Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Extenuating Circumstances
Bryce
The next morning, Bryce awoke first. He brewed enough coffee for them both, then heated the kettle in case Zef would want tea instead.
In the mood for French toast, he sliced some of Zef’s homemade bread and whipped up an egg wash using hunlet eggs, cinnamon, and a pinch of kanyl, a Hellian spice that was similar to cinnamon but with a spicy edge to it.
As he fried the toast on the skillet, he heard noise from Zef’s bedroom, and nerves exploded in his belly.
Last night had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but he was feeling centered now.
Not to say that he wasn’t anxious to see how Zef felt this morning, after sleeping on things, but he didn’t feel off balance and lost like he had last night.
Zef’s bedroom door opened when Bryce was cooking the last pieces of French toast, and he glanced over his shoulder, drinking in the sight of the Mantodea.
They were already watching him with large, white eyes, top hands smoothing the collar of their fluffy, pink robe, their lower hands fidgeting with the tie.
Their hair was in a messy braid, their feet covered in their fuzzy, pink slippers.
Bryce smiled at them, and their cheeks flushed dark green instantly. “Good morning,” he said, and they fiddled with the end of their braid as they returned the greeting bashfully.
Sometimes, they were so adorable he could barely stand it.
His arms itched to pull them into an embrace, to rub the tension from their back and smooth the concerned wrinkle between their brows.
Maybe one day, they’d let him reassure them that way.
For now, he simply turned back to the stove to keep the toast from burning.
Approaching cautiously, Zef paused at even intervals, like they were measuring their comfort level as the distance shrank. Their gaze was heavy on the back of Bryce’s neck, but he didn’t turn around. He gave them the time they needed as he finished the food and turned off the burner.
“Thank you for the coffee,” they said as they filled their Sunday coffee mug.
“You’re welcome.” Bryce retrieved the honyl from the cupboard and the powdered sugar from under the kitchen island. “You sleep okay?”
Their left antenna flicked. “Shorter than I prefer, but it is my own fault, I suppose.”
“Hungry?”
They cocked their head curiously. “What is that?”
“French toast. I don’t know if it’s actually French or not, but it’s what Americans call it.
We eat it with maple syrup, but I think honyl will do just fine.
” Setting the plate of French toast on the table, he gestured for Zef to sit across from him, and they lowered themself into the chair, sipping at their coffee.
Bryce helped himself to the food, topping his toast with Hellian berries, powdered sugar and a drizzle of honyl, the Hellian version of honey. It was darker and thicker than bee honey, with a more caramelized taste, and it complimented the cinnamon nicely.
Studying his plate, Zef copied him until their piles of toast matched. Then they took a hesitant bite, wings fluttering behind their back. They chewed slowly, deep in thought.
“It is very sweet,” they said. “Why do humans eat dessert for breakfast?”
“Not sure. I think it’s more of an American thing than a human thing, though. Most other countries eat healthier breakfasts.”
“Mantodeas eat nuts and fruits for breakfast,” they said, and Bryce hummed.
“Huh, I didn’t know that.”
Zef nodded, taking another bite of their toast. Then they blurted, “I do not want to fake small talk. We are pretending there is not a bulgridge in the room, and I find it unpleasant.”
Amusement sparked to life in his chest, and he chuckled. “Okay, let’s skip the small talk then.”
Instead of responding right away, they took another bite and chewed, like they were buying time. “I am unsure where to start. I feel awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be awkward. Is there something in particular weighing on your mind? Because we can start there if you like,” he suggested, and they nodded.
“Sex,” they said, making Bryce choke his coffee. Their wings buzzed in alarm as he coughed harshly. “Forgive me. I should have spoken more delicately.”
“I’m good,” he wheezed as he cleared his throat, and Zef nibbled on their bottom lip as they watched him struggle to catch his breath. Once he was no longer asphyxiating, he gave them a nod of reassurance. “See? Right as rain.”
“What a strange expression,” they said. “Like saying something is easy as cake. That does not make sense. Baking cake is time consuming and complicated. It is the opposite of easy.”
“Technically, the saying is ‘easy as pie’.”
They practically rolled their eyes. “Then my argument still stands. Pie is also not easy.”
