary to share any of that. Channel Hugh. Hugh’s kind of a big pain in the ass when it comes to sharing even after five years of friendship. No way he’d say any of that to a guy he just met.
“So,” Will said, raising his glass. “Cheers, Davey. Nice to meet you. Ah, again.”
“Yeah, you too. Is this the part where you say, ‘Wanna come back to my place, hot stuff?’” Then he looked away. “Shit. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Please forget I said that out loud.”
“Nah. ’S cute.” And Davey? Really was. Cute. Which meant Will was actually hitting on a guy. And that was pretty weird.
Shouldn’t it feel more weird?
“I could, actually—”
“Will! Willie Will Will!”
Fucking Adam. Who was nowhere near drunk enough to be acting like this.
“Don’t. Dance. With lesbians. Fuck, I’m exhausted.” Adam draped himself over Will’s shoulders and snagged his beer. “Hey. I’m Adam.”
Davey, who’d just started looking more comfortable, closed up again. Mayday, mayday.
“Ads, get off. Davey, this is my idiot twin, Adam. Ads, this is Davey.”
“Hey, Davey! I’m Adam again!” Ads offered an over-the-top handshake.
“Oh. Hi. Uh, good to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too.” Ads slugged Will in the arm. “So, Beccs and I are gonna take off.”
“You just got here. And it’s like ten o’clock.”
“I know. Time to cuddle and watch Colbert, little brother.”
“What’re you guys, ninety?”
Ads grinned, took another sip of Will’s beer, and waved to Davey. “Hey, so, maybe I’ll see you in the morning, wink, wink!” He laughed—loudly—as he walked away.
God. Do I sound like that when I laugh? Focus, Willie.
“Uh, sorry about him. He doesn’t mean anything by it.” Will waved at Beccs, and tried to communicate kill him for me with his eyes.
“So you’re gay? I mean, obviously you don’t have to answer that—”
Whoa. Will sucked down a gulp of beer. “No? Maybe bisexual? Honestly, I know I’m supposed to, like, worry about this, about what I am, but in reality I just…don’t. Er. Sorry.”
“Uh, no. I mean, I think that’s cool.”
Will waited for Davey to make some kind of declaration of identity, since he’d asked, but he didn’t.
“Okay, then. So you wanna come back to my place, hot stuff? But in like fifteen minutes, so the old people get a head start on brushing their teeth.”
“Yeah,” Davey said. “I mean, I guess maybe that’s stupid, since we met five minutes ago, but this isn’t really my scene.”
“And I have cable, and also, cheaper beer. I wasn’t suggesting we go back to my apartment to have sex. If that’s what it sounded like.” Stop talking! Hugh would never talk like this!
“Cable’s good,” Davey said, blushing deeper, and didn’t look up from picking at a hole in his jeans. (But a real hole, the kind you get from wearing them, not the kind you get from a store that decided everyone should look like dumbasses.)
He had on nail polish. Blue nail polish.
“Like your nails.”
Which is how Will Derrie, mostly straight, kind of picked up a dude.
* * *
They talked for a long time. And Will forced his stupid brain away from thinking about the night he and Molly met, which was also spent on this couch, though in a different apartment, talking. He and Moll had talked about everything, everywhere, and it had been mostly fighting and laughing.
Davey was different.
For one, he thought a lot about what he was saying. At first Will thought he was trying to say the right thing. But he realized, eventually, that Davey was just thoughtful. And maybe not as used to sparring with people as Will was, so he actually considered what he was going to say before he said it.
“I guess if I had to choose, it’d probably be Memento. I’ve seen it like a thousand times, and I could watch it again right now and still notice something new.”
“I liked that one,” Will said, though he didn’t really remember the actual plot, just that the ride had been fun. “How do you feel about Star Wars?”
“Old or new?”
Davey stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, old trilogy’s cheesy and dramatic, but I still lose myself in it. I still get nervous at the end, so I guess I think it’s definitely the better one. New trilogy is…yeah, I don’t know what they were trying to do there.”
“Exactly, right? And I really wanted to like it, you know? It was supposed to be our big epic adventure. But instead it was kind of…”
“Weak,” Davey said.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ll watch it, but it doesn’t like steal my whole life for six hours.”
The TV was still on, but Will had turned down the volume so it mostly served as white noise. And the last time he’d gone to get them bottles of water, he’d sat down closer to Davey than before. And when Davey went to the bathroom, he sat down even closer to Will when he came back. Which should mean all systems go, right? Even though they just met?
