Chapter 8 #2
He clears his throat and opens his laptop again. "Shut up. Do you want to learn about hanky code or not?"
"Hanky code?"
"Oh boy." He spins the laptop toward me. "So back in the seventies..."
He launches into an explanation about colored handkerchiefs and back pockets, but my brain's doing that thing where it pretends to listen while actually going completely rogue. Because now I know what a twink is.
And Ethan? Definitely a twink. Tyler's boyfriend, with that reddish hair and those green eyes, is a classic twink.
Fuck. I thought Ethan was hot. That should probably have been my first clue, right?
But Doc... I glance at him while he's gesturing about left pocket versus right pocket. He's smaller than Ethan, even. When he leaned over to look at my notes, I could've rested my chin on top of his head. My hand would probably wrap entirely around his wrist.
Huh. So I like tiny guys. Interesting.
"—and that's how they communicated before apps," Sebastian finishes.
"Right. Absolutely." I have no idea what he just said.
"You weren't listening at all."
"I was! Handkerchiefs. Pockets. Very educational."
He rolls his eyes, but there's a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. "Moving on. Let's talk about drag."
"Like RuPaul?"
"Basically, yeah. It's the art form of performers dressing and performing as different gender expressions."
"Oh! Like Sylas at Halloween."
Sebastian's eyes go wide. "Sylas? Do you mean Sylas Wells?
"Yeah, he's Ethan's bff. He showed up to the frat house in full Hedwig makeup, lookin for Ethan. Blonde wig, ripped fishnets, the whole thing. Thought some of the guys were gonna have a stroke."
His whole body tenses. "How did they react? Were they… bad to him?"
He looks nervous again. Oh, right. Frat houses and their reputation. "Everyone loved it, actually. Well, except Sylas when he saw Tyler carrying Ethan away." I grin at the memory. "The Man is one fierce Queen. I wouldn't want to be on his bad side; he'd geld me with a stiletto."
Sebastian actually laughs at that; his tension melts away. "Yeah, Sylas would 100% do that."
I must look confused at how he's talking about Sylas because he explains, "Sylas is kinda famous on campus. I don't think there's a queer that doesn't know him. He's an amazing performer."
Looking down at his laptop, then at me, he smiles. "Okay, so you understand drag. Good. Related to that, genderfluid means someone whose gender identity isn't fixed and can change."
"Like day to day?"
"Could be. Or over longer periods. Everyone's different."
I nod, adding it to my notes. Then I notice he's shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable.
"So, um. We should probably cover some other terms." He clears his throat. "Like… Top and bottom."
Every drop of blood in my body rockets straight to my face. My pen slips and draws a line across the page. That stupid online quiz flashes in my brain like a neon sign: Your Result: Bottom Energy
"You okay?" Sebastian asks, and fuck, he's watching me with those sharp eyes.
"Yeah. Yep. Great. You were saying?"
He looks suspicious, but continues. "A top is the person who's inserting during anal sex. A bottom is the receptive partner."
My face is actually on fire. This is how I die. In a study room, learning gay vocabulary, while my brain helpfully supplies images I really don't need right now. Seb has the smallest waist… my hands would almost go around him if I was holding… oh no.
"And then there's versatile or vers, which means—"
"Someone who does both, got it, moving on."
He blinks at my rushed words but keeps going. "There's also pillow princess—"
I burst out laughing, grateful for the topic change. "Oh, that one! I know that one!"
"You do?"
"Tyler's room is next to mine. The walls are thin. Let's just say Ethan's not exactly quiet and leave it at that."
Sebastian's choking on air. "I didn't need to know that."
"Hey, you're the teacher here. I'm just providing real-world examples."
"That's not—I don't—"
A knock on the door saves us both. "Yo, you done? We've got the room next."
We're both beet red as we scramble to pack up. Sebastian shoves his laptop in his bag while I grab my notes, and we practically fall over each other getting out.
In the hallway, we stand there awkwardly.
"So, um. Next time you tutor me?" Sebastian says. "Thursday night still work?"
"Yeah. Thursday," My voice comes out weird. "Psychology. Right."
"Right."
We're just standing there like idiots until he adjusts his bag and turns. "Later, Gavin."
"Yeah. Later."
I watch him walk away, that messenger bag bouncing against his hip, and it clicks in my brain, like puzzle pieces finally fitting together.
I'm attracted to the Doc.
I can't help it, but I take a quick look at his small body, and my eyes go to his ass. It's round and perfect. Yup, he's gorgeous.
Not just noticing he's cute, the way I noticed Ethan. This is different. This is wanting to know what his laugh sounds like first thing in the morning. Wanting to see if his hair is as soft as it looks. Wanting to find out if he'd fit perfectly under my arm the way I think he would.
Fuck.
My walk back to the frat is a blur. My brain's doing that thing where it rearranges everything now that I know something new. All those times I felt weird about couples, thought I was broken because I didn't get the fuss, maybe I was just looking at the wrong people.
Because Tyler and Ethan? When I saw them together, my chest went tight. I thought it was guilt for noticing how pretty Ethan was. But maybe it was envy. Not of Tyler for having Ethan, but of both of them. For having each other. Cause they know what they want.
And now there's Doc. Prickly, brilliant Doc, who made a PowerPoint about being gay, gets flustered talking about sex positions. Who's small enough that I want to pick him up and protect him from the world, but fierce enough that he'd probably knee me in the balls for suggesting he needs protection.
Brainy and tiny with a side of lashing out.
Yeah. That's definitely my type.
The frat house is chaos when I get back. Someone's blasting music, and there's a beer pong tournament happening in the dining room. Normal Tuesday night shit.
I head straight to my room and fall face-first onto my bed.
I'm gay. Or bi. Or something definitely not straight.
And I'm completely fucked, because I just developed a crush on my gay tutor who thinks I'm some clueless straight boy doing social experiments or looking to experiment in college.
This is fine. Everything is fine.
Everything is not fine.