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“That doesn’t mean it isn’t,” Felix told him. He waited a beat, then shoved his chopsticks into the rice box and set it aside. “I wasn’t trying to impress you with my order.”
Dmitri hadn’t even considered he might have had an ulterior motive for his food order, but maybe he should have. “Okay.”
“My ex-boyfriend’s parents ran a Chinese restaurant, and we always went to the Sunday dim sum service.” He picked at the edge of his shoe where some of the leather was frayed, and he didn’t look up. “We dated most of high school, and they didn’t love that he was gay, but they liked that he dated a white guy even less.”
Dmitri had to wonder if he was looking for some sort of absolution—or maybe validation. Or maybe he just had a hard-on for Asian dudes, and that wouldn’t be the first time Dmitri had been asked out by a tourist simply because he existed in his own body.
“He got into Cambridge though, so we broke up because it was stupid to do something long distance. He wanted to work in London when he was finished.”
“Do I remind you of him?” Dmitri asked, because he had to.
Felix looked up with a grin, then laughed. “No. He was funny, but like class-clown kind of funny. Your humor cuts a little bit.”
Dmitri wondered when he had tried to be funny at all, but he came up blank.
“He had blond highlights our last two years of high school, but they were a fucking travesty because we did them ourselves when his parents were out for date night.” Felix went quiet for a long moment. “He’s probably going to marry a woman and have kids and then secretly fuck some of his students in supply closets.” His voice was bitter, but not angry, so it was a nice change of pace from Dmitri’s own internal monologue. “Can I give you a birthday present?”
Dmitri blinked, trying to fend off whiplash from the subject change, and he cleared his throat. “I guess it depends on what it is.”
“A blowjob,” Felix said like he was offering him a shiny pebble or maybe a piece of leftover cake.
To his credit, Dmitri didn’t panic or choke on his own tongue or make up some bullshit excuse to say no. Instead, he let Felix lead him to the backseat, and then kiss him with too much tongue that tasted like chili sauce and burned a little as he ran the tip around his gums. It was the weirdest kiss Dmitri had ever felt, and he fixated on the sensations instead of letting it feel good, which was probably why Felix let out a curious noise when he palmed Dmitri’s crotch and found him soft.
“I…sorry,” Dmitri breathed out, then cleared his throat. His stomach clenched, because he wanted to want this, but it was like there was a blank wall between him and sex, and he couldn’t find a way to break through it. “Sometimes I, um…”
“No, I get it,” Felix said. “I’m new, and you’re nervous.” He wasn’t deterred. He pushed the button through the hole and dragged the zipper down in an exaggerated motion, then pushed the slit in Dmitri’s boxers aside and took out his limp dick.
He didn’t know if he was small compared to others. He knew the stereotypes, and he had a feeling Felix was measuring him more than he was trying to get him hard with the way he kind of palmed him and spread his fingers. Then his thumb pressed into the slit, pushing his foreskin down just a little. He shifted again, slipping out of the car and onto his knees in the dirt. Dmitri peered between his spread legs and his breath caught in his chest as Felix’s mouth opened, breathed hot over him, then engulfed him in a long, slow glide.
He closed his eyes, and he waited, but nothing happened. It was just hot, and it was wet, and sloppy. Part of him wanted to kick Felix back and blame him. To save face and say that the blowjob was just terrible, but he knew better. He was twenty. A stiff breeze should be getting him hard enough he could come. There was no hiding the truth now.
“Are you impotent?” Felix demanded, pulling away with something like fury in his eyes.
Dmitri swallowed thickly, and then he reached deep down and tried to find the strength to admit what he already knew. “I think I’m asexual.”
“Youthink, or youknow?” Felix let him go, and buttoned him up, then stood a foot away from the door so Dmitri could sit up.
“I used to think I was. My friend told me you can only be asexual if you have sexual trauma, and I don’t, so I don’t know…” He stopped, letting out a small growl as he dragged fingers through his hair.
“And you believe everything he tells you?” His accusation cut to the quick, and he wanted to hide his wince, but he wasn’t fast enough. Felix didn’t look sorry, but Dmitri had been clear he didn’t want pity, so maybe this was his concession. “I mean, you have the internet, don’t you? It’s easy enough to fucking google. Sex ed has been pretty modern these days. Why would you let me touch you if you didn’t want it?”
He felt a hot coiled knot in his stomach on the back of his confusion. He desperately wished for the words to explain how he felt. How he wanted to be touched, even if it didn’t mean coming down someone’s throat. How he craved with an almost desperation contact that went beyond platonic, even if it never got himthere.
Why did it have to be one or the other? Why was he always shoved into some fucking box?
“I’ll drive us back.” It was all he could say, and Felix helped him clear up their take-out trash, but he didn’t say another word as they got back into town. He didn’t know where to take him, and he didn’t want to ask, so he pulled to the entrance of the lake and let him out.
When Felix didn’t complain, he knew then the guy would rather walk back to town or call his parents than exchange another word with someone whose only crime was being himself—and maybe a little confused. The sound of his car door slamming was like a shallow knife to his gut—wounding but not fatal. He swore he could taste blood in his mouth, and he swallowed it all down as he put the car back into drive and took the long way home.
There was something comforting about finding his uncle waiting for him, sitting on the sofa in his sweats with his long hair tied in a messy bun. His fingernails were a molten silver and they glinted in the light as he pressed palms to his thighs to help him stand. He must have read something on Dmitri’s face, because he didn’t say a word, he just gathered his nephew into a hug and held him until something in his body started to relax.
“Thanks,” Dmitri muttered after he pulled away.
Jayden shook his head, then grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the back door. They sat out on the porch for a bit, Dmitri rocking in the porch swing and Jayden sat on the steps. “Did you have a good birthday?”
Dmitri considered all his options before he smiled again and then lied because there was no use in making his uncle feel bad. “It was great.”
Jayden smiled stiffly, like he heard the lie, but he didn’t call him on it. He just tipped his beer toward him, and they didn’t talk about his night again.