Dudes. Think dudes. The boyfriends totally fucked the first time they went out (which he’d finally gotten Truman to admit, though he’d had to get him alone so Hugh would stop re-directing).
Then again, obsessing over how to say whatever he was saying? That was the kind of thing he did with girls. Maybe he didn’t have to do that right now, with Davey. And anyway, what did he have to lose?
He took a breath. “Hey, so, uh, I’ve had sex with guys and girls. And I’m clean, I’m tested, just FYI. So we could have sex, if you wanted to do that. Though, just to be up front, I’m not huge on commitment right now. I mean, you’re cool doing the casual thing, right?”
“Sure, yeah, okay,” Davey said. “Um. Do you want to do that?”
“Have sex with you? Yeah, totally. Unless you don’t. In which case I will totally back off and you can tell me your feelings about ‘The Big Bang Theory.’”
“Huge crush on Leonard. Um. Yes.”
Oh my god. Will chewed on his cheek for a second. “Right, was that a yes to—”
Then Davey was leaning over, and kissing him, and fuck, fuck, it had really been way too fucking long.
Control. Have some self-control. Be Hugh.
Will touched Davey’s cheek and deepened the kiss, but slowly, just kind of teasing his lips open, not really going further than that.
When they parted, both of them breathing fast, Will asked, “Not Sheldon?”
“I, uh, like guys with glasses.”
Oh damn. What would Hugh make of Davey? No, stop brain. Shut up.
“I don’t have glasses,” Will said.
“Yeah. It’s not a requirement.” Then Davey fucking kissed him again and fuck, yes, this, please.
“I don’t want you to think I’m easy, or anything, but do you want to take this into the bedroom? Just on the off chance the old people have to pee or something and leave their cave?”
Sure. Which was like the most nothing word in the English language. And now? Davey was following him to his bedroom.
Which is how Will Derrie took a dude to bed.
* * *
Chapter Two: Mind: Blown
That’s when Davey got weird.
Will ran through everything he knew about sex, and yeah, weird. They were kissing, which was awesome. Davey wasn’t pushing through to the everything else part, he was just making out, like making out was good in itself, and that was sweet, because Will loved making out.
Then Will put his hand on Davey’s chest, just because more touching is better than less touching, even with your clothes on, and Davey went a little stiff. So Will moved his hand to Davey’s arm—arms are safe, right?—and Davey seemed to get back into it.
The second time it happened, Davey actually turned his upper body away, so Will backed off.
For a second they just sat there, Davey not looking at him, Will wracking his brain to figure out what the fuck to do, what was wrong, and why Davey could be so fucking into something and so not into it simultaneously.
Fuck it. Actually? Will knew exactly how that felt.
“Whatever it is you aren’t saying, you can say it.” Will channeled everything he’d ever wanted someone to say to him (and maybe a little of what Hugh had said, back in the day). “Even if it’s new, you can tell me about it.”
Davey took this incredibly deep breath, like the kind of breath you’d take before something like “I have an inoperable tumor and I’ll be dead by this time tomorrow.” But that’s not what he said.
“I’m genderqueer. And if you want me to leave now, I’ll go. Just, last time I didn’t say anything until later, and the guy totally freaked out, even though it doesn’t make that much of a difference. So if you’re gonna freak out, you can, and I’ll leave.”
“Whoa.” Okay, probably “whoa” wasn’t the best response. “Seriously, hang on. Is that—sorry, I don’t know what that means, but you don’t have to leave, whatever it means.”
“I don’t think I’m very good at explaining it.”
“Huh. Well, I’m kind of the king of sucking at explaining what I want. My friend Hugh? Sometimes he blindfolds me because that kind of makes it easier.”
“Yeah, I guess that probably wouldn’t work for everyone. For me, it’s like—I guess I don’t have to see someone’s face, so it’s easier to talk. Whatever this is, it’s fine, Davey. Seriously. But I definitely need more information.”
Davey pulled his legs in and hunched over them, and his super-straight hair fell forward so that Will couldn’t see anything but his lower lip and his chin. “Okay. Um. See, this is gonna make you think I’m crazy. I don’t always feel like a man. But I don’t always feel like a woman, either.”
Will considered it. “All right. I’m with you so far. I think. That’s what the shirt’s about?”
“Uh, well, I didn’t know it was that obvious.”
“Probably not. I mean—I don’t know what I mean. But I’ve never even heard the word genderqueer before, so that part was definitely not obvious. Uh, is that like transgendered? I’ve heard that one.”
“Not exactly. Or I guess it’s as much like trans as it is like cis.”
