Chapter 15 #2
Toa Sian had joined in, intrigued with the foreign dance, and the longer Bryce gave instruction, the more Mantodeas took interest. By the time Bryce thought they were ready to try with music, the pavement in front of the A-frame where the tables had stood—cleared away several hours prior to allow space for dancing—was now full of eager, somewhat inebriated, bodies.
A Bluetooth speaker had magically appeared, and Bryce connected his phone to it, pulling up a song by the same name as the dance and hit play. The music was upbeat and strange. Country, Bryce called it.
“You ready?” the human called as the vocalist began to sing in a twanging accent similar to Bryce’s own. “Here we go. And one, two, three, four.”
People stumbled and mis-stepped, but there was much laughter as they attempted to catch up. Moving in synchronized rows, they danced as one while not touching, so very similar to Mantodean dances. Flushed with drink and enjoyment, Zef focused on the beat and gave themself over to the music.
The singer instructed that if you were to drink, do not drive, but to do the Watermelon Crawl instead.
Since Zef had been drinking, they found it prudent to obey, and when the song entered the instrumental portion, they yelped in surprise as Bryce grabbed their hand and tugged them out of the line-up.
He led them in an adlibbed dance where he spun them around, then pulled them back in, never touching them except for the grip of their hand to ensure they were not lost. Others followed their example, breaking into their own dance moves, and Zef’s hair whirled around them as Bryce spun them around again.
For all his talk of left feet, he was a very good dancer, and Zef followed his lead, laughing when he incorporated some of the steps from the Mantodean waltz.
When the song ended, Zef was out of breath, and their hand was still tingling from where Bryce had held it.
The other dancers clapped and cheered, and Bryce blushed as they swarmed around him, all talking at once.
“He is very charming,” Toa Sian said as they caught their breath. “What a lively genre of music. I must ask him for recommendations.”
Apparently, the band agreed because they struck up a tune with a similar beat and feel, and the dancing started up again. Several hatchlings surrounded Bryce, jumping around him as he danced and wiggled in a silly fashion to make them giggle.
“He is quite lovely,” Zef said, pressing the back of their hand to their overheated cheek.
“And he is here temporarily?” they asked, and the erratic joy bouncing around in Zef’s chest lost momentum immediately.
“Yes.”
Toa Sian chirped in regret. “Pity.”
Bryce waved at them to join the dancing, but they did not feel like dancing anymore.
They gestured vaguely behind them, and the human frowned as they turned away and meandered toward one of the few tables still standing.
Hopping onto it, they swung their legs and leaned back on their lower hands, face to the dark sky.
The twin moons shone bright, and their breath fogged in front of their mouth. As their sweat cooled, the night air chilled them, and they shivered.
They heard his approach before they saw him, so they did not startle when Bryce said, “Zef, you okay?”
“Yes,” they said, still speaking to the sky. “I just needed to catch my breath.”
“Yeah, those kids are wearing me out.”
The table squeaked under Bryce’s weight as he propped his backside on the edge and crossed one foot over the other. His fingers curled around the edge of the table, and Zef wanted to reach out and lay their hand over top. They knew what his skin felt like now, and they… liked it.
“Sorry for grabbing your hand,” Bryce said, like he could read their thoughts. “When we were dancing. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”
“I liked the dancing,” Zef said, and Bryce turned, studying them closely.
His gray eyes glittered strangely in the moonlight, making their stomach tremble. “Good. I liked dancing with you too.”
Don and their pregnant partner headed away from the party, and they raised a tentative hand in farewell. Zef tilted their head in acknowledgment. Bryce waved half-heartedly back.
“Dick,” he mumbled, and Zef huffed in exasperation.
“You are biased.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Bryce rested his chin on his shoulder, scrutinizing Zef again. “Did you love them?
They made a rude noise. “Don? No. We courted very briefly. But when I made it clear I had no desire to procreate, they broke the courtship.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I harbor no ill will. They wanted hatchlings. I did not. Irrevocable circumstances,” Zef said flatly.
Bryce grunted. “But you still liked them. I mean, you wouldn’t have courted them if you hadn’t.”
Embarrassed, Zef looked back at the sky. It was easier admitting such things to the moons. “I courted them because they asked.”
Silence stretched as Bryce struggled to decode their word choice.
“What do you mean?”
“I am strange, Bryce, even amongst my people. I did not have suitors or childhood sweethearts. No puppy love. At first, I did not notice. Then I did not care. But then later, I did, so when Don asked, I said yes.” With a sigh, they sat up, folding their four hands in their lap as their legs swung.