“You’re right. I’m not sure where that saying comes from. Or calling something that’s easy a piece of cake. Seems unrelated.”
“That is what I mean. It does not make any sense. If we must use a saying to communicate something is easy, we should use a thing or activity that is actually easy. Like walking or breathing.”
“That’s ableist. Walking is hard for some people,” Bryce countered, and Zef sent him a droll stare.
They whistled in annoyance. “Now you are just being argumentative.”
“I just like seeing you huffy.”
“I do not get huffy,” they huffed. Huffily.
Bryce chuckled. “Of course not. How dare I insinuate such a thing.”
“You are teasing me,” they accused, and he shrugged.
“Just a little.”
With a shake of their head, and a small smile, they cut another piece from their toast and popped it into their mouth. “Incorrigible,” they mumbled around their food.
Taking pity on them, Bryce took a swig of coffee and pushed through his own awkwardness to ask, “Is there something specific about sex you wanted to discuss, or just the general subject?”
Their fork froze over their plate, and their wings buzzed again. “Perhaps I am being presumptuous, but I wanted to clarify before anything further develops between us. I have no desire to engage in sexual intercourse with you.”
“I know,” Bryce said, hating the tiny piece of his ego that stung at their admission. “I’ve always known that.”
“I will not change my mind,” they insisted.
“I ain’t planning on asking you to,” he said with just as much certainty. “I am attracted to you that way, I ain’t gonna lie, but I don’t need or expect you to do anything about that. I’m a big boy, and I can take care of myself.”
At that, their shoulders loosened, but before they could respond, he kept going. “Since we’re talking candidly about this, I have a question for you. Does it bother you that I have—or at least, that I’m capable of having those types of feelings for you? That my body might respond that way to you.”
“You speak of erections?” Zef asked, and Bryce pressed his lips together to keep from snickering like a school boy.
“Yes.”
They blinked in surprise. “I give you erections?”
This time, he did bark a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as his face heated. “I mean, I’ve done my best to be respectful, but yeah, it has happened.”
Like they truly had never considered that possibility, they gaped at him.
Then they sat back in their chair and released a series of chirps and clicks.
In English they said, “May I have a minute to think about it? I will not leave,” they rushed to add, patting the table. “I will stay and think here. With you.”
“Sure, Zef. That’s fine. Thanks for staying.”
They smiled sweetly at him before they turned away and tapped their chin with two green fingers. Thinking. About Bryce. About Bryce’s erections, specifically. He didn’t want to think about that himself or else he might actually get hard, so he busied himself with finishing his French toast.
After a fashion, Zef dropped their hand to the table and faced Bryce again.
“I do not find that unpleasant. You are wired differently than me, but that does not make it wrong. You find me pleasing, which is flattering and makes me feel, however selfishly, a bit proud. As long as there is never an expectation for me to engage sexually with you when you have those feelings…”
They left their sentence hanging, so Bryce jumped in. “I have no such expectations. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable if ever I… get worked up.”
“I am not disgusted by your sexuality or desire, and your bodily reactions are natural.” They smiled mischievously. “I cannot exactly fault you for them, now can I?”
“How very understanding of you,” he teased, and they snickered. “But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t foresee any situations arising—”
Zef snorted, but other than a chiding look, he ignored their immaturity.
“—anytime soon where we’d be faced with something sexual.”
“Neither do I,” they agreed.
“Because you’re still figuring out how you feel about me, right?” he asked, and Zef nodded.
“I have never had romantic feelings before, and I have always found feelings, in general, difficult to navigate. But I know you feel different. Or I feel differently about you then I do about any others,” they corrected, and heck, if that didn’t make Bryce feel ten feet tall.
“I know I care for you very deeply, and I know I wish to explore what that means and how it might develop.”
Hesitantly, he scooted his hand across the table and teased the tips of Zef’s fingers with his. “I’d like that too. I’d like to court you. Unless that’s still too much for you.”
Their antennas wriggled wildly as they ran the pad of an index finger over the first row of Bryce’s knuckles. “No, I… I think I would like that.”
“Are you sure?”
“We would still be as we are, right?” they asked, finger tapping Bryce’s middle finger. “We would still do all the things that we do together, like cooking and reading and watching documentaries and hanging out with our friends?”
“Of course we would.”