Raw, Animal Magnetism
Chapter twenty
Cya
When Cya arrived at work the next morning at a quarter to six, Rusty was just hanging up the keys to the catering van he used to deliver the pastries to Greed. He looked, not just tired, but weary. It was more than lack of sleep; there was a heaviness to his movements, a sadness in his eyes.
Instead of greeting them, he said, “Toni’s out this week, and with Zef in Montana, I gotta help in the kitchen today once Dex gets here.”
“Oh. Is Toni ill as well?” They hung their purse on a coat hook, expounding further when Rusty cocked his head in confusion. “Dex said Jude was feeling under the weather yesterday.”
“Uh, yeah, something like that,” he said evasively. “You and Dex can hold down the fort out front, right?”
“Of course we can. I imagine Abi will need your assistance more than we do.”
“Yeah, hell of a week for—” Rusty scrubbed a hand through the shaggy fur between his ears. “Anyway, I haven’t gotten anything done out front. Sorry.”
“That’s alright. We can do it together.”
The day was stressful with Rusty and Abi, neither of whom were overly experienced in the kitchen, trying to keep up with breakfast and lunch orders as Dex and Cya manned every aspect of the front and dining area.
Everyone worked past their normal clock-out time, even Dex, to help out, and Cya had never been happier to leave Purgatory as they slogged through the teal sand toward the train station late that afternoon.
A few evening shifters had come in early to relieve them, and the three Mammylions, plus Cya, collapsed into four open seats in the station to await their trains.
“That blew chunks,” Dex said, propping his foot on his knee and massaging the rough pads.
“Yeah, that sucked,” Abi whispered, prehensile tail holding up his phone at eye level so he could check his notifications without lifting his arms.
“At least I didn’t start any fires this time,” Rusty mumbled wearily.
“Has that happened before?” Cya asked, and the Pyclon held up three mauve fingers. “Unholy shit.”
Dex gave Rusty an impressed nod. “Pyrotechnic.”
“Pyromaniac,” Cya corrected.
“They were all accidents,” Rusty growled.
“My pasyl had an arsonist,” Abi commented dryly, “but he only liked burning hair. Made our cave system stink something awful.”
Cya, Dex, and Rusty turned toward the Ophys, and Abi blinked his dark, filmy eyes, then he shrugged as if to say, “What’cha gonna do?”
“Pasyl?” Cya asked.
“Cave system?” Rusty asked.
“Um, out-of-pocket lore drop alert,” Dex said.
“My train’s here.” Abi stood and tucked his phone back into his pocket with his tail. “See y’all tomorrow.”
“Yve’s working extra this week,” Rusty said as he joined the Ophys. “Should be smoother sailing from here.”
Together, Rusty and Abi made their way to Platform L, and when the overhead speaker announced the train to Pride, Cya rose to head toward Platform P. When Dex didn’t, they hesitated.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“I’m heading home.” Dex pointed at the clock on the wall. “I skipped practice today to help out, so I don’t need to go to Pride.”
Disappointment sank to the bottom of their stomach. “Right. Of course.”
“You wanna come with me?” he asked, slinging his unused gym bag over his shoulder. “You did promise Jas that you’d come by more to practice HSL.”
“Okay,” they agreed far too quickly, and Dex’s ears perked up. “Hemersyn has vacation this week, so it’d be nice to not be alone in my museum house.”
At their vulnerable admission, the Lupyn’s expression softened. Not in pity—or at least, not only in pity—but in understanding. “You can come over every day, if you want to. I mean, I still have practice, so you’ll have to hang out with my sister until I get back, but you’re always welcome.”
“Always?” They knocked their shoulder against his as he fell into step beside them. “You’ll be sick of me before the week is out.”
He made a show of thinking it over. “Eh, nah. I don’t think so. You’re pretty alright.”
“Such high praise,” they muttered, making him laugh.
On the train to Gluttony, they sat side-by-side. Dex’s thigh pressed along the length of Cya’s tail, and under the guise of inspecting their bangles, he slipped several fingers between the metal and their skin. He was so warm, yet goosebumps pebbled their forearm where they made contact.
“Cold?” he asked, and they wobbled their shoulders noncommittally.
He took their hand in both of his and brought it to his mouth, and for a split second, they thought he was going to kiss their knuckles. Instead, he cupped their hand between his and blew warm breath over their fingers.