“I was young, and I… I was curious. I wanted to know what it was like.”
His words were incredibly gentle as he asked, “What what was like?”
“What it was like to be wanted,” they admitted shamefully.
“Zef,” Bryce said, and the pity in his voice set their teeth on edge. “You are wanted.”
They scoffed at that. “I am not speaking from self-pity, Bryce, nor do I disparage myself. I am simply stating fact. I am loved and accepted, yes. I have many friends and people who like me, for which I am deeply grateful. But in the context of this, of romantic interest? No, I am not wanted.”
“Do you want that? To be wanted?” he asked, gray eyes intense, and that prickling along the back of Zef’s neck was back. It was everywhere, though, crackling over their scalp and buzzing down their arms.
They swallowed the sudden nerves collecting in their throat.
“I am not opposed. Romantic partnerships can be very beautiful and fulfilling. I do not need it,” they clarified, “as I am happy and content with myself and my life. But to find someone who cherishes me, who I can cherish in return… Well, who would refuse that?”
Bryce’s expression was so soft, and it made Zef fidget with the hem of their tunic. “But here, I am odd and strange. And outside the Colony…” They drifted off with a shrug, “Well, I do not foresee that happening.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I am a Mantodea,” they said matter-of-factly.
“So?”
Oh, it was cute how Bryce could be so smart, yet so naive.
“I have no interest in sex,” they said bluntly, and his thick brows rose half an inch.
“It is part of my identity, yes, but it is also part of my biology. Not to say all Mantodeas have a complete disinterest in the act of intercourse. We are not a monolith. But it is not inaccurate to say that most Mantodeas, in the eloquent words of Toni, do not fuck.”
At the curse, Bryce snorted a laugh, and Zef’s wings buzzed in satisfaction at the sound.
“Speaking in generalities, we lack the hormonal drive, the urges, the biological imperative for the sake of procreation. Down to our chromosomes, we do not need or, in most cases, want sex. Seeing as culture and society revolves around it, you can understand why we are so often overlooked as contenders for companionship by other species.”
“But sex ain’t everything,” Bryce said, and their chest squeezed exquisitely.
“Of course not, but that ideology is in the minority. Even you know that.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said, dropping his hands back to the table to fist the edges. “I just… It don’t sit right with me. People looking right through you simply because they can’t get that from you. Like sex is all any of us are worth. Don’t sit right.”
“Because you are wholly wonderful,” Zef said, and his head shot up, surprise painted over his face.
“I don’t think that makes me wonderful,” he whispered. “It makes me a decent human being.”
Leaning forward, they placed their top hands on the edge of the table beside Bryce’s, close enough they felt the static energy pulsing between them.
“Perhaps. Wanting sex, acknowledging that it is a priority, is not a failure of character. But neither is my disinterest. Why should I have to apologize or change simply because I do not want the element of sex in any relationship I may enter into?”
“You shouldn’t,” Bryce said resolutely. “There ain’t nothing wrong with you.”
Carefully, they scooted their hand closer to Bryce’s until the hairs on his knuckles tickled their skin, until they could feel the heat of him. “You see?” they whispered. “Wonderful.”
“Decent,” he corrected again, and Zef acquiesced.
“Still. Most people do not view me as a viable candidate for partnership outside circles that think and believe as I do. That I am not lacking. That I am not broken. That I am worthy of love and acceptance exactly as I am. And I am fully ready and willing to live and enjoy my life unpartnered, until the day I join my ancestors, rather than ever settle for less than that simply to not be alone.”
A sheen glinted in the human’s eyes, his expression full of something Zef thought was pride. “I am in awe of you,” he said, voice rough, and they ducked their head, emotions they could not name rising in their chest.
They said, “I am simply who I am.”
And Bryce said, “I know, and you are wholly wonderful.”
Unable to look at him, too afraid of what they might see in his eyes, Zef inhaled shakily and squeezed their lower hands in their lap.
Their top right hand, however, shifted once more, a mere inch, until their pinkie skated over Bryce’s.
The human’s gaze was heavy on the side of their face, but they still could not look at him.
Instead, they curled their pinkie just enough to slot between his fingers, anchoring them together by that one singular point. Hidden between their bodies, shrouded in shadow, it went unnoticed by those around them, a secret only for them.
Under the light of the twin moons, Zef watched the Mantodeas dance as Bryce watched them, and by the time the night of frivolity ended, their entire body was alight with tingles.