Chapter 7 #2
He desperately wanted to let Emory know he was serious about figuring out their relationship. His octopus shifted anxiously back and forth, and Cameron did the only thing he could think to do.
“I want you to get to know me. All of me, and if that means showing you the more vulnerable parts of myself, the parts I don’t really share with anyone else, then I want to do that.”
With a bit of fumbling, he undid his belt and dropped his pants.
After nearly an hour of debate with his octopus in front of the mirror in his bedroom, he had chosen one of his favorite pairs of lacy panties, which perfectly matched his navy blue sweater.
His octopus had been very happy with the decision, and Emory had actually complimented the color earlier. He hoped Emory would like it now, too.
“Cameron,” Emory breathed, his eyes straying down and then snapping back up. “You’re…absolutely breathtaking, honey, but—”
“I like to wear lacy underwear,” Cameron interrupted, starting with the obvious first.
They stared at each other in silence, the way only two drunk people could. “I can see that,” Emory said slowly, allowing his gaze to drift down and then slowly back up. “They’re very beautiful, but—”
“And I like to wear pretty things, and to…to feel pretty, which I know lots of guys do, but for me specifically, it’s because I’m a demiboy. I have been for a long time, I just don’t really talk about it a lot because…”
Cameron’s voice left him for a minute, and his octopus slapped his tentacles down on the ground.
It was now or never. Well, realistically, he was pretty sure Emory would hear him out any day, any time, but he had come this far.
Cameron’s octopus slapped the ground again, and Cameron straightened his shoulders.
“Because I had a–a shitty boyfriend in college who made me feel like I couldn’t be out, so I hid this part of myself away for a long time, but…I don’t want to hide it. From anyone, but especially not from you.”
Emory extended a hand, and Cameron gently placed his sweaty palm in his. “I’m not entirely familiar with the demiboy identity,” Emory said. “Does that mean you want me to use different pronouns for you?”
Cameron quickly shook his head. He didn’t think he had it in him right now to do a deep dive, but he also didn’t want Emory to worry.
“No, he/him is completely fine. I am a boy–at least, somewhat of a boy. I think I lean a little more nonbinary, and feel most myself when I get to wear pretty things, and express the more feminine parts of myself, but still be identified as a boy. Just…a demiboy.”
Cameron realized with a bit of discomfort that his pants were still around his ankles.
He wanted to kick them all the way off, but Emory looked like he was waiting for him to say more.
“I, uh…am still sort of figuring out what my style is, and what makes me feel good, but…maybe we can talk about it more sometime soon?”
Emory squeezed his hand once. “I would love to hear about it.”
Silence settled between them, and Cameron’s octopus twitched anxiously until Emory squeezed his hand again. “As far as everything else you said, I have to admit, I have put the pieces together that your ex was bad news.”
Cameron flexed his fingers in Emory’s grip. The urge to cross his arms protectively over his chest was strong, but the need to be grounded was a little stronger.
“He was very bad news. To be blunt, he was abusive. It took me years to admit to myself that that’s what happened.
I had abusive bio parents, and then somehow allowed myself to end up in an abusive relationship.
It took me a really long time to get past what happened with my parents, and it took even longer to get past what happened with him.
It messed me up for a while, and I think it really caused me to shove down some of these softer, more vulnerable parts of myself,” Cameron said as he gestured from his sweater down his bare legs.
Emory followed his gesture down to his lace-covered thighs and then snapped back up again. His octopus wiggled in a way that Cameron had always thought meant he was laughing. Poor Emory. He was trying so hard to be chivalrous. Not just trying, but succeeding, because he truly was a good guy.
Something like fondness, or maybe even a little more than that, ballooned in Cameron’s chest. It caused his words to come out wobbly, but at least they still came out.
“It also caused me to stop dating for a long time, and I wasn’t actively dating when you and I met, but here we are, and we’re dating. ”
Emory grimaced. “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through with your parents and then with your piece of shit ex. I know meeting me, being fated to me, was not part of your plan. I’m sorry if…if this is yet another hard thing you have to do.”
“No, no, you don’t get it,” Cameron said, shaking his head aggressively.
