“When you were younger?” Rusty teased around a bite of noodles.
Gem flipped him off with his lowest hand as he started the delicate process of separating the cracked screen from the rest of the phone. “Anyway,” he said, purposefully ignoring the jab, “replacing them got expensive, so I learned how to fix them instead. Now, I keep extra phone screens on hand, just in case. I haven’t broken a phone in, like, a while, though.”
Shoving another bite of noodles into his mouth, Rusty arched a bushy brow, and Gem narrowed one, small eye at him. “You’re lucky I used to have this model. And you’re lucky I’m even doing this for you. Out of the kindness of my hearts.”
“I can tell it’s a real hardship for you,” Rusty snipped back.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full; that’s gross,” Gem chided, and Rusty rolled his eyes. “It’s not a hardship, actually. Phones are easy to fix. When I was a kid, my dad used to bring me broken stuff that people left on the curb, like old radios and TV’s, that kind of thing. I loved taking them apart, figuring out how they worked, and, when possible, fixing them.
“I took apart a laptop once. I never got it to work, though. Microchips and motherboards are too finicky and not that interesting. I prefer older electronics and engines and stuff. It keeps my brain and hands busy, you know?
“Granted, I don’t have time for that kind of stuff anymore, but my childhood bedroom was full of junk I’d ripped apart. I even made a little money reselling the shit I managed to fix. Bought my first set of heels that way. Nothing name brand or anything, but they were bright yellow and covered in rhinestones.” With a laugh, Gem shook his head as he fit the new screen into Rusty’s phone. “Gods, they were so gaudy, but I saved up for weeks to buy those stupid things. Wore them to my first high school dance ’cause they matched the yellow gown my sister made me.
“Lost my virginity in that outfit. Well, technically, I wasn’t wearing the dress, but I did keep the heels on.” Gem winked obnoxiously at Rusty, and the Pyclon snorted as he set the empty noodle container down and grabbed the next one—marinatedhunletin a spicy nut sauce. “I was fifteen. He was my second-year boyfriend, and neither of us knew what we were doing. So it was messy and awkward, and he came before he even got fully inside me. But it was sweet all the same. You know how young love is.”
Instead of chuckling along with him, Rusty stiffened, fork pausing halfway to his mouth as his eyes pinched in the corners. For a moment, he frowned, almost painfully, then he blinked away whatever memories had caused the far-off look and muttered, “I’ll take your word for it.”
Normally, Gem might have pressed, might have teased him about teenage crushes and first kisses, but there was something in Rusty’s pale eyes, something haunted that had guilt settling low and thick in Gem’s gut. As a teen, Gem had run for homecoming queen, kissed boys under the bleachers behind the school, and lost his virginity in the basement of his boyfriend’s parents’ house. But Rusty… maybe Rusty hadn’t experienced anything like that. He’d been a sex worker, after all. Ateenagesex worker.
“What was his name?” Rusty asked, and Gem blinked, Rusty’s new phone screen coming into focus, reflecting his own face back at him.
He turned to the Pyclon as he took the last bite of hunlet. “Huh?”
“The boyfriend,” Rusty said around his bite. “The one who came before he even got inside you. What was his name?”
An uncharacteristic flush warmed Gem’s cheeks. “I feel like you’re gonna judge me when I tell you.” Rusty remained silent, simply cocking an eyebrow, and Gem huffed. “His name was Kyl.”
Rusty grinned wide enough to show canine as he scoffed. “Of course his name was Kyl.”
“He was very sweet,” Gem defended.
“Yeah? Did he write you poetry?”
“No!” Gem looked away, smoothing a screen protector on Rusty’s phone. “He wrote me a song.”
Rusty chuckled low and little mocking. “Please tell me he didn’t serenade you with the acoustic guitar he taught himself to play?”
A hum of annoyance vibrated from Gem’s fur. “No, he recorded it on the mixed tape he made me.”
That low chuckle grew into a chortle, and Gem tried to glare but couldn’t follow through, not when Rusty was laughing. So he joined in, laughing up at the ceiling as Rusty snickered around the dumpling he’d popped into his mouth.
As their laughter drifted off, Gem turned Rusty’s phone on, grinning triumphantly as it lit up, loading the lock screen. “Alakazam!” He showed Rusty the phone with a flourish. “And it still has that new car smell.”
Rusty took it with a snort, inspecting the edges before he nodded, looking grudgingly impressed. “Nice. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Tossing all the supplies into the box, Gem gathered the empty food containers as well and cleared the coffee table. “Now I don’t know about you, but I need my beauty sleep. My bed is huge, so we can share if you want. But I can make up the couch for you, if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I can call a car—” Rusty tried, but Gem shot him a stern look, causing the Pyclon to stop halfway through his sentence.
“You’re staying here tonight,” Gem stated firmly, and Rusty scowled but didn’t argue. “Would you prefer the couch? Or do you wanna share the bed? I promise I won’t get handsy.”
Rusty’s right ear twitched, and he glanced over his shoulder toward Gem’s bed. “I’ll, uh, just take the couch.”
Refusing to take it personally, Gem nodded easily and said, “Okay. I’ll get you some sheets.”
“Do you want the last one?” Rusty rose from the couch, holding the last food container in one hand, while the other offered Gem a dumpling. “I, uh, ate the rest. Sorry.”
Unable to hide his pleased grin, Gem crossed the room and took the offered dumpling. “That’s okay. I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.”
