Chapter 9
Rafe
Asexual.
The word is so foreign, yet it holds a significance I never would have imagined one word could hold.
Ever since Cam mentioned it, I’ve been doing some research.
Now my head is swimming with all the information.
It’s never occurred to me before that love and sex could be completely separate things. Sure, I have a few friends who are queer, but as far as I know, none of them have this problem.
I shake my head, reminding myself of something I read. This isn’t a problem. I’m not broken or defective. Sex has always been a tricky thing to talk about. For some reason, you’re expected to want it but keep quiet about wanting it.
So for the people who aren’t interested in it at all, it’s been made into this dirty little secret. It’s no surprise all this time I thought something was wrong with me.
Then, I’m pretty sure I’m aromantic to top it all off.
The whole thing is confusing. I’ve never experienced love, which kinda sucks because I want to know what it’s like …
but then I think of Cam. Of sitting close and confiding in him things I’ve never said out loud before. Aromantic fits … until I think of him.
I don’t know if it’s love; all I know is Cam has always been special. Different. Has always invoked out-of-the-box emotion I’ve never associated with anyone else.
Not even Laura. I feel guilty thinking of those years we wasted trying to make something impossible work. But even if I’m something like demiromantic, if I couldn’t love her after a decade, it was never going to happen.
It makes me sad for us and what could have been.
I’m also curious how things would have gone between us if I’d had the words to explain what I was going through, but I have a suspicion that no matter what, we were always better off as friends.
So, yeah, I’m comfortable with the aromantic label.
The sex part is more confusing.
It’s not that I don’t have a sex drive, because I jerk off a lot. I just … have zero need to have sex with other people.
When Laura and I were together, it was fine, I guess. It felt good and I got off, but if we had never had sex in the whole time we were together, I wouldn’t have missed it.
And then there’s the handful of random boners I’ve popped around Cam.
That’s why it’s still so confusing.
Demiromantic and graysexual are probably the closest I’ve found to describe myself, but I’m not ready to settle on any one label.
I sigh and push my laptop off my stomach. It’s getting late, and my brain is wrung out with everything that’s happened today, so I change into my sleep shorts, then grab my toothpaste and duck out into the hall.
There’s light coming from Cam’s room, and the thought of him moving around in there makes me warm. It’s hard to believe we had a serious conversation about anything—let alone my sexuality—and that when he said no judgment, he actually meant it.
It was hard to talk, but he didn’t make me feel scrutinized once.
I consider tapping on his door and saying it. I’m asexual. Telling him he was right and thank you. He was there for me again, like he always was when we were little.
Instead, I make my way to the bathroom.
The room is way too bright when I flick on the light, and I squint against the burn to my pupils as I cross to the sink. I go in hunt of Cam’s toothpaste since I didn’t bring my own, and after checking the cabinet, I slide open one of the drawers.
And freeze.
An assortment of sex toys is staring back at me.
There’s a bottle of lube and a Fleshlight with a suction cap on one end, along with a bunch of other things underneath. Even though I’m staring, my brain isn’t ready to take in what it sees.
“You know, some people would find that an invasion of privacy.”
“Shit.” I quickly slam the drawer closed and turn to find Cam watching me from the doorway. He’s shirtless, arms folded as he leans against the doorframe. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I was looking for toothpaste.”
“I said some people. Me? I’m proud of my collection.” Smirking, he steps around me, opens a drawer on the other side of the cabinet, and hands over the tube.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. They’re just toys.”
No matter what he says, I’m still feeling awkward. We brush our teeth, standing side by side.
He spits and then leans against the cabinet, watching me. “Why are you acting like you’ve never seen a sex toy in your life?”
“Because I haven’t.”
“What about when we were thirteen and went into that adult shop for a joke?”
I’d forgotten about that. A laugh slips from me at the memory. “We’d barely stepped foot inside when the guy behind the counter kicked us out. There was no time to see anything.”
“Really? Man, I got an eyeful. It was great.”
“And maybe that’s why of the two of us, you ended up the deviant.”
“Nothing wrong with having sex.” He shoots me a look. “Nothing wrong with not having it either.”
I nod and rinse out my mouth. “I’m starting to see that. Thanks, by the way. I’ve never heard of asexuality before, but … I think it might be close.”
I’m not expecting him to smile. “That’s acesome.”
“Oh no.”
“What? I’m being supportive.”
“Through puns?”
“Puns suit every occasion.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Hey, tell me something.” Cam opens the drawer of toys again. “You said you like getting yourself off—”
“Really regretting giving you that information—”
“But you’ve never tried a sex toy?”
I shake my head. “As if I’d want Laura catching me with one of those things. Besides, my hand works fine.”
Cam hums, then lifts the Fleshlight. “A hand is good, but these are better. And if you’re after some real fun …” He reaches into the drawer again and pulls out a dildo. “These are a game changer.”
My eyes lock on the enormous, veiny, flesh-colored dick. “That looks painful.”
He cracks up laughing. “Don’t worry, this is the expert level. You’d start with something smaller.”
“Or not at all.” But I still haven’t looked away.
It’s occurring to me for the first time that if Laura and I go ahead with this breakup, I’ll have the first bit of privacy in …
well, maybe ever. I moved straight from my childhood home into the place with her, and since Laura works at home, she’s always there.
Whenever I jerk off, it’s usually a quick one in the shower.
I’ve never had the time or privacy to even think about messing around with toys.
“You’re thinking about it …” Cam taunts.
I peer back at the drawer. “I’m thinking about why one person needs so many toys.”
“Depends what I’m in the mood for. Sometimes one, sometimes both at the same time. The cock ring is great for edging yourself.”
“And that’s all I need to know.”
“What?” He blinks at me in a way I’m sure is supposed to look innocent, but his smile—and the giant dildo he’s still holding—ruin the effect.
“Dear God, can you put that down?”
“What, this?” He waves it in my face. “Does cock make you uncomfortable, Rafe?”
I bat his hand away. “I don’t even want to think about where that thing has been.”
“You might be a sweet lil ace-baby, but you’re not naive. You know where it’s been. Don’t worry though, it’s clean.”
“There is no amount of disinfectant you could put on that thing to make me touch it.”
“Eww, you think I’d want your germs on it? No. I’m talking about buying your own.” He finally puts the giant cock back in its home.
“This is right up there with the weirdest conversations I’ve ever had.”
“What’s weird about it? That we’re two guys talking about sex and giving each other tips?”
“I never gave you tips.”
“Look, I’m just saying if masturbation is your thing, you might as well get as much enjoyment out of it as possible. You don’t have to be having sex with another person to make it worth your while.”
I rub my temple. “If—and I’m not saying I will—but if I ever chose to do something like that, you’d be the last person I told.”
He groans. “Ah! My heart! There’s nothing wrong with talking about sex. Maybe if more people did it, you would have found this out about yourself a long time ago.”
“You know, I was thinking the same thing.”