Chapter 4
Chapter four
Misbehaving Vines and Dick Pics
Zef
The air carried an autumn bite as it settled against Zef’s exposed arms, but the sunlight drifted through the canopy of vines enough to stave off the worst of the chill as they led Bryce into their garden.
Cobblestones carved a path through the foliage, lined on either side by several trellises, creating a short tunnel of leafy vines and flowers with thick, crimson stamens.
The thistley vines snagged in their bun as they closed the door behind Bryce, and they winced as they hurriedly tried to untangle themself before the vines burrowed deeper.
They had gotten entirely trapped once, and the only way they had managed to free themself was by allowing Denys to cut their hair. The vines had taken the detached strands as tribute, and Zef had only recently begun to forgive them.
“No, not again,” they lamented as they ducked their head and ripped the troublesome vine free, hissing in pain as the thin, almost fuzzy thorns left hairline slices in their palms. “Will you not behave? We have a guest.”
The vines above shuttered and slithered about for a moment before falling still under Zef’s glare. Turning to Bryce, they said, “Do be wary of the vines. They will steal your hair if you let them.”
Hunching his shoulders, the human tried to make himself smaller, though he could not quite accomplish it.
He was just so very… big. Zef had perhaps an inch on him in height, but in every other way, the human was so much larger.
His shoulders were broad, and his arms and legs were thick.
He had a wide chest and a round, soft-looking belly that stretched the fabric of his flannel shirt.
Even his hands were big, thick-fingered with dark hairs on his knuckles.
He had dark hair on his forearms, too, and his face.
His full beard was well-groomed and shaped his thin mouth handsomely.
He had furry eyebrows that moved expressively, exaggerating his emotions in a way that Zef almost found excessive.
But that was simply the way of some species, wearing their emotions on their collars—or whatever the phrase was.
“Are the vines alive or something?” Bryce said with a slight tremble to his voice.
“All plants are alive,” Zef said.
The human flattened a hand on top of his head as he eyed the ceiling of vines distrustfully. “Well, yeah, but none of them try to steal your hair!”
“Really? Human vines sound more polite. I have tried to teach these ones manners, but they are simply too stubborn.” Zef sighed regretfully. “I have taken to wearing a wide-brimmed hat when I plan to work outside for a long period of time. In case they conspire to ambush me.”
Bryce’s eyebrows did more expressing, and Zef decided that they liked it.
They liked Bryce’s entire face, in fact.
It was a nice face, as faces went. Pleasant and mostly symmetrical, even if his nose was a little too wide and his lips thinner than conventional beauty standards expected.
It was interesting and alien and… handsome.
Yes, the human was handsome, and it pleased Zef greatly.
“Oh, how lovely,” they said, and Bryce cocked his head.
“It’s lovely that your plants conspire against you?”
“What? No, that is deeply disconcerting,” Zef said with a dismissive wave. “I have just realized that you are handsome. Which is fortunate, as I will be seeing you every day now that we live together. How wonderful that I find you pleasing to look at.”
Oh dear, the human was expressing a lot now. His brows had risen high into his forehead, creasing his brow with wrinkles, and his eyes were wide, lips parted in an O shape. Red darkened the skin of his cheeks under his beard and crawled down his neck to meet the chest hair poking out his collar.
Shock, Zef thought. Or perhaps embarrassment or discomfort. Or maybe he was going to be sick. It was hard to tell. Interpreting emotions had never been Zef’s strong suit, and they still did not know Bryce well enough to have memorized his facial tells.
Nerves knotted their stomach unpleasantly. “Forgive me, have I said something offensive?”
“No,” Bryce said, too quickly, which usually meant it was a white lie offered in hopes of salvaging an uncomfortable social interaction.
“I apologize—”
“No, don’t. That’s not—you didn’t say anything wrong. I just wasn’t expecting…” Bryce rubbed the back of his neck and smiled ruefully. “People just don’t talk like that.”
Inhaling sharply, Zef stepped back, as if distance would somehow lessen the weight of the blow. “Ah, yes. I… I know I am… that I am not always—”
Bryce’s features twisted into something akin to pain, though he did not appear physically hurt. “Ah, hell, I’m mucking this all up. That ain’t what I meant, Zef.”
Hand rising, as if to reach for them, he took a step toward them, and on instinct, Zef matched it with a step back of their own to keep him from touching them. The color drained from Bryce’s face at their retreat, and he dropped his hand back to his side instantly.
“Crap, I wasn’t gonna—ah, look out!”
