Throwing up several hands, Gem barely resisted the urge to pull his hair out. “I’m so sorry that I was too busy checking for basic hygiene—because I do, in fact, have standards—that I didn’t catch his name. It’s not my fault that he didn’t look like a Brad. Now,” he said, slamming a palm on the back of the other end of the couch, “sit over here, where Brad’s naked ass hasn’t been.”
Rusty’s lip curled. “Someone else’s naked ass has been there, hasn’t it?”
Gem’s leg fur hummed in aggravation. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“Are there any surfaces in your house thathaven’thad a naked ass on them?” Rusty asked skeptically.
“Probably,” Gem said, faltering before he added, “though, I’ll be honest, none currently come to mind.”
Without waiting for Rusty to actually listen to him—because when had Rusty ever actually listened to him?—Gem ducked behind the room partition and dug through his dresser. He pulled on a pair of capri sweats before searching out one of Toni’s old shirts that he’d left here once. He found the smallest pair of sleep shorts he owned and tested the elastic.
They’d have to do. Anything bigger, and they’d fall right off Rusty’s flat ass. Not that Gem had ever paid attention to Rusty’s ass. Not really. He’d just noticed in passing, as one does. He’d also noticed Rusty’s cute, chubbybelly, but that made more sense. Gem loved a boy with a belly. They were soft and squishy and snuggly. Big boys were just the best, and while Rusty was fun-sized, he was thicc in all the right places.
Not that Gem cared about his… places. That would be weird.
A pained noise from the living room cut through Gem’s musings, and he found himself still staring at the sleep shorts. Shit, he’d gotten distracted again. Curse Rusty and his wonderful, little pudding pouch!
“Okay, so I don’t have many options for clothing, but…” Gem trailed off as he stepped back into the living room.
Rusty sat on the coffee table, his shirt in a wet heap at his side. He was rubbing the towel over his head, drying the thick fur between his ears. His chest fur was pale pink, nearly matching his eyes, and Gem was granted a lovely view of his belly pooching over the band of his jeans.
The Pyclon lifted his head, meeting Gem’s gaze fleetingly before he scrutinized the clothes in Gem’s hand. “It’s Toni’s shirt,” Gem said, and Rusty made a face. “I would get you one of mine, but you know, all the arm holes.”
“Fair enough,” Rusty conceded, taking the clothes Gem offered.
“I’ll get the med kit from the bathroom while you change.” Gem was already backing toward the bathroom. “Just let me know when you’re… decent.”
Rusty snorted derisively. “I hate that this is a true fact, but it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, remember?”
Yes, Gem did remember that fateful weekend over a year ago, but, more than the image of Rusty’s naked, albeit fur-covered body, Gem recalled his discomfort. And as much as he enjoyed teasing Rusty, he never wanted to actually make him uncomfortable. He had fought fang and tarsal claw toearn some semblance of trust and friendship with the Pyclon, and he wasn’t going to risk that for the sake of a lewd joke or an easy laugh.
So he said, “Be that as it may, I’m trying to be respectful.”
With an unamused huff, Rusty lifted the shorts and displayed them for Gem to see. “Really?”
A giggle burst from between Gem’s lips as he read the word scrawled across the ass in sparkling glitter:Juicy.
“As unbelievable as it sounds, that was unintentional,” Gem said, trying and failing to swallow his snickers. “But it will be no less appreciated.”
Rusty scowled deeply, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“Oh, get over yourself, Care Bear,” Gem cooed as he shimmied backward toward the bathroom. “Remember what we’ve been practicing lately? Laughing at ourselves because most things just aren’t that deep.”
“My foot in your ass will be deep,” Rusty offered conversationally as he dropped the shorts to the coffee table and resumed drying off.
“Mmm, someone’s feeling flirty tonight,” Gem teased and was rewarded with a flip of Rusty’s middle finger.
“Eat so much ass,” Rusty said flatly.
Hovering in the bathroom doorway, Gem pressed two hands to his chest and simpered. “It’s so precious that you think that’s an insult andnotan invitation to a super fun night.”
“Slut,” Rusty grumbled.
“Prick,” Gem slapped back.
They made eye contact as Gem slowly shut the door between them, but before it closed completely, they broke into laughter, Gem’s loud and boisterous, Rusty’s rough and reserved. Gem adored the Pyclon’s laugh, even more so given the rarity of it. But in the momentsRusty did laugh, it filled Gem with gooey warmth, like Rusty was sharing a special piece of himself with Gem, however small and, on the surface, meaningless.
In mixed company, Rusty was quiet and guarded, keeping his emotions and reactions under wraps. Even with Gem, he hardly ever dropped the sarcastic mask, spurning any type of sincerity or vulnerability. He was always tense, coiled tight as a spring. It used to stress Gem out being in the same room as him, like working beside a ticking time bomb.
