Chapter 21 Good Tingles #2
“I am not ready for kissing yet,” they said, voice shaking. “But I think I will want to know what it feels like to kiss you. One day.”
With a broken sound, Bryce guided their hand to his cheek and nuzzled their palm. “That’s real good, Zef. One day, if you’re ready, I’ll kiss you.”
“I look forward to it,” they said shyly, and he smiled so brightly.
Holding eye contact, he tilted his head and pressed his lips against their palm, and a ripple of heat ricocheted down their spine with so much force they physically jolted. A series of shocked whirs and clicks vibrated in their chest, and his grin sharpened.
“Good tingles?” he asked, voice low and rumbling like the thunderclouds in his eyes.
“Yes,” they said breathlessly.
“Good,” he said, then he kissed their palm again, and Zef was utterly lost to him.
As May turned to June, Zef continued their experimentation.
It was almost a game now, one Bryce enjoyed playing with them.
They would bound up to him, announcing, “Test,” and he would stop what he was doing—as long as it was safe to do so—and they would touch him.
Hands on his chest, his arms, his belly and neck.
Then later, his back, the sharp bones of his shoulder blades and squishy flesh framing his spine.
And when they had finished touching and thinking, Bryce would ask, “Good or bad?”
And Zef almost always replied, “Good.”
The one time they had replied, “Bad,” had been the time in mid-June when they were gardening together. Zef had placed a hand on his back as leverage to push themself to standing, but his shirt had been sweaty, so their hand slipped. Right onto his squishy backside.
With a squawk, they had scrabbled away in horror as Bryce rounded on them with wide eyes. “Dang, warn a boy before you grab his ass, won’t’cha?”
“I am so sorry. It was an accident!” they had cried as the human burst into laughter.
“I know. Calm down. I don’t care if you want to touch my butt, Zef. Just maybe not when I’m sweaty.” He’d winked playfully before returning to this task, and Zef had been left speechless.
Did they want to touch his butt? They were unsure. It seemed a very intimate location, but they had been sharing more intimacies lately.
Cautiously, they reached out and pressed two fingers to his left butt cheek. He watched them, shaking with laughter, and they grimaced.
“Good or bad?” he asked between chuckles.
“Bad, I think. It is… hmm… I do not know. It is your backside.”
“Yup,” he said.
“It is strange,” they said.
“Okay,” he said.
“Do you want to touch my backside?” they asked curiously, and his crooked grin they had come to adore sharpened into the flirtatious smile that made them tingle in all the good ways.
“I most certainly do.”
Somehow, they had not expected that answer, and they squeaked, jaw dropping. He winked at them, and their body flushed hot under their skin.
“You absolute brute,” they said, but he only laughed.
He had not touched their backside. Not yet.
But he had touched them in other places.
When he passed them by the stove, a palm on the small of their back.
Hands on their hips to move them aside so he could grab something from a cupboard they were blocking.
Fingers foxtrotting down their chest when they lay on the couch with their head in his lap.
On some level, it frightened them how quickly they adjusted to the physical intimacy. If they were a good Mantodea, they would slow things down, but perhaps they were not a good Mantodea, after all. Maybe they never had been.
Though, Bryce seemed to like them just as they were, and they liked him so very much.
They liked him so much, in fact, that they had even started hugging, and Zef discovered that they liked hugging very much.
The first time had been when Bryce officially asked them for courtship.
It was a Friday after a particularly hectic week at work because Rusty and Gem were on vacation and their newest hire, an Ophys named Abi, was still in training, so Zef had been sent to Greed to support Oliver.
Working the register was not their strong suit, and they were in a cramped foreign space, surrounded by demanding corporate customers in suits.
How they had made it through the week without a meltdown could only be attributed to their poise and grace.
And Oliver, who was genuinely a lovely and supportive coworker.
After closing the Greed location at three, Zef had never been more grateful to take refuge at home. They immediately showered and donned their muumuu, then turned on their newest fixation series, How It’s Made, as they ate the last slice of the last cake left from their fertility cycle.
It was on the stale side, but they did not care. They wanted the sugar rush.
Which was how Bryce found them an hour later.
“Hey, baby, how was work?” he asked as he passed behind them, giving their ponytail a tug.
“Terrible, but I have survived it because I, according to Nan, am a strong and independent woman,” they deadpanned, and Bryce chortled. “I may not be a woman, but I connect with the sentiment. Would you like to watch how springs are made? It is utterly fascinating.”
“I’m gonna shower, so knock yourself out.”
“I have never understood that saying,” they called as the bathroom door shut. “Why would knocking myself unconscious ever be good advice?”
