Chapter 5
Aspen
Aspen had never been good at sleepovers.
When they were a kid, they were always the first to wake up, and would end up wandering around their friend’s house, snooping through closets and cupboards to find something to entertain themself with.
As they got older, the same thing would happen when they spent the night in a friend’s dorm room or in bed with a guy.
Ethan wasn’t a morning person, and he hadn’t been a big fan of Aspen exploring his place.
Obviously, that had been solved when they moved in together, but the few times he’d scolded Aspen for wandering around his small apartment had left an impression.
Aspen did their best to roll over in Noah’s bed without waking him.
He’d fallen asleep in the middle of Aspen’s orgasm-fueled exploration of his harness.
Aspen had considered going home, but they had a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, and the idea of cuddling all night was too appealing to pass up.
They’d momentarily considered sleeping naked, which was their preferred bedtime attire, but they’d opted to remove their binder and put their oversized shirt back on.
They didn’t bother with their pants, since Noah had seen all their bits and parts.
Now, though, they regretted the decision, because they were hard, wet, and half-naked in Noah’s bed, and he was still out like a light.
There had been countless nights Aspen and Noah had fallen asleep on his couch, and Aspen would wake up in the morning and futz about the kitchen until Noah woke up and made them breakfast. Then, when Aspen’s divorce had started, they’d spent several weeks curled up in the fetal position in Noah’s bed.
Each morning, they’d get up and go into the living room to try and put the pieces of their life back together while Noah slept in.
It had gotten easier once Aspen moved into the building.
They could crash on his couch and drag themself home early the next morning to start their day with their own toothbrush and favorite cereal.
The problem this morning was that they didn’t want to leave.
Noah was like a homing beacon when he slept, always gravitating to whoever was in bed with him.
While they slept, that was amazing, because it meant Aspen never wanted for cuddles.
But for the past hour, as Aspen had tossed and turned, trying to will themself back to sleep, it meant poor Noah had been doing a workout to keep up.
Aspen glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, grateful that at least the first number was now a six.
Five just felt cruel, but six seemed a little better.
Noah grumbled against their neck, as if in disagreement, and his hand absently rubbed against Aspen’s lower belly.
It was so tempting to grab his wrist and guide his hand lower, like they’d done the previous night, but they hadn’t talked about morning sex.
They hadn’t talked about a lot of things yet, but Aspen was happy with the agreement they’d reached.
Aspen had spent the week journaling—at Blair’s advice—and had come to the conclusion that they would take anything Noah wanted to give them.
Marriage wasn’t ever going to be on the table for them again, and something about removing that goal post made all the rest of the relationship titles and milestones seem a bit less important.
Titles had their uses, but they were also a lot like boxes, and Aspen was working pretty damn hard to get out of those recently, at least when it came to gender and sexuality.
Speaking of sexuality, in the last week, Aspen had finally given in and read that damn book Blair was always recommending.
Polysecure was apparently Blair’s intro text for polyamory, and she was going to be unbearably smug when Aspen told her how deeply they connected with a lot of the concepts in the book.
Ethan had scoffed at polyamory, and Aspen had never thought to look any further for romantic love and affection than their marriage.
They’d always known they had a lot of needs, and over the years, they’d begun to suspect that no single person could meet all of them, but they’d figured that was what platonic cuddles, hangouts, and gab sessions were for.
The idea that they could get not just their platonic needs met, but also their romantic and sexual needs met by multiple partners, and everyone would be okay with that?
Mind-blowing. Life-altering. Groundbreaking.
Or, if they asked Blair, very obvious and what she had been suggesting to Aspen for close to a year.
Noah’s hand moved again, brushing the underside of their chest. The night before, Aspen had sort of wished they could take off their binder and remove their chest along with it. They wanted Noah to touch all of them, just not those two heavy mounds of flesh they hefted around with them.
This morning, though, they didn’t feel heavy, even as they drooped sideways across each other. They felt like any other part of them, like their hips, which Noah had grabbed, or their hole, which Noah had made love to with first his fingers and then his strap.
