More Than Meets the Eye #2
With every question and curiosity he voiced, the more animated Cya grew as they described how they prepared their stones as main pieces for their jewelry.
They showed him the tumblers and the machines that spun them, then they explained all about media, polishing agents, and the different abrasives they called grit.
“You can tumble different kinds of rocks together but only if they’re the same hardness.
If you mix hard and soft rocks, then the soft ones will break or get ground to dust,” they said as they inspected a small pile of shiny stone through a large magnifying glass.
“Even then, they can still scratch each other sometimes.”
Tugging on his arm, they directed him to study the magnified rock. “See this?” Their fingernail traced a small imperfection on the rock’s surface. “This could be a malformation in the rock itself, but it could have been caused by another rock in the tumbler.”
“Can you fix it?” he asked, and they shook their head.
“Not exactly. I’ll still put it through to the next phrase and hope it smooths out, but it also might crack all the way through. You don’t always know.”
He watched them sort through the pile, inspecting each one carefully before they moved to the next. “How come you don’t just buy the stones already shiny?”
“Well, where’s the fun in that?” With a wry smile, they knocked his shoulder with theirs. “I really enjoy the refining process, actually. It’s interesting and challenging. Each batch of stones is different, every rock unique.”
They led him to one of the shelving units and rose high on their tail to pilfer through the boxes on the top shelf.
When they teetered on compromised balance, Dex steadied them, hands on either side of their butt, and they shot him a chiding brow arch but didn’t condemn him further. So he didn’t move his hands.
Lowering back down, Cya faced him, a rock in each hand. “This is the same stone.”
In their right hand was a smooth, polished stone of cloudy white with veins and large splotches of deep green throughout. In their left hand, they held a rough, jagged chunk of grayish rock. They didn’t look at all alike.
“These are both moss agate,” they expounded, holding up the ugly one for him to see. “This is what it looks like normally, untouched by everything but nature. It’s dirty and sharp and even a bit ugly. No one would look twice at it or think it could be useful beyond thickening your driveway.”
They lowered their left hand and lifted their right. “This is what moss agate looks like at the end of the process. The sharp edges are smoothed out, the dirt washed away. Every rough crevasse has been polished until the design can finally be seen.
“It’s the same stone,” they repeated, cheeks flushed with passion.
“It only needed someone to look past the exterior to discover what’s inside.
Every stone is like that, its own unique beauty hiding under the layers built up to protect itself from the elements.
You never know what you’ll get until you reach the end. ”
A soft smile curled their lips as they gazed down at the rocks in their hands. “I think there’s something quite lovely about that. Even when we think that what we see is all there is, there’s usually more; we just have to look.”
“It’s beautiful,” Dex whispered, and Cya’s smile grew until their dimple carved into their cheek.
“Yes, moss agate is gorgeous. It’s one of my favorites.”
He hadn’t been talking about the rocks, but he didn’t bother clarifying. “That’s really cool how you know all this stuff.”
Cya ducked their head, cheeks darkening with a bashful blush.
The contrast between the brazen Sypent who’d sent him a recording of their orgasm and the shy, inexperienced person standing before him now was difficult to marry.
Cya’s surety and even their vanity were hot, but he liked their softness even more.
They wore confidence like armor, but with Dex, they trusted him enough to lay their shield and weapons down.
It made him feel special and important. It made him feel powerful and strong, like he could be their armor instead.
He’d protect their gooey center so they wouldn’t feel the need to hide it away anymore.
Turning away from him, they returned the moss agate to the shelves. “It’s probably a bit silly, getting excited about rocks—”
“It’s not,” he interjected, hooking them around the waist and pulling them in. “It’s awesome, and you’re awesome and talented and creative. It’s really cool hearing how passionate you are about it.”
They smacked his chest half-heartedly, even as their rattle shook happily. “Shut up.”
“Make me,” he challenged, and they clicked their tongue at him.
“You just want to make out,” they accused, and he shrugged.
“I mean, yeah, but—”
They shoved against his chest, and he released them with a chuckle. “How was the game?”
He followed them back to their work bench and propped his hip against it. “I mean, after my boner finally went away, I was able to play much better.”
Scrutinizing the last few rocks in the batch, Cya laughed at his expense. “I hope no one called security on you for indecent exposure.”
