Chapter twenty-one
Unholy Fucking Shitballs
Dex
So,whatarewe?
Dex stared at the words on his screen, the light blinding in the dark of his bedroom. His thumb hovered over the Send button, but he couldn’t bring himself to press it. He deleted the text and tried again.
Wanna go on a date? No pressure or anything. It’s cool if—
With a groan, he didn’t even try to finish that thought. It was too pathetic. He had to be more confident. Confidence was sexy, right?
I like you, and I think we should make out.
No, that wasn’t right either.
So… nudes?
“C’mon, Dex, you’re better than that,” he berated himself as he deleted yet another attempt at a text intended for Cya.
Dropping his phone to his chest, he stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows of branches dance as he let his mind wander. He thought of Cya’s silky skin, smooth and soft under his fingers. And the rapid sprint of their heart, and the hitch to their breathing every time he nuzzled the skinbehind the ear. And the way they melted into him when he ran his fingers through their long, satin hair.
They’d come over every day this week after work. While he was at practice, they hung out with Jasmyn and his mom. Then he’d come home, and they’d eat dinner together before they played a game or watched a movie. He preferred the movie because it meant they could cuddle on the couch without it feeling like a big deal or making things weird.
Tonight, though, Jasmyn had insisted on a game. According to her, she couldn’t sit through another movie surrounded by Dex and Cya’s unresolved sexual tension. The fact his kid sister knew what sexual tension was made him queasy, but it wasn’t like she was wrong.
There was sexual tension, and it was wholly unresolved. It didn’t matter how many times Dex beat off to relieve himself, he was constantly on the cusp of popping wood anytime he smelled Cya’s herby, incense perfume. Which was practically all the time now.
Their scent had soaked into the couch and the carpet and the walls. Several of his shirts carried their ghost, and he was rather ashamed to admit that he’d jerked off last night with one of those shirts pressed to his nose. He’d come harder than he had in ages, and he’d stupidly used the same shirt to clean up after, essentially mixing their scents together, along with the spicy aroma of sex.
Yeah, he’d immediately needed to jack off again. Which he’d done. Into the same shirt. Ugh, maybe that’s what he should text Cya.
Hey, hope you don’t mind, but I nutted to the scent of you twice last night. Wanna date me?
Normally, he didn’t question himself this much. If he liked someone, he would shoot his shot because the worst that could happen was them saying no. But this felt different. Cya was different.
They were clearly into him; their scent didn’t lie, but even though they low-key held hands and snuggled on the couch every night, Cya never initiated anything more. Every time Jasmyn—the unintentional buffer—left the room, leaving them alone with Dex, they’d freeze up, and their delicious scent would turn frosty with anxiety. Every time he walked them to the tram stop, they locked up with nerves, which made his own doubt build. So they’d stand at the tram stop, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as he struggled to find a way to nonchalantly ask if they wanted to suck face.
Needless to say, he had yet to find an appropriate way to broach the subject, so no face-sucking had taken place, much to his disappointment. He really wanted to kiss them. He wanted to find out what they tasted like. He wanted to map their body and discover every secret place that made them gasp and shudder and moan.
And now he was hard again. Fuck his life.
Thenextmorning,Toniwalked into the cafe a little after ten, and Dex, Cya, and Rusty all stopped what they were doing. The Elas looked like he’d aged exponentially in just the few days since Dex had seen him last. His face was drawn, his complexion pale, and his black eyes, which were normally bright with mischief, were empty pits. He wore sadness like a shroud, and it stung Dex’s nose, even from across the room.
“Hey, Toni,” Dex said, and the Elas lifted a half-hearted hand in greeting.
“You’re back,” Cya said.
Toni shook his head absently. “Uh, no. Not yet. I just gotta…” He gestured down the hall to Quin’s office.
“Oh,” Dex and Cya said at the same time.
Before Toni could disappear down the hall, Rusty abandoned the tray on the table he was clearing and headed him off. He didn’t block the Elas’s path completely, but Toni still stopped, frowning down at the Pyclon in confusion.
Rusty opened his mouth, but no words escaped. He just stared sadly up at the taller man. Toni stared back, shoulders slumped like he was slowly being crushed under a boulder.
With a quiet chitter, Rusty reached out and brushed two knuckles over the back of Toni’s hand. It was quick; a blink, and Dex would have missed it. Toni’s hand twitched, as if he was contemplating pulling away, and Rusty’s tail lowered to tuck between his legs, his ears flattening.
