“I want you too,” Rusty admitted, and Gem’s belly tightened in anticipation.
“That’s real good, and one day, we can do something about that. If you want to,” he added with a significant look. “But tonight, I just want you to kiss me.”
Like he still didn’t understand, Rusty frowned but leaned down to kiss him. Gem wrapped his many limbs around him, holding him tight and secure as he kissed him back. Rusty would fuck him if Gem asked him to, and he would make it good because he had the skills. But Gem didn’t want to rush.
Rusty was used to offering his body like it was some commodity, like he was something to be ordered off a menu and consumed at the patron’s leisure. Rusty would give because he was accustomed to other’s taking, but Gem didn’t want to be another taker. Rusty deserved more than that; he deserved to be worshiped and cared for and prioritized.
Gem wanted to show Rusty what it meant to share in pleasure, and if they jumped right into sex, he feared what that would communicate. He didn’t want Rusty to feel used. Gem wanted all of Rusty, not just his dick. Though, yes, he did really want his dick. Gem had a feeling it would be a nice dick, one he would very much enjoy riding.
But it wasn’t about sex, not tonight.
So when Rusty kissed him deeply, claws digging into his skin through his shirt, Gem hummed in contentment, relishing the sting. “This is enough,” Gem whispered against Rusty’s lips. “You’re enough, ashari.”
With an almost wounded noise, Rusty buried his face in Gem’s neck and shuddered. Wrapping his arms around the Pyclon, Gem tightened his hold, never wanting this moment to end.
When Gem woke thenext morning, the storm had passed, but his sleep-heavy brain swore he could still taste the static magic in the air. Blissful and content, he slowly approached consciousness, replaying the tender kisses Rusty had left on his lips and the designs his claws had painted over Gem’s brow and cheeks the night before.
With a sigh, Gem turned over and stretched out his hand, expecting to meet silky, warm fur. Instead he found cold, empty sheets, and disappointment doused his glow of happiness instantly. His eyes shot open, and he sat up in a rush, frowning at the rumpled but clearly empty bed.
Rusty was gone.
Pain lanced through Gem’s chest, and he gasped through it, bundling the sheets in his hands. It wasn’t like this was new. He was very used to waking alone, his hook-ups offering excuses about their jobs or their obligations… or their wives. And he’d never let it hurt before.
But this? Yeah, this hurt.
He sniffed, blinking through the sudden burn in his eyes, and smelled spicy tobacco smoke. His hearts stuttered, then tripped into overdrive as he scrambled from the bed and around his room partition. The window to the fire escape was open, and Rusty was in the middle of climbing through it, crushing a cigarette butt against the brick outside.
He glanced up, pale eyes meeting Gem’s, and he smirked a crooked smile. “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“You’re here,” Gem said stupidly, and Rusty’s brows furrowed. “I mean, of course you’re here. There you are standing in my flat. I just thought you weren’t here. Because I woke up, and you weren’t in bed, so I thought you left.
“Which would have been fine,” he blurted as Rusty’s furrow deepened. “You’re not obligated to stay, of course. Not that I didn’t want you to. I did. Ido!I’m so glad you stayed. I just would have understood if you hadn’t. Because you’re probably really busy. With things. And stuff.”
Rusty was smiling now, watching Gem ramble like he was the most precious pippy he’d ever seen. It made Gem feel warm and gooey inside andmight have made his asshole quiver a little. Gods, Gem was already gone for his man, wasn’t he? And he hadn’t even touched Gem’s asshole yet.
Which was kind of new. Gem tended to fuck first and, in very rare circumstances, get feelings later. Doing it in the opposite order had him all flustered and discombobulated.
“I don’t have things,” Rusty said, still smiling as he slowly approached. “Or stuff.”
Gem fidgeted. “Oh.”
Stopping toe-to-tarsal claw with Gem, Rusty angled his head to look up at Gem. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t have just left.”
“Oh,” Gem repeated, emotion thickening his voice. “Well, that’s very nice.”
Rusty chuckled and dragged a knuckle over Gem’s jaw. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Gem whispered back.
They stared at each other for a long second before Rusty huffed and pinched Gem’s chin. “I can’t reach you up there,” he said dryly. “You need to come down here.”
And Gem burst into laughter as he bent down and practically scooped the Pyclon up, their mouths meeting in a joyous mash of lips and teeth. They kissed and laughed simultaneously, and Gem couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.
Rusty stayed all day. They cooked breakfast and ate it on the fire escape, legs swinging in the open air between the railing slats. Since it was Sunday, Gem had to do laundry, so Rusty went with him to the laundromat and read Gem’s latest smut novel aloud—quietly—while Gem separated his clothing into the appropriate loads.
As they waited on the laundry cycle to finish, they snacked on dokha seeds and crackers from the vending machine. By the time the lead character’s bosom was heaving and the love interest’s member was throbbing, Gem shoved his clean clothes into his laundry sack, and they headed home, hand-in-hand.
They spent the afternoon kissing lazily on the couch between episodes ofThe Promised Neverland. At one point, Rusty fell asleep, lying between Gem’s legs, head on his chest as he pet the fur between his ears. As he napped, he purred in a steady rhythm that nearly lulled Gem to sleep as well, though he fought the pull. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this to unconsciousness.