“If they had, I would have blamed you.” He poked their side, making them snort. “We won, by the way. Officially going to the play-offs.”
“Really? Congrats.” They pecked his cheek, and he wagged his tail. “Could I come watch you play sometime?”
His tail wagged harder. “You’d want to?”
“I mean, I don’t know much about dyscus, but yes, I’d like to see you play.” Their cheeks darkened anew. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
“I’d love for you to watch me play,” he admitted, and their dimple carved deeply into their cheek.
“Okay. Cool.”
Sidling up behind them, he tap-danced his fingers over their stomach as he rested his chin on their shoulder. “How was your day?”
They gestured to the pile of rocks. “Productive.”
“Oh? I bet the orgasms and sexy pictures you sent me helped with your productivity.”
“Oh my gods, stop!” They pinched his arm, making him yelp. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing. I loved it.” He nuzzled behind their ear, one hand gliding up until his fingertips teased the tattered hem of their crop top. “The voice note and the picture. Knowing that when I get home later, I’m gonna still smell you in my sheets. It was so sexy.”
Like they couldn’t decide whether to resist or melt into him, they swayed backward, then away. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously into you,” he crooned, and they leaned back into his chest a little more.
They fiddled with the rocks on the bench without really doing anything with them. “If you say so.”
“I do. Like, I want to be your boyfriend and junk,” he whispered into the nape of their neck, and Cya’s hands stilled.
The rock in their hand clattered across the work bench as they turned their head to meet his gaze over their shoulder. “You do?”
“Yeah, a lot.”
They spun around in his arms, hands coming to rest on his chest. “A lot, a lot?”
“A lot, a lot,” he confirmed, and they beamed at him.
“Okay,” they said with another pretty blush. “I’d like you to be my boyfriend.”
“Shweet,” he said, and they snickered. “What do I call you, though? My enbyfriend?”
They clasped their hands behind his neck. “Don’t be silly.”
“My theyfriend?”
They grimaced. “That sounds worse.”
“Society needs to come up with a gender-neutral option,” he said.
“You could call me your partner, if you like,” they suggested, and he rolled the word around his mouth.
“Hmm, partner. Yeah, okay.” A lightbulb pinged in his brain, and he grinned. “It sounds—and I mean this respectfully—it sounds kinda gay. Which is perfect because I’m a little gay! Right?”
Something complicated played across their face, and they smiled, even as their eyes went glassy. “Yeah, it is perfect.”
They cupped his face in their hands and kissed him, lips insistent. He pulled them closer until they were flush against him, kissing them back with just as much enthusiasm. He was out of breath by the time they broke the kiss.
“You’re so much more than meets than eye,” they said, thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
Their words were so beautiful they made his heart hurt, and he leaned in and pressed his forehead to theirs. “It’s okay. Maybe you just weren’t looking.”
Cya tilted their head, kissing him softly, a mere whisper against his lips. “I’m looking now.”
Well, shit, now Dex wanted to cry. His heart swelled, and his eyes burned, so he bundled them into his arms and tucked his face into the nape of their neck. They oomphed in surprise but hugged him back, rubbing a hand between his shoulders as another cradled the back of his head.
“Did I say something wrong?” they asked in concern, and he shook his head.
“No, you said a lot of things right. It just made me feel big feelings.”
“Oh. Okay.” They patted the back of his head awkwardly. “Um, there, there. It’s alright.”
Their poor attempt at comfort made him laugh. “Wow, you’re bad at that.”
“Well, it’s not my fault. Comfort and validation weren’t exactly priorities in my upbringing,” they grumbled as they continued to rub his back.
“You don’t say.”
“I’m doing my best!”
He angled his head to kiss their neck. “I know. Just keep hugging me. That’s enough.”
Tightening their arms around him, they held him more firmly, and even their tail joined in the embrace. It snaked up his right leg and squeezed rhythmically, and it was his turn to melt into them.
When he felt thoroughly comforted, he loosened his grip on their waist and lifted his head so he could kiss them. They smiled against his lips but kissed him back, and Dex sighed in contentment.
“Don’t worry,” he said against their mouth, “my big feelings won’t stop me from sexxing you up later. In fact, the feelings will make the sexxing even better, I promise.”
Instead of being so incredibly turned on like Dex intended, Cya threw their head back and laughed. “And people say romance is dead.”