“I think,” Gem said around his giggles as he retrieved the joint from the coffee table with his lowest hand, “weed makes you honest. And I’m sohere for it.”
“Oh no,” Rusty whined.
“Oh yes.” Gem beamed.
“Fuck,” Rusty said, tongue thick and cumbersome. “I didn’t smoke too much, did I?”
Slowly, Gem cupped Rusty’s face, thumbs rubbing through the fur on his cheeks. “How many hits did you take?”
“I dunno. A couple,” Rusty said, and Gem winced.
“Probably should have started out with just one to see how you reacted. That’s my bad.” Petting Rusty’s face and arms with two sets of hands, Gem smiled loosely down at him. “Don’t you worry, though. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”
Rusty inhaled Gem’s cinnamon and coffee scent, letting it set him at ease. “It is?”
“Yeah. We’ll put the joint away and let you come down a bit.” Gem made a show of setting the now unlit joint in the ashtray as he continued, “And I’m gonna be right here the whole time, keeping you safe like a godsdamned superhero.”
With a blinding grin, Gem bent and pecked the top of Rusty’s head, giving it a parting pat. Then he sat down on the couch and took a bite of the kili-stuffed rolls. Rusty stood, frozen again, mouth hanging ajar as his tail whipped erratically behind him. Because Gem had just kissed him. Like it was nothing. Like it was normal. And it made his whiskers twitch, and his hands were even more sweaty now.
“Sit down,” Gem said around his food. “You’re making me nervous.”
Lowering himself to the couch, Rusty took the half-eaten roll Gem offered him and shoved it into his mouth. The sweet, salty concoction burst over his tongue, and he groaned in appreciation, making Gem burst into another round of giggles.
They alternated between laughing profusely and eating, and when Rusty couldn’t swallow another bite for fear of exploding, he collapsed into the couch and sighed in contentment as his brain floated. Somehow, Gem ended up on his back, head in Rusty’s lap as he played with Rusty’s hand. He pressed their palms together, his fingers almost double the length of Rusty’s. Bending them at the knuckles, he folded the tops of his fingers over the back of Rusty’s and cackled.
When he shifted his hand until their fingers laced, he grinned, like he was pleased with how they fit together, then laid their twined hands on his chest as he rambled. Rusty wasn’t sure what he was prattling on about, too busy staring at the place they were connected.
He felt the Araknis’s double heartbeat th-th-thunking against his palm, and Gem’s thumb was rubbing over the back of his hand, his sparkly nail polish catching the light with every stroke. Gem touched him so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world to get close to him, and Rusty wasn’t sure what to do with it.
Sure, he was used to people grabbing at his tail to be suggestive or cruel, but they avoided his claws and his teeth—the parts that made him dangerous, that made him an animal, that made him apito. But Gem wasn’t scared of him, not even a little. He traced the sharp edges of Rusty’s claws with his fingertips as he rambled about nothing, all stream of consciousness, like the idea of Rusty ever hurting him was so ridiculous it was unthinkable.
It made Rusty’s chest heat and tighten, even as his stomach went gooey. He’d never allowed himself to be bothered by the way people treated him. It was his lot in life, and caring just made it worse. It was why he kept his walls up all the time, so he could be safe behind them.
But here, with Gem, it was nice to let his guard down. Because Gem didn’t care that he was a Pyclon, or that he’d worked Flesh Street, or thathe was grouchy and boring and generally unpleasant to be around. Despite everything, Gem seemed to genuinely like him, and it was as terrifying as it was wonderful.
“What’re you thinking about?” Gem asked after a fashion, two of his small eyes flitting over Rusty’s face.
“We’re holding hands,” Rusty said before he could stop himself, because weed really did make him honest, apparently. “Why are we holding hands?”
“I told you I get snuggly when I’m high,” Gem said with a playful smirk, wriggling even closer as if to prove his point. Resting his head against Rusty’s stomach, he sighed. “And you’re so comfy to cuddle with.”
“I am?”
Gem frowned. “Yeah. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”
Rusty shook his head. “No one’s ever cuddled with me before.”
Okay, seriously? He was never getting high again if it meant he couldn’t stop his word vomit.
“That…” Gem sat up and scooched his ass back until he was nearly in Rusty’s lap, arms surrounding him until he was entirely caged in the Araknis’s limbs. “That is a travesty! You’re, like, the comfiest and deserve all the cuddles.”
“I don’t want all the cuddles,” Rusty said, swallowing thickly under the intensity of all eight of Gem’s eyes. “I don’t like people touching me.”
Sadness washed over Gem’s features, almost too quickly for Rusty to catch, but he leaned back. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Not you,” Rusty rushed out before Gem had gone too far. “I don’t mind if you… touch me. I mean, like this. It’s fine if you want to—’cause we’re friends. So it’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Gem chewed on his bottom lip and scrutinized Rusty closely. “Are you sure?” Not trusting his words, Rusty just nodded, andGem’s smile returned. “Okay, good. ’Cause I really like cuddling with you. Your fur is so soft, and your snack pack is squishy.”
