“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 becauseI’ma 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. Theyoomphedin 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.”
Chapter twenty-five
Beseeging the Dick-Turrets
Cya
NervessloshedinsideCya’sgut as they opened their bedroom door and let Dex inside. He walked in and looked around, tail swishing lazily, nostrils flaring as he absorbed all the scents. As they leaned back on the door, hands cramping from their tight grip on the doorknob behind them, they watched the Lupyn take in their room for almost a full minute before he started moving.
He went to their desk first, dragging two fingers along its edge as he studied the miscellaneous jewelry supplies, makeup brushes, and their laptop cord. He touched each item reverently before he moved on to their dresser, then their vanity, then their ensuite bathroom.
Confused, they followed him, peering inside the bathroom to watch as he ran his fingers over their sink, touching their toothpaste, hairbrush, even their box of floss. His chest heaved, breath puffing out of him as he reached into the corner shower and grazed a fingertip over their shampoo and conditioner. He even grabbed their towel with both hands and kneaded it for several seconds before releasing it.
They wanted to ask what he was doing, but his brows were furrowed in concentration, like this odd ritual was important. So they quietly observed him as he returned to their bedroom and let his hands drift over the curtains before he cocked his head at the four-poster bed. He slid a hand down the two posts at the end, fingertips tapping over the footboard.
Spinning in a circle, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a rush, and whatever tension he’d been feeling evaporated. He turned to Cya and grinned proudly, like he’d accomplished something vital.
“You good?” they asked, and he nodded sheepishly but didn’t explain himself.
“I like your room,” he said, and his voice had taken on a bit of a rasp.
“Thank you.”
