Page 23

Shrugging loosely, Gem took another hit. “It’s just my lot in life, I guess. If that’s the worst I have to deal with, then I am insanely fortunate.”

As Gem handed the joint back to Rusty, he stretched and wandered to his bedroom, disappearing around the room partition. “I’m gonna change. You wanna borrow my juicy shorts again?”

“I’m good,” Rusty said as took another long, deep drag. The smoke burned exquisitely, sweeter than the spicy tobacco he usually liked, but he relished it all the same. Smoking was the one vice he indulged.

The doorbell rang, and since Gem was changing, Rusty answered it, joint dangling from his lips as he took the food Gem had ordered. He handed the guy a tip, then kicked the door shut behind him as he carried the bags into the living room.

“Want water?” Gem called from the kitchen, and Rusty grunted an affirmative as he opened the food boxes, stomach rumbling at the savory scent of Pyclese rice and minced meatballs, honey and chili sea sqynt , and salted kili-stuffed rolls.

He didn’t know why Gem had ordered Pyclese food, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“That is some good weed,” Gem said as he crossed the room and placed two water glasses on the coffee table. “I’m already feeling it.”

Glancing up, Rusty froze, mouth parting enough that the joint fell from between his lips and rolled across the coffee table.

He must have been feeling the weed too, because his brain had gone eerily blank, gaze catching and holding on Gem’s legs.

His long, long legs. They were bare and thick and covered in artful swirls of color he wished he could see.

Now, Rusty had seen Gem in booty shorts before. He’d seen him in mini-skirts and cocktail dresses. Hell, he’d technically seen Gem naked—though that had been when Gem was drugged and sick, so Rusty had done his best not to really look , wanting to offer Gem whatever privacy and dignity he could.

So this wasn’t the first time Rusty had seen Gem’s legs, but for some reason, the cloth booty shorts Gem had changed into were making his brain glitch.

They were a light color—yellow, Rusty thought—and so short he could see the slightest swell of Gem’s asscheeks.

They were nice, and Rusty wondered if the design of color on his thighs painted his ass as well.

He followed the color swirling down Gem’s thighs where it disappeared into the striped fur under his knees. He had pretty knees, which wasn’t something Rusty had ever noticed about a person before. But, yeah, Gem had nice knees, as knees went.

“Rus?”

Two hands landed on Gem’s hips, bringing attention to his cropped tank top that was either very old or purposefully frayed to appear worn.

It revealed Gem’s lean, smooth stomach and the jeweled piercing tucked into his belly button, and for the briefest of moments, Rusty wondered what that expanse of skin would feel like… or taste like.

Which was the weirdest, most horrifying thought he could ever think. What the actual fuck was in that weed?

“Rusty?” Gem said again, louder this time, and it jarred Rusty out of whatever drugged trance he’d fallen under.

“Huh? ”

Gem blinked his large eyes lazily. “You okay?”

Rusty nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“You sure? You’re looking at me like… Honestly, I don’t even know. You’ve never looked at me like that before,” Gem said, and heat prickled over Rusty’s scalp. “Are you mad at me? Did I order the wrong stuff? I thought you’d want Pyclese food.”

“The food’s fine. It’s good. Great, even. Everything looks”—Rusty’s gaze dropped, once again, to Gem’s legs—“great. You have nice knees. Did you know that?”

Gem blinked in a wave from left to right. “What?”

Honestly, Rusty wanted to ask himself the same question, because what ?

“Uh, nothing. I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

“Like what?” Gem asked, and Rusty shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just meant they’re objectively nice. Not everyone has nice knees, but you do. Just thought you should know,” Rusty said, and oh my gods, why was he still talking?

“Thank you?” Gem said, though his tone lifted at the end, making it almost a question.

“It’s no big deal. Don’t make it weird.” Rusty splayed his suddenly clammy palms. “Why are my hands so sweaty?”

Wrapping an arm around his middle, Gem burst into laughter, and Rusty scowled. Well, he tried to scowl, but Gem’s laugh was so happy and bubbly that he found himself smiling instead. He liked when Gem laughed and smiled and… Well, he just liked when Gem did all the things.

“I think,” Gem said around his giggles as he retrieved the joint from the coffee table with his lowest hand, “weed makes you honest. And I’m so here for it.”

“Oh no,” Rusty whined.

“Oh yes.” Gem beamed.

“Fuck,” Rusty said, tongue thick and cumbersome. “I didn’t smoke too much, did I?”

Slowly, Gem cupped Rusty’s face, thumbs rubbing through the fur on his cheeks. “How many hits did you take?”

“I dunno. A couple,” Rusty said, and Gem winced.

“Probably should have started out with just one to see how you reacted. That’s my bad.” Petting Rusty’s face and arms with two sets of hands, Gem smiled loosely down at him. “Don’t you worry, though. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Rusty inhaled Gem’s cinnamon and coffee scent, letting it set him at ease. “It is?”

“Yeah. We’ll put the joint away and let you come down a bit.” Gem made a show of setting the now unlit joint in the ashtray as he continued, “And I’m gonna be right here the whole time, keeping you safe like a godsdamned superhero.”

With a blinding grin, Gem bent and pecked the top of Rusty’s head, giving it a parting pat.

Then he sat down on the couch and took a bite of the kili-stuffed rolls.

Rusty stood, frozen again, mouth hanging ajar as his tail whipped erratically behind him.

Because Gem had just kissed him. Like it was nothing.

Like it was normal. And it made his whiskers twitch, and his hands were even more sweaty now.

“Sit down,” Gem said around his food. “You’re making me nervous.”

Lowering himself to the couch, Rusty took the half-eaten roll Gem offered him and shoved it into his mouth. The sweet, salty concoction burst over his tongue, and he groaned in appreciation, making Gem burst into another round of giggles.

