Chapter 19
Landon
“Should we clean up the cum?” As hot as it looks streaked across Ben’s chest, it can’t be comfortable.
“In a bit,” Parker grumbles, moving closer to Ben and stretching an arm across him to rest their hand on my arm. My skin warms under their touch, little sparks dancing under their fingers.
“You know we can come back to cuddling after we’ve cleaned all the cum off, right? Plus, it’s a little weird to be balls out while you two are still dressed.”
Parker and I both burst into laughter. “Yeah?” Parker asks, still giggling. “I thought you liked being balls out.”
Ben groans. “Alright, alright. I hear you.”
“We really can get cleaned up, though. Are you sure we can come back to this?”
My heart contracts at the question. I wonder how long Parker has denied themself intimacy and physical comfort.
I raise off Ben’s shoulder and glance down at the two of them. “Can you tell us more about Lincoln?”
Parker tries to smirk, but it falls flat. “Really? You wanna talk about my ex while we’re tangled up and cum-covered?”
I shake my head quickly. “Well, no. It’s—when you put it like that, it sounds bad. I’m sorry.”
Parker sighs, shaking their head. “It’s okay. We can talk about it, but let’s get cleaned up first.” They narrow their eyes at me, then shift their attention to Ben. “But then I’m going in the middle of the cuddle pile. I’m gonna need it.”
Ben brushes his knuckles along Parker’s jaw. “Anything, Cotton Candy.”
We all get up to go clean ourselves up, and when we’re back in bed, with Parker tucked between us, they let out a soft sigh, then turn to me with a pout. “Play with my hair, please.”
My fingers sink into the thick strands without a second’s hesitation. “Your pink is fading,” I murmur softly.
“Maybe I’ll color it something else this time. Green or orange, so you’ll stop calling me Cotton Candy.”
Ben chuckles. “You’ll always be Cotton Candy to me. No matter what color your hair is.”
Parker groans. “Ugh, you suck. But maybe I’ll change it to purple.”
“Yeah?” I ask, intrigued. “Why purple?”
“Seems to be the color that comes up the most around you two.”
My heart flails wildly in my chest. “I love that, Lovebug.”
Ben hums. “Me too. You’d look perfect with purple. Hell, I think you’d look perfect with any color.” Parker lets out a little huff that makes Ben laugh. “What? I’m serious.”
“I’m not sure you’ve ever been serious a day in your life.” The snarky tone of Parker’s voice makes me smile.
Ben raises his head, looking down at Parker. “I’m very serious about you, Cotton Candy.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “And you.”
My throat goes dry, and I have to swallow hard a couple of times before I can get any words out. “I’m very serious about you two as well.”
We both look at Parker. “Yes, yes. We all like each other very much.” They roll their eyes, but a smile tugs at their lips. “Okay, so what do you want to know?” they ask, expression turning serious.
“Whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”
Parker lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “So my parents are kind of hippies, which I’ve already told you. But growing up, we lived in this like commune-type place.” They chuckle. “Not like a cult, though. Anyway, Lincoln and I met in kindergarten, and we were inseparable right from the start.”
I drag my thumb along Parker’s temple, tracing the small vein that disappears into their hairline
“We were always together. Playing outside, spending the night at each other’s houses. He was like a brother and a best friend, all rolled into one. We did everything together.”
Ben lays his hand on Parker’s stomach, spreading his fingers wide, and after a second, Parker rests their hand over Ben’s.
“We were probably… eleven or so when my feelings for him started to change. Just little shit, you know. Kids that young don’t know what love really is, but it was as close to love as I could imagine at that age.
Any time we’d touch, I’d get these little fuzzy feelings in my stomach, and my cheeks would always get really hot, and it just kind of progressed from there.
My parents were all ‘love is love’ and ‘listen to the universe’ and shit, so it was never even a question for me whether I was allowed to feel that way.
“I just knew I really liked him. By about twelve, he started acting like he felt the same way, and at thirteen we were throwing around the love word and sharing our first kiss.”
Trailing my fingers through Parker’s hair, I nod. “That sounds really sweet.” I never experienced anything like that. At thirteen, I was sure that God would send me to hell for even thinking about kissing someone.
Parker smiles. It’s wistful and sad, but then they nod. “Yeah, it really was. Anyway, we were probably way too young for it, but by fifteen, we were having sex, and I was pretty sure I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him.”
It’s probably rude to be glad that didn’t happen. I can’t even bear to think of what I’d be missing out on. If the look on Ben’s face is anything to go by, he feels the same.
Parker shrugs. “But then, I just felt… wrong inside. Like there was something about my insides that didn’t quite match my outsides, you know?
