Page 31

“The others better get here fast because I’m officially turning to mush,” he whined, glaring at a gaggle of giggling children who ran past, kicking sand onto Gem’s towel. “Watch it, ankle-biters!”

With a snort, Rusty unbuttoned his baggy, black jeans and shoved them down to reveal an equally black pair of loose board shorts. “You know sand is unavoidable when you’re at the beach, right?”

“It’s not the sand. It’s the kids. ”

“Kids are also unavoidable when you’re at the beach.”

“If I wanted children in my general vicinity, I’d birth some,” Gem sniffed haughtily.

Rusty wrinkled his nose, whiskers twitching. “You pregnant sounds like a nightmare.”

“You’re telling me! If it was actually physically possible for me to be impregnated, I would probably kill myself,” Gem said, lying back on the elbows of his lowest arms, stretching his toebeans, tarsal claws flexing.

“Toni loves kids. He’d probably have a baker’s dozen if given the opportunity. Could never be me.”

“Same. I can’t imagine bringing a kid into this shitty world,” Rusty said as he lowered himself to the towel beside him.

Head lolling, Gem studied Rusty through the yellowish tint of his sunglasses. “That’s altruistic. My reasons for not having kids are entirely selfish. I love my life too much to give it up for some smelly, sticky spawn.”

Like he was fighting a laugh, Rusty coughed roughly, then cleared his throat. “I don’t think all kids are sticky.”

“I’m the oldest of seventeen.” Gem slid his sunglasses down his nose and levelled Rusty with an intense stare. “Trust me when I say that all children are sticky.”

Rusty balked. “Seventeen? Unholy shit.”

With a shrug, Gem centered his sunglasses and tilted his head toward the sky.

“Yeah, I’m assuming my parents just don’t have hobbies beyond fucking all the time.

My youngest sibling is three, and Mymi is pregnant again and about ready to lay.

So in, like, two months, there’s gonna be more infants skittering around, slobbering everywhere.

And anytime that happens, Yma gets baby fever, so then she’ll probably wanna have more too, and on and on the cycle goes. It’s disgusting, honestly. ”

Propped on his elbow, Rusty lay on his side, facing him fully. “Who’s Mymi and Yma?”

“My other moms. My parents are a polycule. Have I never told you that?” Rusty shook his head, and Gem hummed in surprise, then held up four fingers. “Well, Maman is the one who birthed my egg sac, and Mymi and Yma are also my moms; I just didn’t come out of their bodies. And then there’s my dad.

“On the surface, it’s so ick because of patriarchy and shit, but seeing as my dad is almost as femme as me and definitely the bottom in the relationship, I feel like it’s hella progressive.”

At Rusty’s befuddled, somewhat dubious expression, Gem doubled down.

“Like, for real, I’m pretty sure the only time my dad ever tops my moms is when they wanna procreate.

” He paused, then backtracked. “You know what, not even then. They probably use one of those gourmet baster thingies when they wanna get knocked up. Just shoot that shit right up to the baby maker.”

Rusty swallowed thickly, looking somewhat ill. “Sometimes, I really, really hate the things you say.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m right there with you,” Gem commiserated. “I went a bit too far with the baster-thing. I even gave myself the ick.”

To his surprise and delight, Rusty burst into rough laughter as he rolled onto his back, one leg stretched out, the other cocked, knee pointing to the sky.

His tail fanned out in the space between them, the end thumping against the towel with amusement.

Sneakily, Gem ran the fingers of his middle hand over the coarser hairs there, keeping his touch light so Rusty wouldn’t catch him.

“Seventeen kids and four parents,” Rusty said as his chuckles faded. “That explains so much.”

Joining Rusty on his back, Gem angled his prone body to bring their shoulders within kissing distance.

“About me? I know, right? It’s no wonder I’m queer as fuck, hella openminded, and am always raging against the machine.

I was literally born into anarchy and free love.

Don’t get me wrong; they’re good parents.

Not perfect, but still kind of the best.”

Rusty’s responding smile was small but soft. “I’m glad you have them.”

Gem was too, and he hated that Rusty didn’t. It was unfair that Gem had three moms, while Rusty’s one had been taken away from him so young. Carefully, so carefully, Gem said, “You know, if you ever need to borrow a mom, just ask. I have three, so there’s plenty to go around.”

Air whistled through Rusty’s nose on his sharp inhale, and his eyes tightened around the edges as he turned his head to face Gem. He feared he’d said the wrong thing, as he tended to do, but before he could apologize, Rusty stretched out a paw and ran a single knuckle down the side of Gem’s throat.

It was a barely there touch, over and done in the blink of an eye, but it sent Gem’s hearts sprinting into overdrive.

Rusty never initiated touch between them, not really.

He’d endure Gem’s cuddles. Sometimes, he’d reciprocate, but he hardly ever initiated.

And though Gem didn’t know what that touch meant, it felt significant.

Rusty’s hand returned to rest on his stomach. It tightened, then released. Tightened, then released. Then he said, “Thanks, Gem.”

Their faces were close enough that Gem felt Rusty’s words breeze over his chin, and Gem nearly shivered as he breathed out, “Anytime.”

Keeping most of his focus on Rusty’s pale eyes, Gem stealthily studied his mouth with two small eyes.

In the past, he hadn’t paid much attention to Rusty’s mouth, but it was nice.

Thin lips surrounded by short fur that, judging from how clean and conditioned Rusty kept the rest, would be silky soft.