They alternated between laughing profusely and eating, and when Rusty couldn’t swallow another bite for fear of exploding, he collapsed into the couch and sighed in contentment as his brain floated.

Somehow, Gem ended up on his back, head in Rusty’s lap as he played with Rusty’s hand.

He pressed their palms together, his fingers almost double the length of Rusty’s.

Bending them at the knuckles, he folded the tops of his fingers over the back of Rusty’s and cackled.

When he shifted his hand until their fingers laced, he grinned, like he was pleased with how they fit together, then laid their twined hands on his chest as he rambled. Rusty wasn’t sure what he was prattling on about, too busy staring at the place they were connected.

He felt the Araknis’s double heartbeat th-th-thunking against his palm, and Gem’s thumb was rubbing over the back of his hand, his sparkly nail polish catching the light with every stroke.

Gem touched him so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world to get close to him, and Rusty wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Sure, he was used to people grabbing at his tail to be suggestive or cruel, but they avoided his claws and his teeth—the parts that made him dangerous, that made him an animal, that made him a pito .

But Gem wasn’t scared of him, not even a little.

He traced the sharp edges of Rusty’s claws with his fingertips as he rambled about nothing, all stream of consciousness, like the idea of Rusty ever hurting him was so ridiculous it was unthinkable.

It made Rusty’s chest heat and tighten, even as his stomach went gooey. He’d never allowed himself to be bothered by the way people treated him. It was his lot in life, and caring just made it worse. It was why he kept his walls up all the time, so he could be safe behind them.

But here, with Gem, it was nice to let his guard down.

Because Gem didn’t care that he was a Pyclon, or that he’d worked Flesh Street, or that he was grouchy and boring and generally unpleasant to be around.

Despite everything, Gem seemed to genuinely like him, and it was as terrifying as it was wonderful.

“What’re you thinking about?” Gem asked after a fashion, two of his small eyes flitting over Rusty’s face.

“We’re holding hands,” Rusty said before he could stop himself, because weed really did make him honest, apparently. “Why are we holding hands?”

“I told you I get snuggly when I’m high,” Gem said with a playful smirk, wriggling even closer as if to prove his point. Resting his head against Rusty’s stomach, he sighed. “And you’re so comfy to cuddle with.”

“I am?”

Gem frowned. “Yeah. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

Rusty shook his head. “No one’s ever cuddled with me before.”

Okay, seriously? He was never getting high again if it meant he couldn’t stop his word vomit.

“That…” Gem sat up and scooched his ass back until he was nearly in Rusty’s lap, arms surrounding him until he was entirely caged in the Araknis’s limbs. “That is a travesty! You’re, like, the comfiest and deserve all the cuddles.”

“I don’t want all the cuddles,” Rusty said, swallowing thickly under the intensity of all eight of Gem’s eyes. “I don’t like people touching me.”

Sadness washed over Gem’s features, almost too quickly for Rusty to catch, but he leaned back. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Not you,” Rusty rushed out before Gem had gone too far. “I don’t mind if you… touch me. I mean, like this. It’s fine if you want to—’cause we’re friends. So it’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Gem chewed on his bottom lip and scrutinized Rusty closely. “Are you sure?” Not trusting his words, Rusty just nodded, and Gem’s smile returned. “Okay, good. ’Cause I really like cuddling with you. Your fur is so soft, and your snack pack is squishy.”

He gave Rusty’s tummy a loving pat, and Rusty scowled. “My what?”

“What?” Gem echoed vacantly as he snuggled back down, head against Rusty’s belly.

“Did you just call my stomach a snack pack?”

“No,” Gem said dubiously.

“Yeah, you did,” Rusty insisted, and Gem shook his head, turning his face into Rusty’s belly completely.

His voice came out muffled as he said, “I would never call your tummy your snack pack. Or your cookie jar. Or your cupcake clutch. I would never say that. Even if I think it,” he added quietly at the end, like he thought Rusty couldn’t hear him.

He probably should have been offended, but he was too distracted by the light gleaming off of Gem’s curls and the vibration of his voice in his belly fur. It… did things to him, and he wasn’t ready to decipher what those things were.

“Did you still wanna watch Chainsaw Man ?” Rusty asked as a distraction, and Gem shrugged, then nodded.

“Sure.” For a moment, he nuzzled deeper into Rusty’s belly, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Rusty’s cock twitched.

All the warm, gooey feelings fled in an instant, and every muscle in Rusty’s body locked as Gem sighed and slowly sat up.

“We probably should before it gets too late. I think I need another hit, though. For courage.”

Rusty tried to laugh along, but it came out strangled as he fought to banish the tingles taking up residence in his lower stomach and dick. He hadn’t reacted to another person like this in… He couldn’t remember. Maybe the last time he’d actually had sex, which had been years ago now .

As Gem lit the joint anew and inhaled deeply, Rusty closed his eyes and counted, refusing to give his dick or the tingling nerves a single encouraging thought.

It was probably just the weed anyway. Maybe it was an aphrodisiac?

Drugs tended to make people think things they wouldn’t normally think or want things they didn’t normally want, right?

Yeah, that made sense. It was just the weed. Rusty would sober up, and the confusing boner trying to form in his jeans would fade and never return. Because he and Gem were friends, and anything else, anything more, was a terrible idea.

When he’d reached a hundred and eighteen, he felt a hand flit over his shoulder, and his eyes shot open.

Gem sat beside him, grinning down at him as he offered him the smoldering end of the joint.

His eyes were hooded, his gray tongue tracing the tip of a small fang, and Rusty’s dick gave another twitch.

Well… shit.