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Charlie nodded.

“But that’s all really different than us having sex where we’re both physically connected at the same time, getting off at the same time. There’s timing and expectation that we want compatible things at the same moment. It’s a lot. Especially if you don’t know what to expect.”

Charlie’s heart was pounding, but not from nerves. This...this made sense.

“Yeah, I...yeah.”

“‘S why I brought that notepad in,” Rye said. “I was gonna kinda make a list of stuff that turned you on and stuff that didn’t and see if you wanted to try some of it.”

“And you’re not...disappointed? I mean, you don’t think I’m...?”

Charlie clamped his mouth shut on the torrent of remonstrances that accompanied these thoughts whenever they slipped in. Self-accusations that something was wrong with him; that he wasn’t living up to an ideal he’d internalized.

Rye lifted his head up so he could look at Charlie.

“It seems like you’ve got some shame around what you think you’re supposed to do and be, as a, like, strapping construction man, or whatever, and it’s making you veer into pretty judgmental territory. Not wanting to have penetrative sex doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

His expression was serious, his tone severe.

“Masculinity isn’t tied to, like, jackhammer cock drilling people or whatever.”

The phrase startled a laugh out of Charlie.

“Jackhammer cock drilling?”

Rye huffed.

“You know what I mean. There are trans men and ace men and men who only like to get fucked and men who like it gentle, and people who are into pegging, and a million other things. I get that you’ve maybe only seen, like, porn where jacked cis dudes fuck each other, but that’s only one way to have sex.”

“I know that,” Charlie muttered.

But he was embarrassed to realize that that was what he’d thought Rye might want from him. After all, he was big and muscular and generally powerful. So it stood to reason that Rye would look at him and...

He stopped himself again. No. Not reason. Stereotype.

“Maybe you think you know,” Rye said. “But your fears clearly don’t know.”

“No,” Charlie admitted. “You’re right. I kinda did think that’s what was...expected of me, I guess.”

“Well, expectations are bullshit. Fuck expectations.”

Charlie stroked Rye’s hair. Fuck expectations. He could get behind that.

“So do you wanna make that list?”

Rye sat up.

“Yeah?”

Charlie nodded. It was harder when Rye was looking at him.

Fuck expectations.

“Can you, um, not look at me, though? While we...”

Rye grabbed the notebook and pen off the bedside table, then settled down on his side, facing away from Charlie.

“Okay,” Rye said. “You can go with a Yes-No-Maybe, or a 1–10 interest level scale, or just general thoughts. Whatever.”

“Are these all gonna be things you like?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because!” Rye said. “The whole point is figuring out what you might like. Fuck expectations, remember?”

Charlie let himself pout just a little, since Rye couldn’t see him.

“Fine.”

Rye snorted and reached back to pat his leg.

“Okay. Me sucking your dick.”

Charlie swallowed hard.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t answer so fast. Just think for a minute. Imagine me between your legs. Imagine me licking you, sucking you. Picture it. See how it makes you feel.”

Charlie imagined Rye looking up at him, those extraordinary eyes locked on him. Seeing everything.

“I...maybe...maybe too much.”

“Okay. What if you were blindfolded?”

Charlie gulped.

“What if I was blindfolded.”

He could imagine it. Reaching down to stroke Rye’s hair, touch the place where Rye’s mouth opened around him, without being observed.

“I... Yeah, that’s better.”

“Okay. You fingering my ass.”

That sent a pulse of interest to Charlie’s cock.

“I think, yeah.”

“You fucking my ass with your cock.”

So close together, so intimate, so scary.

“I’m not sure.”

“Be honest, baby.”

“I’m... I... I don’t think I want to.”

“Okay. You fucking my ass with a dildo until I come.”

Charlie was instantly hard.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, heart thudding.

“Okay. Me fucking your ass with my cock.”

Scary scary scary scary.

“N-no I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Me, blindfolded, fingering your ass.”

Charlie tried to picture it. He’d never touched himself there. Never really considered it. But it didn’t scare him. Not if Rye couldn’t see what it did to him.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Me, blindfolded, fucking your ass with a dildo.”

“M-maybe.”

“Okay. Kissing for an hour.”

Charlie’s heart fluttered.

“Yes. Definitely yes.”

“Okay. Taking a shower together, naked.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. Kissing and touching each other in the shower.”

“Yeah that’s okay.”

“Okay. Touching ourselves at the same time.”

Charlie imagined Rye watching him jerk off and felt the same recoiling.

“C-can I just watch you?”

“Okay. Me, blindfolded, and us getting off sitting next to each other.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. Can I look at you now?”

Charlie started. “Is that...all?”

“It’s not a comprehensive list of every sex act possible, no. But I think it’s a good start. Is there something else you want me to ask about?”

Charlie blanked.

“No, I... No.”

“Can I turn around?”

“Yeah.”

Rye rolled over to face him. His cheeks were a little flushed but he looked serious.

“So,” Rye said.

“So,” Charlie answered, looking anywhere but at Rye.

But he couldn’t escape hearing what he had to say.

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