Chapter 11 #2
“Pink is my favorite color. How did she know pink was my favorite color?” they asked Bryce as they set their heeled boots aside.
“I told her,” he said, and their face did something complicated, their wings buzzing.
“But how did you know?”
He fought a blush as he shrugged. “You wear a lot of pink at home, and I just assumed.”
“Bryce is so attentive and caring,” they told Oliver, who was smirking unfairly.
“He’s pretty great,” he agreed, and Zef nodded.
“He is.” Turning to Bryce, they repeated, “You are.”
Thoroughly embarrassed now, he rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled nonsensically as Oliver snickered under his breath. He led them further into the apartment. Liel was in the kitchen finishing a charcuterie tray, and he took the wine from Oliver with a pleased smile.
“Oh, you have excellent taste,” he said as he read the label.
“Bougie,” Oliver teased, and the Gymnot rolled his eyes with a huff.
Over the next hour, the rest of the cafe crew arrived. Glyma and Quin with Willow and her boyfriend, Krul, hot on their heels. Toni, Jude, Gem, and Rusty arrived together, Gem and Jude bickering about Star Wars, for some reason.
Jude took a fortifying breath, like he was fighting for patience. “They’re Jedis—”
“Yeah, space wizards,” Gem agreed, and air whistled through Jude’s nose on a slow exhale.
“They use the Force—”
“Space magic,” Gem interjected, and Jude’s eye twitched.
“To fight against the dark side—”
“Space villains,” Gem said, and Jude threw up his hands in frustration.
“Argh, Toni! Gem’s making it sound stupid!”
Toni hooked an arm around Jude’s shoulders, black eyes narrowing at Gem. “Stop making Jude’s movie sound stupid!”
“I’m not!” Gem crossed several arms over his torso and pouted. “If anything, I’m making it sound way more interesting.”
Tad appeared at some point, entering the living room from the direction of Oliver and Liel’s bedroom. “How did she get in here?” Oliver asked Liel, and the other man shrugged.
“I didn’t let her in.”
“She breaks into our place all the time,” Bryce said around his sip of apple cider. “I’ve stopped questioning it.”
“But we’re, like, nine floors up,” Oliver said.
“I don’t think that can stop her,” Liel said.
“Few things can,” Bryce said.
“Oi, bitchin’ hat, Zef,” Tad said, and Zef beamed at the Anura.
“Thank you, Tad. Look at the sweater Nan made me. Is it not wonderful?”
Fashionably late, Enfys strolled confidently into the apartment in a red cocktail dress and green knee-high boots. Her orange moth wings were folded flat to her back, her fluffy antennas fluttering as she sent Bryce a finger-wave.
“Merry Christmas, Bryce. Don’t you look…” Her inky black eyes scanned him from head to toe, a sultry smile on her face. “Handsome.”
The word itself was innocent, but the way she said it somehow made it sound wholly inappropriate. Which made him blush horribly. That was the point, of course. He didn’t think Enfys was genuinely interested in him, but she flirted all the same, her own form of entertainment.
“Uh, thank you. You look very nice too.”
She tittered deeply. “I know I do, precious, but thank you for the compliment.”
“Nan made his sweater,” Zef said from behind Enfys, making the Lepid jump. “She made me one too, and in my favorite color.”
“Deities below, you can’t sneak up on a girl like that!” She pressed one of her four hands to her flat chest. “And what in the world is a nan?”
“My grandma,” Bryce explained as Zef shifted to stand beside him, showing off their sweater proudly.
Enfys’s responding smile held a hint of a sneer as she said, “Well, ain’t that nice.”
“It is,” Zef agreed.
The last to arrive was Cya, the newest addition to the group from Bryce’s understanding.
They were young, not a day over twenty if he had to guess, though they were trying to act mature to fit in with their older co-workers.
They spoke with a posh accent indicative of the Pride district, and though everyone was friendly, Bryce could tell the others didn’t quite know what to do with them.
They were a Sypent, their snake-like lower half covered in deep green scales that shimmered in the light, their tail ending in a black rattle.
A tunic-like garment hung from their narrow shoulders, and they were covered in gold jewelry.
Their torso was more humanoid, their long green hair matching the color of their tail, their skin a dark bronze.
