Chapter eleven

Crazy Cow Closet

Gem

Gem was feeling good. His head was floaty and so blessedly quiet, and he was snuggled into Rusty's side, legs draped over the Pyclon’s lap as they watched the first episode of Chainsaw Man .

Well, Gem wasn’t exactly paying attention because it was rather bloody and sad so far.

There wouldn’t even be any anime boys kissing, so, like, what even was the point?

So he hugged Rusty’s left arm with all six of his—under the guise of being scared—as he took brief glances at the screen.

Ever since Gem had situated them in this position—because, sue him, he got snuggly when he was high—Rusty’s hand had been hovering over Gem’s thigh, not quite making contact, like he wasn’t sure if he should actually touch Gem or not.

His hesitance was cute and a little funny, but eventually, Gem took pity on him.

He covered Rusty’s hand with his lowest one and guided his clawed fingers to splay on his knee.

When Rusty’s thumb hesitantly dragged along the top of his knee, Gem sighed in pleasure and rested his head on Rusty’s shoulder.

The rough hide of Rusty’s paws and the prick of his claws on his skin had Gem’s leg and arm fur humming in satisfaction.

He felt Rusty’s gaze on the top of his head, but when he glanced up, the Pyclon seemed entirely captivated by the TV.

“You know,” Gem said as he blanketed the top of Rusty’s hand with his to show the size difference, “your hands are kinda small.”

“Maybe you just have big hands,” Rusty countered, voice thin and a little breathy.

“I have big everything,” Gem said before he’d thought better of it, then he wrinkled his nose and shuddered. “Ew, that sounded gross. I swear, I did not mean that as an innuendo. My dick’s not that big. Honest. If anything, it’s smaller than average.”

“Oh, well, that’s—” Rusty cleared his throat awkwardly. “That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with… that.”

Chuckling, Gem nuzzled Rusty’s shoulder, inhaling his wild musk and spicy tobacco scent mixed with the sweetness of the weed.

“I know. I’m not self-conscious about it.

It’s just how my body is, and I’m not gonna waste time and energy being insecure about something I can’t change.

Plus, it’s less about size and more about how you use it, and I’ve never had any complaints.

I’m a good top, even if it’s not my favorite—oh my gods, his head just turned into a chainsaw!

” he cried, cowering away from the television. “What the fuck is this show?”

With a tense laugh, Rusty patted Gem’s leg. “It's called Chainsaw Man . What exactly were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t his face literally turning into a chainsaw,” Gem said, angling his head to glare up at Rusty.

It brought their faces unexpectedly close, and Rusty inhaled sharply, pale eyes widening.

His gaze dropped momentarily to Gem’s mouth, and something tightened in Gem’s stomach.

He was too high to name it, but it sent a shiver down his spine all the same.

“We can turn it off,” Rusty offered, his breath fanning over Gem’s cheek. “We can watch anime boys kiss instead.”

Gem shook his head, giving Rusty’s arm a squeeze. “It’s fine. I’ll be super brave.” That brought a bark of laughter from the Pyclon, and Gem lifted a hand and scratched behind his ear. “I’m glad you’re here, by the way.”

An odd chitter vibrated in Rusty’s throat, not quite a purr but almost, and he turned back to the TV, hand flexing on Gem’s knee. “Uh, me too,” he whispered after a stretched silence, and the admission had Gem’s stomach somersaulting.

“Wanna stay over?” Gem asked a while later as the credits scrolled over the television. “I’ll make up the couch for you.”

It took Rusty several long seconds to answer, and disappointment curled through Gem’s chest at the coming rejection. But when Rusty murmured a soft, hesitant, “Okay,” heat speared through Gem’s veins.

With a pleased sigh, Gem took a long drag from the dwindling joint. “I love when friend dates turn into slumber parties.”

“I’ve never been to a slumber party,” Rusty admitted as he took the offered weed and brought it to his lips.

Gem’s head shot up so fast he had to blink several times to clear his head of vertigo. “That is entirely unacceptable!”

“Is it?” Rusty asked around the joint, and Gem nodded fiercely.

“Yes! We are going to change that tonight. We’re gonna have the best slumber party ever.

We’ll paint our nails and do face masks—oh wait, that would get clogged in your fur.

New plan!” he sang while he climbed to his feet, swaying slightly as his weed-addled brain struggled to catch up.

“Mani-pedis, girl-talk, pillow fights—scratch that last one; that sounds porny. We’re gonna gossip and talk about boys.

And girls,” he added, motioning to a now horrified looking Rusty. “You know, since you’re into pussy too.

