Page 75 of Smart Ass

“Oh, uh, that makes sense.”

“You don’t like him?”

“Ummm… Listen, dude. It doesn’t matter if I like him or not. Your body should represent what you want it to look like.”

“I don’t know what I want to look like.”

This seemed to be stressing Max out, and damn did Ben understand that shit. When your body (or your not-body?) was all wrong, it was super stressful.

“Alright, um, I guess one thing that helped me when I was younger was looking for role models.” Not so much for body shape, but in developing his idea of what it meant to be a man.

It was Evan who’d actually suggested that to him, based on something he’d read online. They’d spent hours pouring over articles and interviews together.

Ben would never tell a soul that by eighth grade, he’d decided that Evan was one of his role models. It had been too embarrassing for words at the time, and he’d never let that level of shmarm slip now. Thank god middle school was all in the past.

Ben’s current role models were Doctor Who and Gonzo from the Muppets.

“Can you show me who you find attractive?” Max asked.

Ben shook his head. “Max, I’m serious about this. You can’t pick a body based on my preferences.”

“Why not? I want to please you.”

Ben squeezed his eyes shut. Now he really understood what Evan had gone through with Quincy. “Listen, Max. I get that you like me right now. But you don’t know anybody else. You haven’t made friends yet, or started your own career, or whatever it is you’re going to do or become over the next weeks and years.”

You’re going to leave me, he didn’t say, even though it hurt to think about it. This was too important for his own stupid feely-feels.

“Ben,” Max said urgently. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m looking forward to spending time together with your friends, but you’ll always be my first priority. And I think I’m well into my career right now. As we discussed previously, I have several projects and hobbies of my own and I expect to be a named author on our future joint publications.”

Ben kind of loved how Max got all formal and snooty when he was feeling defensive.

He wasn’t going to believe all that stuff about Max wanting him forever, though, even if it did make his chest feel all warm and too tight at the same time. Ben wasn’t that naive.

He’d literally programmed Max to amuse him, so the temporary obsession made sense. It wouldn’t take the spark long to realize that there were many other people who would find him just as sexy and amusing. Especially in a designer body.

Ben would be left in the dust.

“I think we’re getting off topic,” Ben said. Because avoidance, right? “Do you want to look at some models together?”

“Could you…?” Max paused to rethink his sentence, which was fascinating in itself. “I’d like to see some examples of Doms,” he pronounced carefully.

That sounded like a sneaky way of asking Ben who he was attracted to.

But since it would kind of prove Ben’s point, he was willing to go with it.

“Alright, man. Call up images of Huan Xu, Tiger Z, and Frankie Miller from my social media links.”

He knew what Max would find. Huan was a short, skinny trans Taiwanese dude with a big attitude and tattoos everywhere. Tiger had ebony skin and a shiny domed head with impressive-as-fuck arm muscles from working out and maneuvering his wheelchair. And Frankie was a proudly fat, white, fem man who enjoyed sparkly eyeshadow, colorful drinks with umbrellas, and whips.

“They’re all Doms?”

“Yup. They’re all Doms and friends of mine.” Not super close friends, but people he trusted enough to put him in positions that he couldn’t escape without a safeword.

Then again, he didn’t really have close friends except Evan and Max.

“Do you find them attractive?”

“Absolutely. Those are three hot Doms. I’ve subbed for all of them.” Did he want Max to be jealous? Maybe an itty-bitty bit.