“I can’t believe,” I gasp between chuckles, “you did that.”
Their head pops up above the bed. “I probably shouldn’t have.”
“It was fecking genius!” I roll over so I’m on my front. “Although it would have looked better with some eye-popping make-up on and a fuck-ton of body glitter.”
Loncey’s eyes slowly widen. “You think?”
“Iknow,” I say. “You may be an expert in sex, but I am an expert in make-up, beauty and the finer things in life, like body glitter.”
Loncey’s gaze drops to an indeterminable point on the bed. “I would like to have a MaeBae makeover one day.”
“Really?” I ask. And I don’t think they know that I’m not asking them about the makeover. I’m asking them about us seeing each other again in the future. Doing more of what thisevening has been: the painting, the kissing, the dressing up, the dancing, the most fun I’ve had in years.
“For sure,” they say as they get up and it feels like that although that comment fills me with joy and hope and other light and airy things, their movement stops that conversation, so I too fold my body up so I’m sitting on their bed.
“Come on, let’s sleep,” they say. “Which side do you want?”
“Which side is yours?”
They shrug. “I don’t have one. I alternate.”
My jaw drops. “You animal.”
That gets me a smile and it feels like a win.
Thirty minutes later, I’m showered. I spent much of my time in Loncey’s tiny cubicle watching the paint washing down the drain and feeling a little sad but also a bit happy. It was like I was already feeling nostalgic for a moment that only just happened. When I emerge from their bathroom, we each choose the negligee we’re going to sleep in, and then we take turns in Loncey’s tiny bathroom for skincare and teeth brushing. We plug our phones in to charge on the countertop opposite the bed, and then we climb into bed together, silk bonnets on both our heads.
I don’t know who rolls over first but we end up on our sides, facing each other.
“I haven’t shared a bed with someone else in a long time. Even Arabella sleeps in the spare room at my place when she stays,” I admit.
“Me neither,” they say, their eyelids already looking heavy.
“Ah come on, now, don’t bullshit me!”
“I’m not. It’s the truth. I haven’t shared a bed with someone in months, if not years. Even with Miko and Harley, I always opted to sleep alone.”
“So… am I the first person to sleep over in this bed? In your cabin?”
“Yes, you are,” Loncey says.
I let myself enjoy the rush of warmth this prompts as Loncey’s eyes droop further.
“When did you… when did you know you were polyamorous?” I ask tentatively.
Loncey takes some time to answer, their lips rolling in and out of their mouth. “I guess when I met them.”
I expect more words and I could swear I can even see the shape of some of those words in Loncey’s expressive eyes, but they fall silent.
I don’t know why but I push them a little more.
“Like aromantic?”
There is another pause before they answer but this one is filled with a twisted smile, one that seems to lack joy. “When I broke up with them.”
I nibble on my top lip as Loncey yawns.
“You should sleep,” I say.