It was unnecessary and a little silly, yet their breathing stuttered all the same. Like he heard it, Dex made eye contact and held it as he exhaled again, and this time, his lips brushed their fingertips, fleeting and light, like the whisper of insect wings.
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said, his voice a rumbling thing that rolled through Cya’s body like an earthquake.
“O-okay,” they said, the word glitching halfway through.
With a satisfied smile, Dex lowered their hands to his leg and people-watched silently for the rest of the train ride. He didn’t let go of their hand, keeping it cradled between his palms, all while Cya fought the urge to hyperventilate.
Since he didn’t address the intimacy, neither did they.
They sat ramrod straight, heart tripping inside their chest as their rattle shivered and clicked under their seat.
At every subtle tick of their tail, Dex’s placid smile twitched, like he knew exactly what he was doing to them and was enjoying himself.
When they transferred from the train to a tram, Dex released their hand, and even though it was the middle of summer, Cya somehow felt colder without him.
The tram was busy with end of day commuters, and they had to stand in the aisle, fingers clasping the grip bar above their head.
Behind them, Dex whistled under his breath, his chest brushing their back with every sway of the tram.
At a particularly hard jolt, Cya wobbled on compromised balance, and a furry arm wrapped around their waist to steady them.
It was solid and hot, burning them through their sundress, and even after the tram settled, the arm remained.
Dex continued whistling casually, hand cupping the curve of their side, and Cya did their best not to slump back against him.
Were they really this touch-starved? It was entirely ridiculous that a simple arm around their waist made them want to melt into a coil on the floor.
When they departed the tram, Dex’s street was teeming with people enjoying the nice weather.
Kids played in the streets, and adults sat on their front balconies and patios, chatting amicably with each other.
Groups of Hellians from various species stood around with various drinks, speaking a mix of dialects Cya didn’t understand.
Everyone seemed to know Dex, and Dex, of course, knew everyone. They greeted each other and shook hands, making brief small talk, but every time, without fail, he’d tug Cya into the conversation with a, “This is Cya, by the way.”
He spoke with such pride, like they were special, like they were someone worth knowing.
Yet, it didn’t feel performative like it had with their parents or with Kent.
In those moments, Cya had been a prize, a trophy, an accomplishment to brag about.
But with Dex, it wasn’t hubris. He wasn’t proud of himself for knowing them; he was simply proud to know them, because they were worthy of it.
As they approached his building, Cya used the excuse of the crowded sidewalk to shift closer to the Lupyn.
They tentatively curled their fingers around the crook of his elbow, and his head spun in their direction, heterochromatic eyes wide in surprise.
Because this was the first time they’d truly initiated contact, wasn’t it?
He glanced down at their hand, then back to their face, and they offered him a cautious smile.
His responding grin was bright as the sun, and it filled them with warmth in the same way.
Chest puffing, he guided their hand to grip his arm more securely, and they swore he flexed, his biceps swelling firmly under their touch.
Before they could roll their eyes at his grandstanding, a furry body crashed into them, nearly knocking them over. Dex caught them, hands framing their hips to steady them as Jasmyn squeezed Cya around their waist, rumbling happily against their chest.
“Oh, hello,” they said as they rubbed Jasmyn’s shoulder awkwardly. “What a warm welcome.”
Jasmyn pulled away, her hands already moving a mile a minute, but when Cya lifted their palms to stop her, she paused, then she repeated her signs slowly, “You came to practice?”
Cya rubbed their wrists together, and her tail swished excitedly.
Signing with one hand, she took Cya’s in her other and hauled them up toward the building.
She continued signing one-handed, but Cya missed most of her words as they split their attention between her and the uneven sidewalk to ensure they didn’t trip.
“I’m not selfish,” Dex muttered from beside and slightly behind them.
“What?” they asked over their shoulder.
Dex made a face at the back of Jasmyn’s head. “She said that I’m not allowed to be selfish with you because you’re her friend too.”
For some reason, Jasmyn wanting them to be her friend made their insides melt even more, turning everything squishy and gooey. “Oh, that’s sweet.”
When Jasmyn turned around, Dex waggled his tongue at her, voicing and signing simultaneously. “They were still my friend first.”
She stuck her tongue out too, using a sign Cya didn’t recognize.
“I swear, the mouth on this one.” Dex shook his head in disappointment.
“The hands, you mean,” Cya corrected, signing clumsily, and Jasmyn snorted.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have introduced you two,” Dex grumbled as they arrived at the front steps of his building. “You’re gonna teach her bad habits.”