Since Bryce was already in the shower, he did not answer, and Zef focused back on their show.
When he joined them on the couch a half hour later, he smelled strongly of their homemade soap and the musky deodorant he used. He paused their show, and they shot him a glare.
“I was watching that.”
“I know, but I have something important to ask you,” he said, hands fidgeting with a small box.
“Can it not wait until the episode is over?” they asked, and he scowled at them.
“I promise this’ll be quick,” he said flatly, and Zef sighed but turned to face him on the couch. He handed them the box, and they took it. “This is for you.”
The sound of many small objects rattled inside, and Zef unwrapped the packaging warily. “It is not my hatchday.”
“I know,” Bryce said as he reached behind the couch armrest to grab something out of sight. As he settled back on the cushion, he was holding a manilla folder and a small pot with a pink vivaryn plant, and Zef froze.
“Bryce,” they said, and he cleared his throat nervously.
“If my gift of affection and my portfolio of future are in alignment with your desires, it would be my honor if you accept this plant as a token of our courtship,” he said.
The words were almost right, a rough translation of the customary Mantodean offering. His delivery was awkward given the stilted phrasing, but it was perfect all the same.
Speechless, they took the manilla folder with one hand as their top two continued to unwrap the gift. It was a simple wooden box, stained dark, with a lid connected by a metal hinge. They opened it and peered inside.
“Are these…” They poured out the contents as their wings buzzed in excitement. “Are these your baby teeth?”
“Yes,” he said, “and in any other context, this would be the weirdest gift I’ve ever given anyone. But it ain’t weird giving them to you.”
With a wet laugh, they inspected each one, trilling happily. “They are so tiny, and I love them. I will add them to my shelf, right in the middle so everyone can see them.”
Once they had looked their fill, they poured the teeth back into the pretty box and smoothed a hand over the manilla folder. “I shall read your portfolio tonight.”
“Okay,” he accepted immediately, like he had been expecting that. “Then I shall keep our courtship plant from dying as best I can.”
“I would accept the vivaryn now, if you are agreeable.”
“But you’re supposed to read my portfolio first,” he said, even as he offered them the pink plant.
They framed the pot in their hands without taking it from his hold. “I do not care about the portfolio.”
“I worked really hard on it,” he whined, and they snickered.
“I will still read it. It simply bears no relevance on whether I wish to accept your bid for courtship.”
“So that’s a yes?” he asked, and Zef nodded, taking the vivaryn and hugging it close.
“Yes, Bryce, I accept your bid for courtship. I shall prepare my bid for yours posthaste.”
Beaming at them, he waved his hand dismissively. “No, you don’t gotta do that. I already accept your courtship.”
“I shall still prepare a portfolio for you. My last one is severely out of date,” they insisted as Bryce reached out and cupped their cheek. They pressed their face firmer to his palm and thrummed.
With the vivaryn centered on the kitchen island, Zef led Bryce to the hall where they displayed his baby teeth, right in the middle where everyone would see.
Their wings fluttered in satisfaction as Bryce took their hand and laced their fingers.
It was a new way of holding hands, and they were still adjusting to it, but they did not pull away.
“Bryce,” they said as they turned to face him, “I have been thinking about something.”
“Okay, hit me with it,” he said as he tucked his free hand in his pocket.
“Another very strange saying,” they mumbled before shaking their head to get back on track. “I have been thinking about hugging. Are you amenable?”
He was the one speechless now, blinking at them in genuine surprise.
“You wanna hug?” he clarified, and they nodded.
“Yes, I would like to engage in an affectionate but non-sensual embrace. If you are—eep!”
Tugging them forward, Bryce hugged them before they could even finish, arms slipping between their upper and lower ones, hands flattening to their back under their wings. His face fitted naturally into the nape of their neck, and he shuddered in something akin to relief, his exhale hot and wet.
They froze at the suddenness of it, and Bryce felt it. He made a pained noise and made to release them and step away, but they stopped him.
“No,” they said, gripping his waist with all four hands. “It is alright. I would like you to hug me.”
On a sigh, he melted right back into place, and Zef carefully wrapped their arms around him, tangling their fingers in the back of his shirt.
Their bodies met from chest to thigh, and it was the closest they had ever been.
Anxiety tickled the back of their neck, and their fingers trembled, but they breathed slowly through it.
This was Bryce, their dear friend and roommate, and now, their suitor.
They had never felt more safe or cared for or wanted than in his presence.
They did not have to be afraid of this intimacy, not when it was Bryce sharing it with them.
So they breathed and rubbed their cheek over their beloved’s head as they held him close.
And ancestors above, it was so good.