“It’s just no one’s ever seen my cow closet. Except Toni, but he doesn’t count.” Gem fiddled with his hair, swiping at the moisture spilling from his eyes. He had so many of them, and every time he cried, he felt like he was drowning. It was incredibly annoying.
“Do you, uh”—Rusty reached back and hauled Walter out of the closet, puffing slightly as he maneuvered the ridiculously large stuffie—“need to snuggle Walter?”
Half-laughing, half-crying, Gem nodded and took Walter from Rusty’s grasp, wrapping all six arms around him and squeezing him tight. “Thanks.”
They stood in awkward silence for almost a full minute before Rusty gestured to the closet. “Sorry for barging in there. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal to you.”
“No, it’s not. I mean, maybe it is,” Gem said, face half-hidden in Walter’s head. “Because I know how it looks. I know it’s a lot. I knowI’ma lot.”
Rusty frowned at that. “What do you mean?”
Gem waved at the cow closet, at the cow stuffie, at himself. “Me. I’m a lot. I know that. For the most part, I’ve made my peace with it.”
Bushy brows furrowed, Rusty blinked slowly, like he was thinking hard about something. “A lot of what?”
And since Gem was still very high, he said, “What?”
With a huff, Rusty scratched behind his ear and grimaced. “I’ve heard you say that before, but it sounds like you’re reciting something other people have told you, not something that’s real. Because what does that actually mean? What are you a lot of, exactly?”
For a moment, Gem was speechless, which was not something he was accustomed to. “I don’t know. I think it’s, like, I’m generally a lot. Ioverwhelm and annoy people, maybe? Or like, I’m too intense or just too much for people.”
“Then they’re not your people,” Rusty said simply. “You’re a lot ofyou, sure. But no one can be too much of themselves. Like you’re just you, and that should be okay.”
Emotion cinched Gem’s throat shut, and he had to swallow several times before he could respond. “Really?”
“I mean,” Rusty drawled, shrugging half-heartedly, “I’m pretty blazed right now—so I might be talking out of my ass—but I feel like if someone thinks you’re too much, then they’re not your kind of person. So, like, fuck them, you know?”
“Yeah, fuck them,” Gem echoed.
“Yeah, ’cause, like, you’re just fine how you are. Even with the crazy cow closet,” Rusty said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Hiding his teary simper in Walter’s head, Gem said, “Thanks, Rus. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. It might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Oh.” Rusty kicked at the rug awkwardly. “It’s whatever.”
“So the cow closet doesn’t freak you out?”
Glancing back at the closet, Rusty shrugged. “I mean, that is some certifiable shit right there, but who isn’t a little crazy these days? Sane people are so basic. And boring. You’re not. So stop crying. I’m pretty sure crying doesn’t fit the slumber party aesthetic.”
Blinking back tears, Gem nodded, nuzzling the top of Walter’s head. “You still wanna have a slumber party?”
“Well, yeah, I’m not done painting your nails,” Rusty said simply, like the last few minutes hadn’t shaken Gem to his core.
But Gem couldn’t think about that or else he would start crying again, so instead, he said, “So what you’re saying is, you wanna go back to my bed and kiki?”
With a miserable groan, Rusty rolled his head around his shoulders, then shook out his limbs like he was preparing for something unpleasant and physically taxing. Then he leveled Gem with a resigned grimace. “I’m going to say this one time, and one time only.”
Gem inhaled sharply but didn’t dare speak for fear of ruining what was about to be the best moment of his entire existence.
Looking like a man approaching the gallows, Rusty flashed Gem grudging finger guns and ground out, “Guuurl, let’s kiki.”
And who could blame Gem for charging at the Pyclon and bundling him up in a tight embrace. Rusty only fought it a little.
Chapter twelve
Gaiz of Two
Rusty
