Page 7 of His for Hanukkah

He doubted that Adam had noticed any of it.

Tate shifted his leg slightly so it wouldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t expect that they’d be getting up any time soon, not when Adam’s fist was curled around the fabric of his shirt and his soft breath was dancing across his neck. He would happily sit here all day.

Tate twisted his head to look his boy over. His eyeliner was beautifully smudged around his reddened eyes, and his shimmery silver shirt was damp with sweat and tears.

He felt a little guilty that he got so turned on by the tear tracks streaking down Adam’s face, strangely satisfied that they’d been released just for him.

He didn’t feel guilty at all that he got off on that beautiful blend of masculine and feminine. He could hardly believe he was lucky enough to have all of this in his arms.

Tate had always known he was attracted to a range of genders. He’d first identified as a bisexual woman, then a pansexual butch dyke.

But honestly, the gender expression that most set his heart racing and stopped him in his tracks was feminine boys. There was something about those delicious muscles covered in shimmery, lacy fabrics. Intriguing eyeliner and delicate earrings contrasting with rough jaws. Delicate belts over square hips and satiny briefs over bulging packages.

Add in Adam’s adorable blush and downcast eyes, and he was sold. Even when Tate and Adam had both been with their exes, he’d known that Adam checked all his boxes.

The frustrating part was that, at least in his experience, those sweet feminine boys didn’t usually go for pansexual dykes.

When Tate had transitioned, he’d definitely done it for himself. He’d always felt like a man, and he needed his body to match his mind. Taking T for the past three and a half years and getting top surgery had given him an image that made him want to smile at himself in the mirror.

But a part of him had been a little hopeful that he’d be able to attract pretty boys like Adam, too. Or, more accurately, Adam himself.

He’d been devastated when Adam had started acting all awkward around him when he got back into town. He’d been sure that Adam was on his “side” when he transitioned and Caroline dumped him.

Digging back through his memories, he’d felt sure that Adam supported his gender identity, certain that he’d said words to that effect. But apparently it had been different in actuality.

Or maybe different when he had been actually flirting with him. A lot of people supported trans men as friends but didn’t want to date them.

What he couldn’t figure out was why it had changed today.

Was Adam just at the end of his rope and he happened to be nearby and safe enough when it happened? Or was there some actual interest beyond that?

Adam nuzzling into his shoulder suggested at least some interest. The way he’d gasped and gone boneless when he whispered dirty things seemed even more promising.

But relationships worked differently in the kink community, where you could meet up with someone for a few hours of play more intense and vulnerable than most vanilla couples experienced in their lifetimes, and then do it again with someone else the next night.

Adam’s body tensed up again as he mumbled something.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

It was funny how Adam’s thoughts had echoed his own. He felt the warmth of possibility growing in his chest, even though he was still genuinely baffled. “Adam, what part of flirting with you and trying to spend time with you indicated that I didn’t like you?”

“You didn’t want to do a scene with me.” Pouty Adam was adorable, and Tate could see himself spoiling him based on just that look.

But what on earth was he talking about? Adam had never seemed like he was easily confused or the sort of person to gaslight someone. “I have to admit I’m a little confused. I asked you twice if you wanted to scene with me. It looked like I was making you uncomfortable, so I stopped asking.”

Adam huffed out a breath. “Tate, you know that I get all nervous and freeze up when hot Doms talk to me.”

Being classified as a “hot Dom” melted away some of the anxiety that Tate didn’t realize he’d still been holding. It was a nice boost to his ego, which could honestly use some support after transitioning. Whatever was going on, it didn’t seem to be because he was trans.

Could it really be because Adam thought he was attractive? “Actually, I didn’t know that about you. Most of the time we knew each other we were dating other people, and I thought that we were friends. After you and Jacob broke up, I saw you scene with a few other people. I mean, we don’t know each other well, but I still thought we were friends who could talk with each other.”

Adam rolled his eyes, which would definitely earn a punishment later if things went the way Tate hoped they were going. “Yeah, but you weren’t hot and available before.”

Tate burst out laughing. Adam’s accusing eyes and dramatic delivery were just too much. He’d never been this bratty and expressive when Tate saw him with Jacob all those years ago, and Tate couldn’t get enough of it. “Alright, baby, so since I made the mistake of being hot and available, what else did I get wrong?”

“You didn’t want to play with me.”