“Not between the three of us. Casey’s bossy too, so sometimes he tellsmewhat to do. I like that too. Will’s more laid back, but he’s nobody’s sub.” Scott paused. “Are you into BDSM? Because I don’t have any expertise there, but Casey probably knows somebody.”
“No!” Cross modulated his tone. “I mean, I don’t think so. Just trying to figure stuff out.”
“At the risk of sounding like a know-it-all, sex is about what feels good. To you and your partner or partners, not someone else. There’s stuff I like that Will doesn’t, and that doesn’t make it right or wrong. Will might watch Casey do it to me, and get off on how much I enjoy it.” Scott cleared his throat. “Is that TMI?”
“No, that’s… that’s perfect, actually. So sometimes one of you just watches?”
“Sure. Although we almost always end up jerking off, because the other two are so freaking hot.” Scott grinned. “And we’re all so modest.”
“You are hot, all three of you, although Casey and Will aren’t my type.”
“I notice the name you left off that list. So you like what? More of a hockey player build?”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m not sure I actually have a type. I dated a woman before. I almost married her.”
“So you’re bisexual.”
“I think so? I loved her, she was great, but the sex was… okay.”
“Sex should be more than okay. Have you slept with a guy? Is it better?”
Cross shrugged, his stomach feeling squirmy. He was ready to be done with this conversation. “I’ve done stuff with guys. Sometimes it’s hotter.”Mostly with Rusty, that last time, making him come, joyfully, enthusiastically. Better than even with Willow, how much he liked it.
“So maybe you’re bisexual but you lean to guys. Or maybe you’re gay but biromantic. Or whatever.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Hey.” Scott leaned toward him and laid a hand on his forearm. “You don’t have to define it or name it. You do you. If you find guys hot, yay, so do I. If you want to come out, I have your back. If you don’t, you can still talk to me whenever.”
Cross’s throat went tight. “Thanks. I don’t want to come out. Not yet.” How could he when he didn’t understand himself? He pushed his stool back and got up. “Gonna clear the plates.”
Scott got up too. “I should go home and nap before the game. But Roger?”
“Cross.” He’d never made a point of that with a teammate before. He hated to seem weird, but today was all the weird already. “I don’t actually like my name that much.”
“Cross, then. There are really only two rules to relationships, and those areconsenting.” He held up one finger. “Adults.” He held up a second. “Over eighteen, and everyone can say no at any time and it stops. No, you know what, not just a right to say no, but enthusiastic consent. If someone’s not saying yes, you stopand figure out why. But that’s it. The rest is no one’s business but yours.”
“Okay.” He set the plates in the sink and followed Scott to the front door.
On the threshold, Scott paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “You know, Will’s fifteen years older than me. Doesn’t matter.”
Fifteen years? Was that a random comment? Does he know about me and Rusty? Shit.Cross tried to focus on Scott’s words and not let himself visibly react.
“Will’s awesome,” Scott continued. “We met him in this bar, and I said, ‘He’s the guy.’ Casey and I are too much alike. We strike the wrong kind of sparks sometimes. Will’s like this long, cool drink of water that keeps the sparks from turning into fires. We work. Age is just a number.” He laughed. “Listen to me being all Yoda.”
“No, I appreciate it. Thanks.” If Scott wasn’t just talking randomly, at least he didn’t seem bothered by the idea of Cross and Rusty together.
In fact, Scott grinned and gave a thumbs up. “See you at the game, Cross.”
When Cross had shut the door behind Scott and his watch pinged that the gate had reclosed, he wandered back to the kitchen. Putting away the little bits of leftovers and rinsing the dishes used up a bit of time. He tried to keep his mind blank, but his brain kept pulling up wisps of thoughts.Will is fifteen years older. What matters is consent. You do you.But also,We almost always jerk off…Was it really weird that Cross had wanted to lean through the screen and kiss the hell out of Rusty, clean him up and pull him into bed? Andnotjerk off?
Maybe demi isn’t the right fit for me.But he didn’t want to go farther down that path. Not before a game. Especially one where Rusty would be in the seats watching him.
And also Marie.Fuck.
He’d been suppressing the realization that they’d be side by side in his two seats and he hadn’t warned either of them. Of course, neither of them knew the other from a hole in the wall. Technically, it should be fine. But if Marie shouted “Go, RJ!” then Rusty would figure out she wasn’t just another stranger.
Rusty at least should know about Marie. Marie… He’d mentioned going out with someone younger. She’d assumed it was a woman, but Marie was sharp and not a homophobe. Was there a chance she’d guess?