The room spun a bit as he straightened his head back out, and he waited for the walls to stop moving before speaking again.
“I thank the gods I was rescued from my parents before any of that came out. I have a few pretty distinct memories of the way my biological dad would talk about effeminate people and…it wouldn’t have gone well, trust me.
And my ex? He made me feel horrible about wearing lacy things and liking soft, feminine fabrics and colors.
I never told him I was a demiboy because he would have hated that, too. ”
Perhaps because he’d never had to explain this to anyone, the dawning of understanding that Cameron had been hoping to see on Emory’s face was nowhere to be found.
He was still staring intently, all of his focus clearly on Cameron, but his brow was furrowed in confusion. Cameron tried a different approach.
“We’re drunk,” Cameron said, and Emory nodded firmly, like this, at least, he understood. “We’re drunk, and…and I’m not afraid. To show you this. To share this with you. Because I know you’re not an asshole.”
Emory’s lips quirked up, and he nodded again, but he still looked confused.
Cameron tried to take a step forward but got caught up in his pants.
He kicked and shimmied until he was free of them and able to step in between Emory’s spread legs.
Emory’s eyes were wide as he watched this all unfold, but he kept them trained on Cameron’s face.
“See? You’ve barely even looked at me, even though to be honest, I’m pretty sure I look hot as hell in these.”
Emory barked out a laugh, and his other hand came to rest on Cameron’s waist.
Cameron liked that. It had begun to feel so normal while they’d been on Christopher and Ronan’s couch, and he found that he had missed the heavy weight and steady warmth.
“You invited me over so we could talk, offered me an entire room and a bathroom to myself, and when I drop my pants for you, wearing what I like to think of as some of my nicer lingerie, your main concern is still that I’m safe and comfortable.
” Emory smiled hesitantly up at him. Cameron liked being taller than him right now.
It gave him the confidence to continue. “And when I told you I’m a demiboy, you didn’t even blink. ”
“It doesn’t bother me, or phase me, or anything like that,” Emory said.
“I would very much like to learn more about what that means to you, what you want me to be aware of, and if there’s anything I should be doing differently, with my words or actions, but to me, it’s just another part of you I want to try and get to know. ”
Tears stung Cameron’s eyes. “I really appreciate that. Not only have you been trying, but you want to keep trying to get to know me. I promise, Emory, I’ve been trying, too.
To get to know you, to get to know your friends, and to let you get to know me.
It’s hard for me sometimes. When you asked about octopuses, I…
well, I freaked out because I didn’t want to bring down yet another one of our dates.
I feel like I keep doing that, and I mean, here I am, doing it again, but I really didn’t want to do it at a party with your friends.
I needed a moment, and then I truly did get distracted talking to Christopher. ”
“I didn’t mean to bring up your past,” Emory said, flexing his fingers lightly against Cameron’s side.
“I didn’t even think before asking if you knew other octopuses.
I grew up knowing other lion prides, but that is, of course, because I remained with my own pride all throughout growing up.
I didn’t think about your circumstances, and I’m sorry. ”
Cameron shook his head and took another step forward until his knees bumped the mattress between Emory’s legs. He placed his hands on Emory’s shoulders, only allowing himself a brief moment to appreciate their breadth and strength.
“It’s not your job to tiptoe around my past. You should ask whatever you want to ask, and I promise I’ll do my best to answer.”
Emory wrapped his arms around Cameron’s lower back and pulled him into a hug. Cameron loved the way he felt, so big and warm around him. His octopus kept sending him the same feeling over and over again. Safe.
“Okay, honey. I hear you, and while I’m not sure if I’m able to fully understand your gesture given how late it is and how semi-drunk I am, I do appreciate it.
” He pulled back and this time gave Cameron a very purposeful up and down appraisal.
“For the record, you do look ‘hot as hell’ in these. Another time, when we are sober, I am going to show you just how much I like these panties of yours. And…” he gently traced his thumb over Cameron’s hip, where his sweater had ridden up.
There were several pockmarked scars visible, and Emory traced each one.
His brow furrowed for a moment, but then smoothed over as he looked up into Cameron’s eyes.
“And perhaps I can hear a little more about you, your gender, and your past.”