Chapter 11
Noah
Reciprosexual. Asexual. Aromantic. Aroace.
The words played on a loop in Noah’s mind throughout the fundraiser, like a song he couldn’t get out of his head.
He’d always known his sexuality was a bit different than everyone around him.
He could never play the celebrity Kill Marry Screw game because he didn’t feel attracted to strangers he didn’t know.
Even when the game was played with friends, it was difficult.
They were just friends to him until something clued his head—or his body, or maybe both—into the fact they were interested in him.
He’d known a few aroace folks in his life, but he’d never thought to question if he was on the asexual spectrum. Of course, as of late, he’d begun questioning romance and romantic love a lot…
He would have to deal with that later, though. Perhaps his queer friendly therapist could help, after they finished debriefing from his visit home, which…might take a while.
Noah did his best to put the entire thing out of his mind as they sat down to eat at Charlie’s tiny kitchen table.
Aspen was practically in Charlie’s lap, but that was probably at least a little on purpose.
Noah’s table would much more comfortably fit them all, but that would require Charlie to come into the city.
Another knot of worry bobbed in Noah’s throat and he struggled to swallow his next bite of potato.
Logistically, how were they going to do this?
Aspen didn’t have a car, and Charlie preferred not to go into the city.
Noah wouldn’t mind giving them both rides, but then they’d always be beholden to his schedule.
He truly believed Charlie and Aspen could have something real and intense between them, especially if their charged looks and increasingly possessive touches were anything to go by.
When they finished dinner, Charlie asked if they wanted dessert. Aspen stood up from the table, proudly announced they were the dessert, grabbed both Charlie and Noah’s hands, and began pulling them towards the stairs.
“Turn around so you don’t fall, pumpkin,” Charlie said. “We’re right behind you. Second door on the right.”
Aspen skipped up the stairs, and Charlie cast Noah a conspiratorial look. “They’re really something.”
Noah’s protectiveness kicked in, and he felt Charlie’s thread in his chest quiver and shake, but then Charlie’s dimples popped out, and Noah realized he was being genuine.
“They’re…everything.”
Charlie’s smile widened and didn’t waver as they followed Aspen into the bedroom.
Noah paused in the entrance, taking in the room as Aspen spun in a circle, seemingly doing the same thing.
If Noah had been blindfolded and transported to this room with no context, he would have been able to identify it as Charlie’s with no hesitation.
There was a nicely framed photo of Melissa and Harry on the nightstand.
All the furniture was made of heavy wood, and the bed was unmade, piled with several blankets and a mess of pillows.
The walls were covered with strings of Polaroid photos, and as Noah stepped further into the room, he realized they were all poorly taken selfies of Charlie with almost every dog at the shelter.
“I love your room, handsome,” Aspen said.
“Thanks, so do I,” Charlie said, and Noah appreciated that he didn’t apologize for the pile of flannels and jeans in the corner, or fret about making the bed.
That was the sort of thing Noah would do, but Charlie had always seemed comfortable—at least in his own spaces like the shelter and his house.
Noah heard his mother’s scoff in his head. Appearances were everything to her.
“I’d love a tour of your room, and of the rest of the house, but first things first,” Aspen said.
They turned on their toes until they were standing at the foot of the bed, facing both men. With expert-level showmanship, Aspen tore open their flannel, and Noah was pretty sure he heard at least one button ping off the wooden floor.
“Ta da!” they said, letting the flannel hang open off their shoulders. “For once, I get to do this reveal, and I’ve already done the parts and preferences talk!”
Aspen looked so proud of themself. Noah didn’t want to take that away from them, so he circled around behind them and banded his arms around their ribs, just below their bare tits.
“You did a good job, Asp. But Charlie and I still have to talk about our parts and preferences.”
“I know, but how much more fun is it going to be with tits to look at?”
Noah buried his laughter in their neck until he heard Charlie’s choked laugh from across the room. Charlie was staring at Aspen’s chest like a man lost in the desert, finding an oasis.
“You have very nice tits, pumpkin.”
Aspen put their hands on their hips. “You’re welcome to touch them while you talk if you want. Sort of like a fidget toy! Trust me, I’d totally fidget with them, but another one of my preferences is that I don’t like touching them.”