Davey gestured in the air between them. “You’re probably cisgendered. You feel like a boy and look like a boy naked?”
“So that makes you cisgendered. C-I-S.”
“Oh. Okay. See, I’m learning shit. But tell me what it means to you, cause I don’t want to fuck this up, but also, I don’t really know where all the things I could fuck up are right now.” Will lay down on his side and resisted the urge to push hair out of Davey’s face, because it’d be way over-familiar and also, they were still doing school. “So? I’m cisgendered. And somebody else is transgendered.”
“Which means they mostly feel like the opposite of how they present. I mean, how their body looks. Their genital arrangement.” He kind of rolled his eyes.
“And they get some kind of surgery?”
“Not always. If you’re a transsexual, then you’ve transitioned from one side to the other. Like you might not change anything about your body, or you might do hormones only, or top surgery if you have breasts and don’t want them.”
Will filed away have breasts and don’t want them under Shit To Be Considered Later and said, “Okay, but, um, what about you, Davey? Like, you want to have breasts?”
“Not very often.” Davey glanced up. “Shit. You sure you aren’t freaking out?”
“Hey, I’m good. If you want another dick and you want it coming out of your knee or something, then I’ll have to take a minute. Right now I’m good.” Hyperbole, fuck, should he really be joking around? Probably too soon, right?
Davey cracked a smile. “No additional dicks. One’s enough. And most of the time breasts look pretty inconvenient. But there are a couple of shirts I like that I really can’t wear and look good in without something there. So that’s all.”
“Breasts as accessories,” Will suggested.
“Yeah, actually. I hadn’t thought about it like that. But that’s not—I mean, that makes it sound like this is kind of a joke, when it’s not.”
“No. But I don’t think it does. I don’t have breasts, but Beccs? My housemate? She would totally go for detachable if she could. She used to play hyper-competitive soccer, back in the Bay Area, so now I know way more than I ever needed to know about the merits and shittiness of sports bras.”
“I guess I don’t usually think about them as something women are kind of stuck with. Just how to kind of make it look like I’ve got enough there to not fuck up a shirt, but not so much it looks like I’m trying too hard. That must sound so weird to you.”
Will blinked. “Well, it’s different. But no. I mean—okay, well, since we’re doing this. I have these fake boyfriends. Like, they are each other’s boyfriend and I just kind of show up sometimes to get laid.” He considered it, then added, “And, uh, I’m kinky.”
“So…I don’t understand. Are you not single, then? You kind of, um, act like—”
“Oh, definitely. I mean, and I always use condoms for anal, and not for oral, but they’ve both been tested a million times, and I guarantee they’re not fucking other people. Or, I could use a condom for everything, you know, if that worked better for you. Is that too much information? Anyway, so, I have sex with these friends of mine, but they’re in Oakland, so not very often.”
“So if you, like, still lived there, would you be with them? Like, are you poly?”
“Shit. Um. I don’t know? I keep saying that like an asshole. I guess I haven’t thought about it. When I lived there, Hugh was just Hugh, and we’d only known each other a few months before I came down here.”
“But now he has a boyfriend? And you’re still having sex with him?”
Sex, floggers, and sometimes ropes. Best not to think about the fucking spreader bar.
“Yeah, I guess so. You know, I’ve never thought about how weird this probably sounds until right this second.” Because Moll had rolled with it. Moll was the queen of rolling with stuff. He waited for the sharp stab of missing her to hit, but it was more of a low ache this time, like a headache on its way out.
“Okay, so I’m genderqueer, which usually freaks people out, and you have some kind of poly arrangement with some guys up north, and then, um, we’re both here now.” Davey shrugged. “What do you want to do? We could watch more TV.”
“We could kiss more. Was the kissing okay? I mean, you’re gonna have to tell me how the genderqueer thing plays into sex. If we’re having sex. Even if we aren’t having sex, we were kissing before, so you’ll have to tell me if there’s something else you’d rather do.” Oh my god, stop babbling. “Or we could watch TV.”
“Kissing was good.”
“But you don’t want me to touch you? Which is totally okay. Kissing is good.”
“I—no, just, if someone doesn’t know? When someone doesn’t know, then it’s like they’re touching me, but they don’t see me. Does that make any sense at all?”
“Actually, that’s the greatest description I’ve ever heard. Cognitive dissonance, right? You’re thinking in your head one thing, and the person you’re with is having a totally different experience, but you’re the only one who knows two parallel things are happening.”