And Bryce lunged at them.
For a moment, fear froze them in place, like a creature caught in the lights of an oncoming vehicle, and they could do nothing but squeeze their eyes shut in preparation for the impact.
But nothing happened. The air pressure changed, and instead of the earthy scents of foliage, they breathed in something fresh and almost minty.
Bryce’s body heat prickled along their skin like insect legs, and they barely resisted the urge to rub away the unpleasant feeling.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, these buggers have thorns?” Bryce grumbled, his breath fanning over Zef’s chin.
Their eyes shot open, and they were nearly nose-to-nostril slit with the human.
His gray eyes were the color of the sky right before the rain, lined by full, dark lashes, but around his pupil was a ring of deep blue.
It was rather beautiful. At least, Zef would have thought so had they not been within a hair’s breadth of being touched by a practical stranger.
“The vines were going for your hair again,” Bryce said in explanation, and the tension in Zef’s muscles released.
“Well, I did forget my hat inside,” they said morosely, and Bryce blinked at them.
Then his mouth spread into a wide smile, and he laughed.
It was a deep, rumbling thing, and for a moment, Zef swore they felt the vibration in their bones.
They smiled tentatively back, and his shoulders lowered, like the tightness there had eased.
Cautiously, Zef tilted their head to investigate Bryce’s claim. The vines had coiled around his wrists and wriggled between his fingers, instead of in Zef’s hair. They smelled metal and salt. Blood. Bryce was bleeding.
“You are hurt,” they stated, and he shrugged.
Before he could respond further, Toni’s voice rang through the garden. “What the fuck are you two doing?”
Peering over Bryce’s arm, Zef spotted their friends crowded around the back door, Toni in front, arms crossed over his chest as he narrowed his eyes on Bryce.
“The vines were trying to steal Zef’s hair,” Bryce said with a huff.
Oliver and Jude glanced up at Bryce’s tangled hands above Zef’s head in horror. Toni’s brows furrowed even more, black eyes flinty. Liel was snickering into Oliver’s shoulder, and Gemae leaned against the doorframe, cheek bulging with a bite of sandwich.
“Looks like you’re trying to steal Zef’s virtue,” he said around his food, and Zef barely held back an eyeroll.
“Do not be ridiculous,” they said as they carefully ducked under Bryce’s arm, ensuring they did not make contact. “The vines are being rude.”
“Oi, out the way, losers,” Tad barked from behind them all, and Gem shrieked, scrambling to Toni’s other side.
“I told you Tad was creeping around!” he hissed in Toni’s ear, and the Elas winced.
The group parted to allow Tad through, and she waddled over to Zef with a spray bottle in hand. She glared at Bryce, and even though he was five times her size, the human shrank away. She grinned gleefully at his retreat.
“Say it, don’t spray it, Gemmy. My gods.” Toni whined, wiping at his cheek.
Gem snorted and ripped another bite from his sandwich. “Psh, figured you’d be up for a little spit play.”
“Jude’s the only one who can spit on me,” Toni slapped back, making Jude high-five him with a proud, “Goddamn right.”
“Guys, come on,” Oliver said, face scrunched up in disgust. “I don’t want to know.”
“I want to know,” Gem said unabashedly.
“I wouldn’t seek out the information,” Liel said primly, brushing a crumb off his blazer. “But I’m not opposed to gossip.”
“Here, Zef,” Tad said, holding out the spray bottle, and Zef took it and sprayed at the vines clinging to Bryce’s wrists. They recoiled from the soapy mixture, withdrawing back into the recess of the trellis.
With a small wince, Bryce lowered his hands and rubbed at his wrists. “They don’t like water?”
“They do not like my soap,” Zef corrected. “I have tried to reason with them. I even read a book on gentle-parenting, but that did not work either. This is the only method, other than the hat, that seems to work.”
“Some things can’t be gentle-parented,” Tad said with a shake of her bald head. “Sometimes, violence is the only answer.”
“Violence is never the answer, Tad,” Oliver said.
“Only wimpy losers say that,” Tad shot back, and Oliver reared back in offense.
“That was shockingly hurtful.”
“Ooh, you should fight her and prove her wrong,” Gem said as he shoved the rest of his food into his mouth. “And I’ll put on my bikini and walk around the ring with the round cards as the audience lusts after me.”
Oliver glared as Liel petted his arms in comfort. “So first you wanted Toni to bang Tad, and now I have to fight her?”
“Hey!” Gem held up several index fingers. “I never said the word bang. Tad, girl, I was respectful.”