“I do love fidget toys,” Charlie gruffed.
He tipped his head at the heavy oak desk in the corner. Noah was surprised to find it covered in different toys. Then Charlie unbuttoned his shirt two buttons and pulled out the chain he always wore around his neck. Noah was even more surprised to see it was actually a chew necklace.
“Huh,” Noah said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stim before.”
Charlie shrugged one shoulder. “I don't really like using them around other people, except the worry stone I keep in my pocket.”
Charlie pulled out a shiny rock, and Noah reassessed every moment he’d seen Charlie leaning against the side of the shelter, walking one of the dogs, or just standing around with his hand in his pocket.
“You’re welcome to use them in bed if you want. I keep some toys at Noah’s house that I use during sex, too,” Aspen said.
Charlie crossed the room and took Aspen’s hand. “I may take you up on keeping my necklace on while we’re in bed, but as for right now, there’s no way I’d be able to focus if I’m touching you like that.”
Aspen sighed like it was a tragic occurrence, but as they stepped out of Noah’s arms and went to sit on the edge of the bed, they smiled up at him.
“I guess I will accept that. Come sit down. Let’s chat.”
Charlie and Noah took up opposite sides of Aspen, both holding one of their hands.
“I can start if you want?” Noah offered, and Charlie inclined his head. “I call my parts chest, dick, and holes, but I only use my back hole, and not all the time.”
“Maybe like, half of a quarter of the time,” Aspen said. “Oh! And I only use my front hole! Sorry, I forgot to mention that earlier. I use mine most of the time, but I also enjoy topping.”
Charlie was very still. Noah considered reaching for him, but before he could, Aspen turned and leaned against Noah’s chest, so they were both facing Charlie.
“I’ve told Noah this before, but I’m Autistic,” Charlie said, staring down at where his and Aspen’s fingers were threaded together.
“I don’t know a lot about it because the foster parents that got me diagnosed only told me I had much lower needs than some of the other kids in the house, so I should just 'deal with it on my own.’”
Noah actually hadn’t known that, at least not with that level of clarity.
“I’ve never really looked into it, but I do know that I have some preferences and needs that are different from other folks I’ve been with.
One of those is that I’m most comfortable in my house.
I can and will come to one of your places if it's important to you, but I may not be comfortable enough to have sex; I might just snuggle or watch.”
Aspen was tapping Noah’s hand with their thumb, but it was their usual pattern and didn’t seem to be in direct response to what Charlie was saying.
“When we do have sex, I don’t care what you call my parts so long as they’re…
uhm… masculine words?” Charlie scrunched up his face.
“That might not be the right way to say it. What I mean is I’m fine with dick, cock, penis, balls, testicles…
I think that’s all of them, but anything like that is fine. ”
Aspen’s leg began to shake on the bed as they tapped their foot. “That’s no problem, handsome. What about your hole?”
Charlie rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “So, I’m not entirely sure if it’s a sensory thing, a preference thing, or both, but I don’t want to interact with holes. Either other people’s holes or having other people interact with mine.”
“Oh, so you’re a side?” Noah asked, and Charlie nodded stiffly.
Aspen had gone still. “How do mouths work for you? Like, is kissing okay? Do you like getting or giving blow jobs?”
Charlie’s blush flared to life, color spreading beneath his beard. “Kissing is great. I’m usually okay giving blow jobs as long as there’s not a lot of sensory input—like smell, or if things are too wet or uhm…hairy.”
“Okay,” Aspen said, their tone as neutral as Noah had ever heard it. “And do you like getting blowjobs?”
“Yes, but I know not everyone likes giving them, and that’s totally fine with me.
I’m very happy watching, interacting in the ways I can, and then getting myself off.
I just enjoy spending intimate time with partners, and so long as you’ll still have me, I would really like to spend intimate time with both of you. ”
Aspen bent forward out of Noah’s arms until they could rest their joined hands on Charlie’s thigh.
“I would also really like to spend some intimate time with you and Noah. I don’t like to be clean-shaven for gender reasons, and if that’s an issue, we don’t have to worry about blowjobs for me.
I love my tits and dick being played with, and I would very much like to kiss you and then get on my knees for you.
If you’re down for that, that’s more than enough for me. ”