Hard to remember having vanilla sex back before he could say, “I really need you to fuck my ass, like, hard tonight.” Another non-intrusive thought of Molly there, but it was okay.
Will smiled. “Okay. Kissing. Check. Touching, probably. We should kiss now and talk more later. But wait—how far do you want to go tonight? No pressure, like, at all.”
And here was another weird thing: this was pretty vanilla, sex-wise. But Will was into it. Would he be into it if Davey was a girl? Or, a genderqueer girl? Because nothing about this was kinky right now, but he still wanted to have sex.
“How do you feel about simultaneous hand jobs?” Davey asked, after a full minute of silence.
“I feel pretty good about simultaneous hand jobs.” Which was true, though it felt like Davey was making a concession because sex was expected. Trust your gut, Willie. His gut said there was still some stuff Davey wasn’t saying, but the kissing was good. Work with that. “Get your ass over here.”
This time, Will pulled Davey’s leg over his, so Davey was leaning over him as they kissed. (And Will kept his hands anchored on Davey’s waist, over his clothes, totally not moving.)
They probably both tasted like beer and Doritos, but Will didn’t care. He nibbled on Davey’s lower lip, before exploring a little more. Yep. Definitely beer-flavored. But Davey kissed gently, softly, without demand, without expectation, and Will found himself intrigued by it. Davey was neither hesitant, nor confident.
Will had gravitated toward confident lovers. Always. Even before he could say the word “kinky” out loud.
Davey broke the kiss, pressing his cheek against Will’s. “This is—really hot.”
“Fuck yeah, it is.” Okay. What would Hugh do? Right. “Can I push your shirt up a little?”
Will’s fingers stole up under Davey’s shirt, resting on the skin of his lower back. “Nice.” He reached up for more kissing, and Davey’s hair fell down over his face again. Which was actually kind of interesting. It was soft, and pale, but it still shielded the light of the room. Like they were in their own space, their own world.
“I’ve never done this before,” Davey whispered.
Whoa. What the hell? Will tried not to freeze up like he was freaking out. “Kissed? I couldn’t tell.”
“No, I—I mean, kissed someone who knew I’m genderqueer. I’ve never said it to someone first.”
“Really?” Will risked touching Davey’s hair, keeping his other hand very still. “So, how’s it going so far?”
“It’s, uh, yeah. It’s weirdly different. Better. I didn’t think it mattered, but it sort of seems like it does.”
“That makes sense to me.” Because yeah, everything was better when you weren’t hiding. “I’m thinking about taking my shirt off. You pro or con?”
“Pro. Definitely pro.”
“Cool.” They sat back and Will pulled his shirt over his head, absently bemoaning the lack of marks on his back. (Probably for the best; it’s one thing to know the guy who brought you home likes being whipped, but it’s probably a little bit much to see his marks on the first night.)
“Do you want me to take my shirt off, too?” Davey asked, but his hands were clenched like he was forcing himself to offer.
“Not if you don’t want to.” Does a woman’s blouse mean Davey was in a woman mood? Was that even how it worked? Not asking now. No derailing sex. Stop. “More kissing, please. And we can stop at kissing. I like kissing.”
“But don’t you want, like, more than that? I mean, just, I can do hand jobs.”
Will looked at him, trying to puzzle him out. “So right now? I want to kiss you more. That was hot. I wouldn’t mind if you spent the night, if you wanted, and we kissed a lot. Or you can take off in a few minutes. Either way. But I, uh, I’m kind of making this up, Davey, so I’m totally down for kissing without anything else.” My dick is gonna be a little annoyed, but the rest of me thinks it’s cool.
“Just for right now,” Davey said. “Thanks.” And then he leaned in, and now he was kissing for real, now he was closing his eyes and bracing one hand on Will’s shoulder.
Holy shit. Okay. Maybe not weird that the guy relaxed a little and that’s when he went all intense.
Will ran one hand up the back of Davey’s head and kissed him hard, not quite daring to pull his hair. (Damn, damn, his hair was fucking soft—could hair be too soft to pull? It felt so fucking good.)
“Oh fuck,” Davey mumbled, and shifted, straddling Will’s legs. “Uh—nipples?”
“Yeah. Just I may come in my pants.” Which felt like the wrong thing to say, but Davey smiled like maybe Will had just set up a goal post and he was ready to score.
“Seriously?” Davey fucking attacked his nipples, chewing on them and pinching them and when Will arched his back and moaned, Davey laughed at him.
“Oh my god, stop, Adam’s gonna bang on the wall—”
Davey sat up, but as he did so, he also kind of sat down, or maybe sat back, so his ass was against Will’s dick.