Instead of joining into conversation, Cya hovered around the edges, observing the group with intense golden eyes. Knowing what it felt like to be an outsider, Bryce made his way over to them and extended a hand.
“Hey, I don’t think we were properly introduced last time,” he said as the Sypent sized him up with a bored expression. “I’m Bryce.”
“Cya,” they said as they shook his hand, the bangles on their arm jingling.
“You’re new, right?”
“Not exactly. I worked closing shifts for a few months, but I’m moving to the day shift now that Oliver and the Araknis are moving to the Greed location,” they said, gaze jumping between him and Zef across the room. “You are the Mantodea’s partner?”
“Roommate,” Bryce corrected. “I’m doing a study abroad program, and Zef’s letting me crash at theirs for the next, like, nine months or so.”
The first sign of interest crossed Cya’s face. “Study abroad? Explain.”
It was a demand, not a request, but Bryce decided not to take offense. From what he’d gleaned about Pentagram society, Hellians from Pride and Greed were wealthy and even snooty. Cya was probably accustomed to getting their way and ordering people around.
Plus, they were just a kid. He didn’t want to judge them too harshly.
“Yeah, I’m a vet back home. An animal doctor,” he explained when Cya’s brow furrowed. “And there’s this three-semester program where we study Hellian animal species. I thought it sounded fun.”
“Fun?” they echoed incredulously.
“I’ve always liked school and learning. Studying here sounded so interesting, I figured I’d give it a shot.”
Cya hummed. “I see. I attend university as well.”
“Oh yeah? What are you studying?”
“Business,” they said, looking bored again.
“What made you choose business?”
Their eyes pinched. “Well, my parents allowed me to choose between business, law, or medicine. So I chose business.”
“But you don’t like it?” he asked. Well, he meant to ask, but it came out more as a statement because it was clear by their expression and posture that they didn’t.
Startled, they stared at him unblinking for several loaded seconds before they turned away, crossing their arms protectively over their chest. “It’s not about liking or disliking. It’s school.”
“I guess, but you should still like what you’re studying, especially if you’re gonna be working that field the rest of your life, right?”
Like he was speaking a foreign language, Cya side-eyed him judgmentally before they said, “Excuse me,” and abruptly walked—slithered?—away.
Someone snorted, and Bryce glared down at Rusty as he sidled up next to him, claws clicking on the floor. “Smooth.”
“I was just making conversation,” Bryce muttered.
“They’re not much for conversation. Gem tries to talk to them at work, and they literally ignore him. It drives him crazy.”
“They’re young,” Bryce said, and Rusty nodded into his cider. “Oh, have you read the D&D manuals I gave you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I think I get how it’s supposed to work.”
“And?” Bryce prompted.
“I may have some ideas,” Rusty said vaguely, and Bryce grinned.
“Awesome. Can’t wait to play one of your campaigns.”
Rusty’s whiskers twitched. “Whatever.”
“Oh, where can I find your graphic novel, by the way? I want to read it.”
With a grimace, Rusty scratched behind his ear. “It’s not, like, anything special. It’s stupid.”
“I highly doubt that.” Bryce knocked his shoulder gently. “Let me give it a try.”
The Pyclon grudgingly sent him a link to his graphic novel, written under an account named Rosheen, and though he acted huffy, Bryce caught the way his tail fluffed up.
Before the night drew to a close, they all squished together to take a selfie, Gem’s arm stretched as far as possible to fit everyone into frame.
Zef laid a hand on Toni’s shoulder to steady their balance as they leaned into Bryce’s side.
For the brief moment it took Gem to snap the picture, the length of Zef’s body pushed into Bryce’s, two of their arms loosely framing his back without making full contact.
They smelled like their homemade soap and tea leaves, and Bryce couldn’t resist angling his head just enough to bring their cheeks within kissing distance.
As Gem lowered his hand and inspected the pictures, Zef straightened, and their arms dropped from behind Bryce’s back.
He turned toward them, their faces still close, and Zef smiled softly at him.
The ends of their antennas surged forward, tickling over his forehead, there and gone again before he’d even fully realized what was happening.
“Merry Christmas, Bryce,” Zef said.
It took him an extra breath to respond. “Merry Christmas, Zef.”