Aspen groaned and rubbed their thighs together like a horny cricket. If only they could make a pretty chirping noise and wake Noah up naturally. Then maybe he’d grab a handful of Aspen’s chest and tell them it was okay that their feelings and desires changed even faster than their favorite color.
Green, they decided out of nowhere. Their next favorite color was definitely going to be green.
A nice forest green, with hints of gray, just like the blanket they were curled up under.
Aspen had needed to do some expert maneuvering the previous night to get Noah under the blanket, but it had been well worth getting to see the sleepy smile on his face as he curled up against Aspen’s chest, warm and sated.
Aspen was very warm right now, but definitely not sated.
They squirmed, and Noah’s arm rubbed against the aching bud on their…chest? One of their chests? Why was it a singular word when Aspen had two of the damn things?
Aspen sighed loudly, and of course, that was what woke Noah up.
“Asp?” he rasped in Aspen’s ear.
Aspen momentarily considered being a good house guest and shushing Noah, telling him to go back to sleep, while Aspen continued to suffer.
That idea disappeared just as quickly as it had come. “Good morning,” they said, at full volume.
“Mornin’,” Noah mumbled, tightening his arms around Aspen, accidentally brushing their chest again.
The moan that escaped their mouth wasn’t quite full volume, but it sounded absurdly loud in the quiet room. Noah froze, his arm still pressed gently against the curve of one of Aspen’s… Okay, this was ridiculous.
“I don’t know what to call them,” Aspen groaned, tilting their shoulder so Noah’s arm dragged along the sensitive flesh. “There are two of them, so ‘chest’ doesn’t really make any sense.”
Noah remained frozen, his breathing growing shallower as he woke up. “I think…when I used to call mine ‘my chest’…it was because I didn’t really want to think about them at all. It was an easy word to say and move on. That seemed to be what you wanted yesterday, but…”
“But not this morning,” Aspen finished for him. “I’m so fucking horny, and your arm brushed one of them, and I realized I really want you to touch them…it…the one, but also maybe both? Ugh.”
Aspen rolled onto their back, and Noah adjusted, giving them space to lie down before he pressed up against their side, his arm still resting below Aspen’s rack.
Yeah, no, that still wasn’t the right word–and it was also singular!
“Have there ever been words you liked to use to describe them?” Noah asked, running his hand up Aspen’s sternum, his pinky and thumb brushing along the curved shape of both.
“I hate boobs,” they said, scrunching up their nose. “And breasts. Jesus, please don’t ever call them that.”
Aspen threw an arm over their face and felt that clawing sensation across the back of their neck. It happened anytime they, or someone else, misgendered them or said something especially dysphoric.
Noah, either unaware or trying to distract them, traced his middle finger over the top of one and then circled around the bottom. It felt nice, but more of a tease than anything else.
“So, you want it to be plural, and not those two words?”
Aspen began tapping their foot, first three, then four times. “Yes.”
Noah hummed in thought before dipping his hand under the collar of Aspen’s shirt. It was so big, he was easily able to shift it over until one of Aspen’s…chesticles popped out.
Fucking hell, that was the worst one yet.
Aspen groaned, but it turned into a soft moan as Noah began tracing his finger up to the top of one of the mounds before going back down. Aspen’s arm slid off their face, and they craned their neck to watch as Noah reverently stroked their skin.
When they glanced at him, they caught him staring at their face, not their chest. “You have gorgeous tits,” he said, and the word settled under Aspen’s sternum, right where that butterfly was happily flapping away.
It seemed to use its wings to dust off the word, making it shiny and new and perfect.
“Th-thank you,” they whispered, all their earlier volume gone.
Noah’s smile was slow and sultry as he bent forward and pressed a kiss into the side of their left tit. “Do you like your nipples being played with?”
Aspen whimpered. That was a bit of a complex question.
Sometimes they absolutely loved it and would practically beg for it in the moment.
Other times, even having their chest brushed made them rage-y.
They’d once bitten Ethan’s tongue when he grabbed their chest during a kiss.
It was so hard to explain, and he’d been confused and angry–which, honestly, Aspen had been as well.
They didn’t know why sometimes their chest was a no-fly zone—it just was.