Because for the first time in their life, they’d sucked a dick. Dex’s dick! And they’d liked it. A lot. They’d liked it so much that they’d literally lost connection to their brain and acted a complete fool. And now, they couldn’t stop freaking out, which was so stupid and juvenile and immature.
Normal people didn’t have panic attacks because of a blowjob. Why couldn’t they just be normal, for one godsdamned second?
Hugging Dex’s pillow to their chest, they buried their face in it and breathed slowly. They didn’t fully understand the panic ricocheting around in their chest cavity. It was linked to embarrassment, yes. The way they’d thrown themself at him, desperate and pathetic. It was humiliating.
But the fear ran deeper than their insecurities about being an incompetent twenty-one year old virgin who’d just bumbled their way through the sloppiest blowjob known to Hellia. Because now they had to tell Dex about the rest. He deserved to know, especially if he, for some insane reason, wanted a repeat of what happened in the kitchen.
He had to know everything, and once he did, he might not want them anymore. Kent certainly hadn’t, though they could admit he was a scumbag, so no surprise he’d acted like one. But still, the fear was visceral and so very real.
At least they’d stayed. They’d wanted to run, and it had taken every ounce of courage for them not to. But how could they, when Dex had asked them—no, begged them—to stay?
“I need a minute,” they’d said after deciding not to flee. “There’s a lot I need to tell you, but I just really need a minute first.”
“Okay, that’s fine. You can have all the minutes.” Dex had said as he straightened his shorts and scrubbed a hand between his ears.
The sound of a hairdryer starting reminded them both of the presence of a minor in the house, and Cya’s stomach clenched with nausea. They’d been so irresponsible. Jasmyn could have come out and seen them.
“Oh my gods, Jasmyn.” Cya hid their face in their hands, and it was hard to breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not,” Dex said, and their head jerked up in shock. He looked a little lost and more than a little bamboozled by the events of the past few minutes, but his gaze was steady. “I’m not sorry.”
A sliver of warmth infiltrated their guilt and shame, but it wasn’t enough to win. Without them having to explain, he seemed to understand, and he pointed them toward his room, promising to keep Jasmyn from bothering them. Perhaps it was cowardly, leaving him to face his sister alone, but they only had so much bravery, so they went.
Which had brought them to this moment, curled up as tightly as possible in the corner, surrounded by Dex in all but body. They’d listened to the clink of dishes as he’d cleaned the kitchen up alone. Jasmyn had returned, but they obviously didn’t know what was said between them. It had been eerily quiet for a while now.
They swallowed and grimaced at the taste. They really should have asked for some mouthwash, though that required acknowledgingwhythey needed mouthwash, and they weren’t ready for that humiliation. Not that they had minded the taste in the moment. Honestly, they’d been too far gone to care. Everything had been so hot and wet and exhilarating, and they’d been lost to the euphoria of the whole thing.
His fingers in their hair, and his rumbling moans of pleasure. They way he’d said their name and called thembaby. Knowing he was hard because of them, moaning because of them, coming because of them. Yes, they’d liked that a lot. They already yearned to do it again.
A knock sounded at the door, and Cya’s gleeful smile evaporated. They sat up straighter, squeezing Dex’s pillow until they feared it’d pop as the door creaked open. The Lupyn peeked around the wood, scanning the room until he spotted them in the corner.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“It’s your room,” they said, and he rolled his heterochromatic eyes.
“Good to know you’re still a smartass.”
Their mouth twitched with amusement, but it faded quickly as their earlier embarrassment returned tenfold. He shut the door behind him, and the room immediately felt smaller. Or he felt bigger in this tiny space; he’d always been larger than life.
Like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, Dex spun in a slow circle before he planted himself against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest, tail flicking anxiously behind him. He watched them, studying them closely like they were one of his math equations, and if only he knew the right variables, he could solve them.
If only it was that easy.
“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really understand what’s happening,” he admitted, almost apologetically, “but I want to. Can you explain it to me?”
Deities, Cya could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve this boy. Which only doubled their guilt.
“I know I’m being ridiculous. I’m sorry.”
“Can we maybe agree that, for the duration of this conversation, you stop apologizing?” he interjected, and they ducked their head. “Unless you actually did something wrong that requires an apology, that is. But in my mind, there’s nothing to apologize for.”
They nodded and picked at the sharp points of the hunlet feathers poking through the pillowcase. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Is there anything I need to apologize for?” he asked, and they shook their head.
They couldn’t bear the guilt on his face, and their eyes burned with fresh tears. “No. You did nothing wrong, I promise. I’m just really embarrassed.”
His molars ground together, but Cya didn’t have the guts to lift their gaze from the pillow to gauge his reaction. Eventually, he said, “Why?”
