Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Penis-Brain
Bryce
Oh Lord, Bryce was crushing on Zef. It was official. Call the newspapers. Set up a press conference. Make it national news. He was crushing, and he was crushing hard.
It was more than fascination, more than curiosity. It was even more than the basic physical attraction he’d felt from the moment they’d first met. There were clear and present feelings, but he wasn’t sure what to do about them.
Part of him wanted to stamp them out, because he didn’t want to ruin the very good thing he had going—not only because if Zef kicked him out, he’d have no place to live, but because he didn’t want to risk the deepening friendship he’d built with them.
But the other part? The part that had felt Zef’s fingers graze over his knuckles, the part that had sat across the table from them as they had offered him their hand, the part that had danced with them under the twin moons and anchored their pinkies together.
Yeah, that part wanted to throw caution to the wind and ask Zef how they felt about cuddling. Or kissing.
They were open to romance, to relationships. They’d said they wanted to be wanted. And hell, Bryce wanted them.
So maybe cuddling and kissing would be on the table?
Sex wouldn’t, but that was okay with him.
Sure, he could enjoy sex well enough, but he was also perfectly content with his hand when the need arose.
But kissing? Cuddling? Yeah, he really liked those things, and if Zef didn’t, or couldn’t, meet him there, then he feared it might be a dealbreaker.
Granted, he was clearly getting ahead of himself.
He didn’t even know if Zef liked him romantically at all.
Maybe the new touching was simply a sign of friendly affection in their culture, a gesture to communicate the depth of their friendship.
Which was reason enough to celebrate, don’t get him wrong, but there was still that stubborn part that hoped.
Maybe, just maybe, Zef was crushing too.
His hope wasn’t entirely unfounded, right?
Zef was touching him more often, and each time, it seemed to come easier for them.
They invited him to do more things with them, like allowing him to watch their religious meditation ritual where they—Bryce assumed—prayed to their ancestors.
Or, as April rolled into May, asking him to help them plant the human flowers in the garden.
As they dug in the cold earth, side by side, their fingers brushed, but instead of pulling away, Zef simply bit their lower lip to stave off a smile as their cheeks flushed dark green. Which had to mean something. At least, he thought it meant something.
Who was he kidding? He mostly hoped it meant something. But he couldn’t know for sure unless he asked. Which was terrifying in its own right.
“Bryce!” Gem barked, tearing him from his thoughts and back to the D&D campaign at hand. “Tell Jude I’m allowed to roll for charisma so I can fuck the Minotaur!”
Since Gem was constantly rolling to seduce any monster the party faced before even considering fighting them, Bryce didn’t try to argue. “He can seduce the Minotaur if he wants.”
“Or we could just attack it,” Jude said like it was the most logical course of action—because it was, but Gem wasn’t exactly one for logic.
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t fuck the Minotaur?” Gem asked accusingly.
“No, Gem, as shocking it sounds, I don’t want to fuck the man with a cow head. I understand why that is very difficult for you to accept, though,” Jude said as Toni barked a laugh and high-fived him.
“Mr. Cow,” Bryce whispered, and Rusty’s head shot up from behind his DM handbook so fast he had to have gotten whiplash.
“What?” the Pyclon demanded.
Pointing to the Minotaur figure, Bryce innocently said, “Because he has a cow head. I thought we could call him Mr. Cow.”
Gem tittered uncomfortably, exchanging a panicked look with Rusty. “That’s so funny, Bryce. So funny and random and not at all applicable to real life.”
“That sounds stupid,” Toni said. “The Minotaur sounds way more threatening. Adding mister to anything makes it sound like an old guy wearing socks with his sandals, telling dad jokes.”
“That’s not my experience,” Oliver said, and Liel grinned fiendishly as he whispered, “Mr. Barnes,” into his ear.
Bryce scratched the back of his neck. “I think we’re getting off track.”
“Or getting on track if I win this roll and fuck the Minotaur,” Gem said. “You’re welcome to all of you for saving your lives with my magical pussy.”
“I still don’t think that should have been allowed as a character strength,” Jude muttered.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t, you unwhimsical bitch,” Rusty said flatly.
“Watch it,” Toni warned.
“You’re just siding with Gem because you’re the one fucking that magical pussy,” Jude accused, and Rusty grinned smugly, flashing canines.
“You’re godsdamned right he fucks this magical pussy,” Gem preened, fluttering his many lashes at Rusty. “And he does it with his magical dick. Seriously, it’s majestic!”
“Gem, we’ve talked about this,” both Rusty and Toni cried simultaneously.