“Jesus, you prick,” Will mumbled. “Or maybe you’re a bitch, I don’t know—”
“That’s hot,” Davey said, and rose just enough to rub his jeans-covered ass all over Will’s jeans-covered dick.
“Oh fuck—” Will arched again, with Davey looming over him, and yeah, the fucking blouse, the blouse with the hair, yeah, he didn’t look like a girl, but he didn’t look all-guy either. “Fuck yeah, Davey. Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”
Davey’s face kind of froze up. “You don’t have to—”
“Yeah, shut up and get me off.” Will pulled him down—by his hair, but gently—and thrust up, and now the friction of the jeans, the confinement of it, was part of how hot it was. “You want me to come like this, Davey? You want to know how fucking hot you are?”
“My dick thinks differently.” And Will held Davey’s lips to his, sucking on them, nibbling on them, while he rutted up. He reached around to hold Davey’s ass down where he needed it, and both of them moaned while Will thrust again and again and again until he hit it, then held very still and came, yeah, in his fucking pants, with a fucking hot genderqueer dude on top of him.
“Oh Christ, I’m dead now.” Thump, thump, thump. Will giggled. “Oops.” He thumped three times back, but Ads wasn’t mad. Ads was probably fucking relieved as all hell that he’d stopped moping long enough to kiss someone. “Uh, whoa, so, this is the part where I awkwardly offer to do something for you so you don’t think I’m a selfish bastard in bed.”
“No thanks. I mean, that was good for me.” Davey shifted so he was sitting beside Will. “I can’t believe you came in your pants.”
“Shut up. That was totally your fault.” Will fought the tide of brain-numbing post-orgasm bliss. “Seriously. That was awesome. Except now I should really change my pants.” Dragging himself up and actually changing his pants sounded like a lot of fucking work.
“I, uh, think I’m gonna go home.”
Will opened his mouth, then shut it. Do Hugh, do Hugh. “Will you look at me for a sec?”
And Davey did, from under his hair.
“Can I get your phone number? Would it be okay if I called?”
“Yeah,” Davey said, sounding pretty relieved. “Oh, yeah, sorry, I thought—never mind.”
Please stay, you’re no fun, Will. Shut up, ghosts of Christmas past.
Will dug into his pockets and pulled out his phone. “Next time, maybe I can take my pants off. Just saying. You can do whatever, but it’s kind of a hike to the laundromat. What’s your number?”
Davey gave it, and added Will into his phone. All of which was good. Right? Right.
“Anyway, thanks for telling me all that,” Will said, feeling somewhat unresolved as he walked Davey to the front door. “I mean, I get it, a little.”
“You get being genderqueer?” Davey raised an eyebrow. “Far out, Will.”
“No, I meant—I get what it’s like to have shit in your head you aren’t sure how to say. You’d tell me if you didn’t want me to call, right?”
“I would have given you a fake number if I didn’t want you to call. Actually, it’s a real number, it goes to my old job at this shitty movie theater.”
“So you’ve actually given that to people?”
Davey bit down on his lip, then let it go and smiled. “Okay, twice, and both times the guys were such jerks that it was totally worth it.”
“Oh man. If I try to call you and I get a movie theater—”
“You won’t. This was—I gotta think about it. But being with you just now? Was maybe the most intense sex I’ve ever had.”
And you didn’t even come. But yeah, Will understood intense sex without orgasms pretty well, too.
“Okay. Got it. Then I will try not to be a creepy stalker, even though I’d totally like to see you again. And have more, uh, cisgenderqueer sex. Is that a thing? And if it isn’t, we should invent it.”
Davey grinned, and oh damn, Davey grinning opened up a warm spot in Will’s gut that he’d kind of forgotten existed. “Consider it invented. See you around.” Then he leaned in, hair still all over the place, and kissed Will.
Will shut the door and just stood there for a few minutes. Because shit. And whoa. And Google, because who the fuck knew this existed? I don’t always feel like a man. But I don’t always feel like a woman, either. He had work in the morning, but at some point tomorrow, he had a serious Google date.
And then, maybe, he’d call Hugh and Truman. They might know what this genderqueer thing was about, and if nothing else, he wanted to run the whole night by them to see if he’d fucked it up.
Sticky, gooey jizz-pants. So not awesome. Will peeled himself out of his clothes, tossed them directly into his laundry bag, and took a shower. Davey. Genderqueer. Sex. These were good thoughts to fall asleep thinking.
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