Page 14 of Inhuman Nature
“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Rake asked.
DJ’s head shot up from where he was staring into his tomato soup, one hand fingering the silver chain necklace he wore in lieu of his collar.
They’d arrived at the office cafe early, waiting for their friends—and DJ’s friend David—to join them. Not that DJ was making the most of their longer lunch. By the time he ate any soup, it would be cold and give him an excuse to chuck it out.
“Him who?” DJ replied.
Rake narrowed his eyes, making it clear he wasn’t fooled by DJ’s question.
“Shaun?” DJ asked. He’d never been very good at pretending. Granted, it usually involved him lying about having done the dishes or eaten breakfast, and not about him being preoccupied with another guy.
They weren’t open, but they weren’t strictly monogamous, either. Even so, DJ thinking about someone else for longer than a shared scene hadn’t happened before in their six-year relationship.
Until now.
“You’ve been distracted all weekend,” Rake said. “And today you’re barely touching your food.” It didn’t take much to trigger DJ’s propensity for skipping meals. Rake just wasn’t sure whether DJ felt self-conscious about the comparison between him and Shaun—DJ being tall and chunky compared to the tiny Shaun—or if he was anxious about Shaun’s well-being. Maybe it was both.
“Rake, it’s not like that.”
“I think it’s worrying you. I don’t like seeing it.”
“Of course I’m concerned about him. His pathetic excuse for a Dom shouldn’t be allowed back in the club after breaking the rules like that.”
Rake didn’t disagree. “We’ll keep an eye out for Shaun next time we’re there, okay?”
DJ spooned some soup into his mouth. “Thank you.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how close are you two to quitting your jobs today?” Sophie asked as she sat down at their table. “Because I’m an eleven.”
“I’m a five,” DJ replied as David and Van also joined them at the table, lunches in hand.
“Rake needs to do a better job of fluffing your ego if you think you’re only a five,” David said.
Rake frowned at David, unsure whether to be offended at the insult to himself, annoyed with the flirting, or pleased that David had complimented DJ.
“On thequittingscale,” DJ clarified.
“Ah. I’m a seven, in that case.” David paused. “In both cases, actually.”
“I’m a solid four,” Van said as she sat herself down. “Havinga good day so far.” She shifted her chair a little further away from Rake, making sure they weren’t touching. He appreciated how conscious she was of his touch aversion. Some others in the office hadn’t been as understanding.
David had been one of those people. After he’d clapped Rake on the back for the second time on the very first occasion that they’d met at after-work drinks, DJ had stepped in to have a quiet word. Not that Rake couldn’t say something himself, but his autistic communication style tended towards blunt statements. He’d been told on more than one occasion that he came across as rude in those types of situations. DJ was much better at the whole peopling thing.
Rake didn’t have the energy to engage with someone as exhausting as David on a good day, and today wasn’t an especially good day. Whilst Rake might have accused DJ of being preoccupied with Shaun, he had also been turning the encounter over in his own mind all weekend.
He ate in silence as the others chatted around him about their work on the company’s next release—its first foray into console gaming from mobile apps—which would have most of them needing to work overtime for the next six months. Van worked on Rake’s team in UX Design, and DJ worked with David in Game Design, whilst Sophie was in either the finance or marketing or HR team. Rake couldn’t remember which, because she kept getting promoted into different departments.
“What are you guys up to this weekend?” Van asked Rake. DJ, Sophie and David had moved on to talking about some reality series. DJ had never seen an episode of the show, which Rake knew, though he gasped along to Sophie’s in-depthanalysis of one contestant’s betrayal of another as if he had a personal stake in the matter.
“We’re going to DJ’s parents’ house,” Rake said.
“That sounds nice. Do you get on with them well?” Van kept her voice quiet. She’d only joined the company recently, but had inserted herself into their newly dubbed Gaymers friendship circle, claiming they were too heavy on the G (Rake and David) and the B (DJ and Sophie), so had a clear vacancy in the L and the T positions she could fill.
She’d also been open about no longer speaking to her religious parents. Like Rake, Van was just another disowned queer kid in need of a welcoming tribe, so he understood what her question wasreallyasking.
“DJ’s parents are nice,” Rake said. “But the family is very full on. Imagine twenty DJs all in one room and then turn the volume up. That’s what attending one of the Armstrong-Tomlinson gatherings is like.”
“It’s not that bad!” DJ interjected. “You always make my mum’s family sound mad when you describe them.”