“Not that body parts equal gender. That's not what I meant. But just because I can't talk about girls, doesn't mean I can’t talk about pussy. I’ve eaten boy-pussy before, and even though it was my first time and I wasn’t super good at it, I feel like my effort and enthusiasm made up for my lack of experience. He said he liked it, and I don’t think he was lying.

I made him come, at least, and that has to count for something.

“Then after, he strapped me with one of my favorite dildos, and, oh my gods, did he know what he was doing. We had such a fun night.” Gem sighed wistfully as the memories played through his mind, before he shook his head clear and shot Rusty a disapproving look.

“Wait, no, we’re doing this out of order!

We can’t talk about boys until we’re in our jammies and painting each other’s nails. ”

“Why are you yelling at me? I’m not even talking,” Rusty said defensively.

“Bup, bup, bup.” Gem shushed him as he grabbed him by the wrists and hauled him up. “Jammie time. Let’s go.”

After much bickering and cajoling, Gem finally talked Rusty into donning his juicy shorts again since he hadn’t brought his own pajamas.

While he changed in the bathroom, Gem dumped his box of makeup supplies on the bed and arranged the nail polish by color.

He had two shades of black—one glittery, one matte—but he was hoping Rusty would let him use at least one color.

Maybe on his pinky toe claw or something.

“I still don’t understand why I have to be in pajamas for this,” Rusty griped as he rounded the room partition, wearing the shorts and his cut-off black t-shirt, smoldering joint dangling precariously from between his lips.

“Because it’s practically a rule. Slumber party aesthetic and all that,” Gem explained for what had to have been the thousandth time, and Rusty blinked sardonically, nose wrinkling. Sniffing, Gem crossed his lowest arms over his torso and scowled. “It’s for the vibes, Rus!”

“Gross,” Rusty said as he dropped his jeans into a heap on the floor, whiskers twitching as he studied the array of nail polish. “The nail polish I can get behind, but I’m not letting you do my makeup.”

With a snort, Gem waved him over. “With all your fur, the makeup wouldn’t work anyway. Though I have a special shampoo with glitter in it, if ever you’re feeling frisky.”

Leaning one hand on the bed, Rusty used his other to hold out of the smoldering stub of marijuana. “Pass.”

As Gem captured the joint between his lips, the rough pads of Rusty’s fingers grazed his chin, and Rusty’s eyes once again dropped to Gem’s mouth. For a moment, Gem swore Rusty’s pheromones thickened in the air between them, and he smiled smugly around the joint.

Whiskers twitching, Rusty tore his gaze away and grumbled under his breath as he hesitantly crawled onto the bed.

He sat down across from Gem, legs curling underneath him as his tail thumped anxiously against the mattress.

His belly spilled over the waistband of the shorts, framed beautifully by his cut-off shirt, and Gem barely resisted the urge to reach out and give it a rub.

He had a feeling Rusty would hiss at him if he tried.

Or maybe he’d purr. Gem liked it when Rusty did that, and for a moment, he wondered what else he could do to get the Pyclon purring. Which was entirely inappropriate and upsetting, because this was Rusty, and thinking about Rusty like that was… wrong.

“Is it, though?” his stoned, asshole brain asked.

“Yes!” he snapped back .

“Yes, what?” Rusty said, because apparently Gem had spoken aloud.

“Huh?”

“You just shouted, ‘yes,’ out of nowhere,” Rusty said, and Gem’s cheeks warmed.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Gem sniffed haughtily, and Rusty frowned in confusion. Before he could reply, Gem smoothly changed the subject. “ Anyway , what color do you want on your nails?”

“Black,” Rusty said definitively, and Gem pouted.

“Boo, that’s boring. Can I at least use the sparkly black on some of them?” Gem held up the glittering black polish, and Rusty shrugged.

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?”

Rusty scratched behind his ear. “Slumber party aesthetic, right?”

With a happy squeal, Gem wriggled in place as he used numerous hands to uncap both the matte and sparkly black polish, then he extended two palms in invitation. “Time for manicures and girl-talk.”

“Do we have to do girl-talk?” Rusty asked, and Gem shot him a warning glare, making him back down quickly, both hands raised in surrender. “Okay, fine. We’ll do girl-talk.”

“Good boy,” Gem purred, wiggling his fingers. “Now, gimme!”

With a huff, Rusty placed both his hands into Gem’s waiting ones, and Gem proceeded to paint Rusty’s claws, alternating between the matte and glitter polishes. Since Rusty was unaccustomed to girl-talk, Gem took the lead on that front.

“Okay, so you can’t tell anyone, but Toni and Jude have, like, a thing,” Gem whispered as he slicked glossy black across Rusty’s middle nail. “Not a real thing, but more of a F.W.B. thing.”