“Stop talking about Rusty’s dick,” Toni said at the same time Rusty said, “Stop talking about my dick!”
Eight eyes split between them, Gem clasped his top hands together and simpered, “Oh my gods, you guys! You’re finally agreeing on something. It’s so beautiful.”
Fortunately for the party—but unfortunately for everyone in that room except Gem—the Araknis rolled a seventeen on charisma and proceeded to enthusiastically bone the Minotaur.
Looking back, it was probably a good thing that Zef never joined their party. Everyone was just way too horny all the time.
“The mini quiches are ready for eating,” Zef announced proudly as they entered the living room where they’d set up the circular folding table.
“You don’t want to be here right now,” Bryce said, pointing at Gem. “He is about to have sex with the Minotaur.”
Surfacing from the deep-throated kiss he’d been sharing with Liel, Oliver said, “Wait, can’t we skip that?”
“Um, no, we aren’t skipping the sex,” Gem said, entirely offended.
“But I have to play the role of the Minotaur.” Rusty grimaced as Toni’s face paled in horror.
“If I have to sit here and listen to Gem and Rusty role-play sex, I’m out!” Toni lifted his hands in surrender and stood from the table.
“Yes, it is horrifying,” Zef said mournfully, antennas drooping before their eyes widened, catching their slip. “Would be,” they corrected quickly. “It would be horrifying.”
Gem slumped in his seat. “No, you’re right. Our sex is too fire, and it would probably kill Zef. And, babes”—he spun in his chair to face Zef—“I can’t have that on my conscience.”
“Thank gods Zef is here,” Toni mumbled as he sat back down.
To the rest of the table, Gem said, “We will skip the sex. But only in the game. Rest assured, the sex is happening when we get home.” He winked one big eye at Rusty. “You’re gonna make such a good Minotaur, babe.”
“Don’t wink like that,” Rusty whispered, “then everyone will think we’re gonna do it.”
“But we are gonna do it,” Gem whispered back so very, very seriously.
“Maybe we can move on,” Bryce said as he took one of Zef’s mini quiches, gesturing at Rusty to take back control of the narrative.
The Pyclon nodded, pulling his book back up. “Right. So, now that the Minotaur has been… satisfied—”
“Thoroughly,” Gem added, and Rusty sighed deeply.
“Thoroughly,” he echoed, and Gem kicked his feet and giggled profusely.
A short while later, as everyone was preparing to leave, Oliver paused at the door as Liel slipped on his loafers. “Zef said your birthday’s coming up. Wanna go out and do something? Club, bar, restaurant?”
“Strip joint?” Gem called from outside.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that sounds fun. Not the strip joint,” Bryce clarified, and Oliver nodded like that was a given. “I’m not one for clubbing, but maybe a chill bar or something.”
“Toni will know a spot. You want to keep it small, or should we invite everyone?”
“Everyone is good,” Bryce said, and Oliver slapped his shoulder.
“Cool. I’ll throw it in the group chat, and we’ll go from there.”
Patting Oliver’s back, Bryce shadowed him to the door. “Thanks, Oliver.”
“Oh, don’t thank me. It was Zef’s idea. I just know they get overwhelmed with planning stuff, so I told them I’d figure out the details,” Oliver said as followed Liel down the porch steps. “See you later, Bryce.”
“Bye.”
He waved vaguely as he shut the door, turning to search out the Mantodea.
They were in the kitchen, putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
Humming “Watermelon Crawl” under their breath, they moved the dishes Bryce had already loaded to the “correct” spots that made sense in their beautiful brain, then added the soap.
Their hair was piled in a messy bun, stray strands gracing their elegant neck.
His fingers itched to reach out and touch, to brush the hair aside so he could press his face to their neck and breathe them in.
He wanted to tuck himself around their fragile body and hold them close.
And yeah, he wanted to know what they tasted like, if their lips would carry the flavor of their favorite tea or the minty lip balm they always used.
Crap, he’d have to tell them about his crush soon, before it grew too big too fast. He’d want to know if they weren’t interested in him sooner rather than later, to save himself some heartbreak. But not yet. He wasn’t ready to risk losing everything just yet.
“Oliver wants to take me out for my birthday,” he said as Zef straightened, turning to face him.
“That is a stupendous idea. How thoughtful of Oliver to suggest it.”
Well, if that was how Zef wanted to play it, Bryce would go along. “You’ll come too, right?”
“Of course.” They leaned against the kitchen island in front of him and reached out to straighten his shirt collar. “I would not miss it.”
“Good,” he said, capturing a flyway and curling it around his finger. “Your hair looks nice like this.”