[Zef] I shall arrive at two.
[Gem] Ew, Ollie! No one wants to know about your weird sweat kink.
[Glyma] I’ll bring snacks!
[Willow] I have some bubbly fruit spritzers.
[Rusty] I’m with Gem. TMI, dude.
[Toni] I’ll bring myself. You’re welcome.
[Zef] I can contribute bottled waters.
[Tad] I’ll bring the tear gas.
Everyone responded identically, the messages pinging in quick succession, one after another: “No tear gas!”
Twenty minutes later, Gemboarded the tram, belly flipping when he caught sight of Rusty already seated toward the back. His head was bent, gaze on his phone. One of his fluffy ears had folded forward;the other stood tall. His bushy tail draped over the seat next to him, keeping it empty. Saving it.
Gem wasn’t sure why that, of all things, made him feel disgustingly gooey inside. Ever since the night Rusty had taken him to The Point and shown him where he’d grown up, Gem had been experiencing a lot of gooey feelings anytime he hung out with, talked to, or thought about Rusty. Which usually meant that he was coming down with a crush—or a violent case of the stomach flu.
If it was the latter, his beach day was about to take a terrible and disgusting turn, but seeing as the alternative was him having an honest-to-gods crush on Rusty, he was kind of hoping for the explosive vomiting. Not that a crush was the worst thing in the world. He’d survived numerous ones throughout his twenty-eight-and-three-quarters years of life, and since he wasn’t some immature juvenile, it wasn’t like he would lose himself to the drama of his feelings.
Yes, feelings were there to be felt and validated, but he wasn’t going toindulgethem. He was rational (more or less) and realistic (most of the time), and he knew that entertaining a crush on Rusty would end badly. Because Gem couldn’t imagine Rusty ever returning the feelings.
Was Rusty attracted to him on a physical level? Gem was pretty confident the answer was a resounding yes; Rusty’s pheromones didn’t lie. But then again who wasn’t? It came with the territory of being fun, flirty, and femme.
As arrogant as it made him sound, Gem was accustomed to people wanting him, even if it was never for more than a hook-up or a recurring booty call if he was lucky. But anything more? Not so much.
Gem was, after all, a lot. For most people, he was too much. He was fun for a night or a weekend fling, but he wasn’t the guy anyone was bringinghome to meet the folks. He was good enough to fuck but not date. Good enough for no-strings-attached sex but not a relationship. And honestly, it was fine. He didn’t need love or monogamous commitment. He was perfectly happy with his bachelor life, getting dicked down whenever he wanted and building a community of amazing friends.
And while Rusty seemed to enjoy being Gem’s friend, Gem knew it would never be anything more. Which wasfine. Rusty not returning his crush was no big deal. Gem would crush. He might even flirt a little. But then he’d get over it like he always did, and everyone would be the better for it.
Still, if he had a say in the matter, he would rather not crush. Life was easier that way, and he liked when his life was easy. He was not built for strife.
“Gem?” Rusty’s voice infiltrated Gem’s thoughts, and he blinked his many eyes, focusing back on the here and now in the tram.
“Yes?” he said.
Glancing around awkwardly, Rusty gestured to the seat he’d saved for Gem. “Are you gonna sit? You’ve been standing there staring for, like, five minutes.”
“I was not,” Gem denied as he sat down, nearly squashing part of Rusty’s tail under his ass.
With a hiss, Rusty bundled his tail onto his lap and glared. “Watch it! And yes, you were. We’re almost to the next stop already.”
As if to confirm the ridiculous claim, the tram slowed, then came to a squeaking stop, doors sliding open to let new passengers in as others departed. Gem’s cheeks warmed, and he searched through his beach bag for his sunglasses to give himself something to do as he fought the blush.
“Whatever. I was just thinking.”
Rusty chuckled under his breath, sharp claws—recently painted metallic black at their last slumber party—smoothing the fur of his tail. “Figured.”
“Shut up.” Studying Rusty’s usual ensemble of black clothes, Gem frowned. “Are you not swimming? Where’s your suit?”
Rusty’s paws faltered, fingers curling reflexively around his tail before he shot Gem a wry grin. “Not everyone feels comfortable riding the tram in a bikini like you.”
With a giggle, Gem leaned in, hooking his top arm around Rusty’s neck. “Are you wearing a bikini? ’Cause I’d pay money to see that.”
“Too bad I’m not for sale anymore,” Rusty said as he lifted Gem’s arm by his wrist and guided it off his shoulders and into his own lap. “I like the new suit, by the way. I was expecting something a little more ostentatious, but it’s nice.”