And that’s when I learned what nonbinary meant.
I mean… that’s the short version of it, anyway.
At first, Lincoln was supportive. Just said he loved me, and nothing would changed. You know, that type of shit.”
With a pained laugh, Parker shakes their head. “God, he was so fucking mean to me. I’ll never understand it. He could have just broken up with me. But instead, it turned into him picking on me about everything.”
Anger rises in my stomach.
“Like I said before, at first, it was just small things, right? Calling me he and then apologizing and correcting himself, but then it turned into refusing to even hold my hand and picking out my clothes so I could be dressed the way he wanted. Not wanting me to wear makeup.”
A small smile blooms on their face. “My mom taught me how to do my makeup. It was really sweet. One of my favorite memories of us, honestly.”
“I’d love to meet your parents,” Ben says, and I find myself nodding. What would it be like to have parents that supportive and loving? “When you’re comfortable with that, of course.”
Parker turns to Ben with a grin. “I’m going to their house for Thanksgiving. You can both come if you’d like.”
“Really?” I ask, hope rising inside me.
“Yeah. They’d love that.” Parker clears their throat, then adds, “I would too.”
“We’ll be there, Cotton Candy, right?” Ben asks, looking up at me.
I’ll have to tell my mom I’m not coming home for dinner, but… I nod. “Definitely.”
Sighing, Parker sinks deeper into our embrace. “Where was I?”
“Not wanting you to wear makeup,” Ben says softly.
“Ah, right. So anyway. Then it got worse.”
“Worse than misgendering you and making you feel bad about the clothes you wore?” I blurt out, double adding Lincoln to my shitlist.
“He used to make fun of my paintings,” Parker whispers, voice pained, almost like that hurts worse than anything Lincoln could have said about their gender. I guess, in some ways, it probably did.
“Your art is your soul,” Ben says softly.
“Exactly,” Parker whispers. “Exactly. It’s such an integral part of who I am. More than any clothes or makeup ever could be. So I stopped. For a solid three months, I stopped.”
“Painting?” I ask.
“Everything. I stopped painting. I stopped dressing how I wanted. Stopped using my preferred pronouns. Basically tried to change myself into the person Lincoln wanted me to be.”
“Oh, fuck Lincoln,” Ben snaps.
“Fuck Lincoln, indeed,” I say, heart hammering at my poor Lovebug hiding themself away to protect their heart from such a worthless piece of shit.
Parker laughs. “Thanks, guys. After that, everything went back to normal. But then one day, I just woke up and thought, God, I’m fucking miserable.
I’m miserable, and he’s so happy, and how is that fair?
Why should I stop doing all the things I love and being the person I am just to make him happy when I was so fucking miserable? ” Parker smirks. “So I dumped his ass.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. “Yeah? That’s my Lovebug.”
“Damn straight,” Ben says, grinning just as much as I am.
Parker giggles, sitting up and turning around to face us. “Get this. He cried. He sobbed. Like on his knees in front of me. To be fair, I was pretty upset too. I didn’t want to break up with him, not really. But I had to. For myself, you know? I knew even then I deserved better than that.”
Serves Lincoln fucking right. “Hell yes you did, Lovebug.”
They sober, their face turning serious. “He’s why I’m so weird about my art. It’s really hard to trust in yourself again after someone beats you down over it. I didn’t want anyone to see, for fear that they’d react how he did. That they’d make fun of it too.”
Ben blows out a breath, holding out a hand to Parker. Slipping their hand into his, they give it a little squeeze. “Your art is magnificent. You are magnificent.”
Parker nods shyly. “Yeah, I get that now. Or at least, I get it more now. It was never about me. Not really. It was about him and his own failings. But…” they sigh. “Still made it really hard to trust. Like… really fucking hard.”
“And then we came along,” I say.
“And then you came along,” Parker says, nodding. “Always so fucking earnest and open and just… perfect, and it caught me off guard. Sometimes I’m still not sure you’re real. Feels like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I reach up, cupping Parker’s face. They lean into my touch, nuzzling against the palm of my hand. “There is no other shoe, Lovebug. Not with us.”
“I’m starting to trust that. Thank you for being patient with me.”
Fuck, I’m pretty sure I’d wait forever for them. For them and for Ben and for the beautiful, life-altering thing we’re building together.
“I want to tell my mom,” I hear myself saying. “About us. Can… Would you two go with me?”
“Absolutely,” Ben says.
Parker nods. “Of course.” They cock their head. “There’s no rush, though. We can do it when you’re ready.”
My stomach gives a hard lurch, fear crawling up my throat. But if Parker can be brave and trust in this—in us—then I can be brave too.