Gem had never considered what kissing Rusty would be like, but ever since that stupid crush had taken root, he’d been curious.

He wondered if Rusty’s whiskers would poke his cheeks or if he’d taste as spicy and smoky as he smelled.

Would the kisses be fast or slow, firm or gentle?

Gem had a feeling the kiss would be intense and electric, like basking in the eye of the hurricane.

Rusty reminded Gem of a thunderstorm. The intense charge in the air. The rumbling thunder that made his bones quake. The pregnant pause before the wild explosion. Controlled chaos. Oh, but when it broke loose, it would be one hell of a ride.

Not to mention, Rusty had skills. He’d worked Flesh Street for years, so he would know exactly what he was doing.

And for his part, Gem was practically a sexual prodigy.

He had six hands and was incredible at multi-tasking, he was enthusiastic as fuck, and he was hella open-minded. He’d try just about anything once.

Unholy shit, the sex would be unreal. They’d probably shatter the veil between worlds. It would be too good. Their sex would be so fire that it would bring about the apocalypse. Dear gods, for the sake of the universe, they could never fuck. It would be entirely irresponsible.

“Gem?” Rusty said, and deities, he liked the way Rusty’s lips formed his name. “What’s wrong with your fur?”

Tearing his gaze away from Rusty’s mouth, Gem blinked in a wave and shook loose the inappropriate porn reel suddenly playing through his brain. “What? ”

“Your fur just got all poofy. Are you feeling okay?” Rusty asked in concern, and Gem squeaked, sitting up and desperately trying to flatten his traitorous arm and leg fur.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he said, face flushed—not from the temperature this time.

“Are you sure? You’re not getting heat stroke, right? You should drink some water,” Rusty said.

“No, I’m not—it’s fine, really. It’s just ’cause I’m… sweaty,” he said, cringing at that because being sweaty was not very sexy. “I mean, the heat. It makes my fur poofy sometimes and has absolutely nothing to do with anything else.”

A water bottle appeared in front of Gem, and the back of Rusty’s hand brushed his shoulder. “Here. Have some—”

“No!” Gem shrieked, batting his hand away, and Rusty jerked back with an offended chitter. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“What did I do?” Rusty demanded.

“Oh you know what you did,” Gem tugged on the skirt of his swimsuit bottoms to ensure Rusty didn’t catch sight of his half-chub. “You need to shut it the fuck down right this fucking minute.”

“What?” Rusty cried, tail flicking in annoyance.

“We have to protect the universe,” Gem wailed, and Rusty looked, impossibly, even more confused.

“Stop yelling at me!” He chucked the water bottle at Gem’s chest, face pinching in frustration. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Since Gem didn’t want to admit that he’d technically been contemplating the sex-pocalypse that would take place should they ever smash, he said, “Then just trust me when I say that I currently have the fate of the universe resting on my sexy but no less durable shoulders, and I am not built for that kind of pressure!”

As Rusty gaped at him, Gem unscrewed the bottle and chugged half the water as he mentally threatened his dick with celibacy should it get any more stupid ideas.

Thankfully, the arrival of Toni, Oliver, and Liel interrupted the awkward moment, and Gem forced his prehensiles back to their proper place inside his body as his cock softened enough that he could stand without pitching a tent.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Gem said earnestly, pulling Oliver and Toni into an enthusiastic hug.

“No, it’s too hot,” Toni complained, extricating himself from Gem’s limbs. “I need to get in the water before I combust.”

“You’re not wrong,” Oliver said, though he patted Gem’s back and didn’t fight the embrace. “I can’t remember ever being this hot before.”

“It’s not that bad,” Liel said primly, even as he wiped sweat off his brow, his thick, brown locks of hair sticking to his shiny cheeks.

At the others’ appearance, Rusty retreated back into himself, the walls that came down when it was just the two of them returning in full force.

Usually, Gem preferred hanging out with Rusty one-on-one precisely to break down those barriers, but given his recent crush-issue and the way his body had utterly betrayed him, Gem really needed a buffer or two. Eight was going to be even better.

As Toni, Oliver, and Liel stripped down to their swimsuits, Gem poked Rusty’s hip with his toebean. “We’re going in the water. You coming?”

Cracking one eye open, Rusty peered up at him, shielding his face from the sunlight with a paw. “Nah, I’ll stay and watch our stuff. ”

“Oh.” Gem nibbled on his bottom lip as he backed toward the others, hoping his earlier, irrational outburst wasn’t the reason for Rusty’s refusal. “That’s boring.”

Liel released an undignified noise as Oliver scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder. “Oliver Barnes, you put me down right now!”

The human simply laughed, then slapped Liel’s ass. “You’re coming with me, Mr. Karakis.”

With a whoop, Oliver ran toward the dark water, carrying Liel with him, and they both shrieked as they crashed down into the lazy waves. Toni was right on their heels, though he dove into the sea with much more grace, not surfacing for a while.

Gem wanted to join them, but he knelt down beside Rusty first and poked his arm. “Don’t be cranky. Come swim.”

“I’m not cranky,” Rusty said without removing his arm from over his eyes. “I just don’t want to swim.”

“Please?” Gem poked him again, then again. “Please, please, pretty please?”

Rusty’s tail thumped against the sand, his ears twitching as he muttered, almost bitterly, “I can’t, Gem.”

“Why not? I brought a blow dryer to help dry out our fur before we have to take the tram back. And no one steals other people’s shit at the beach,” Gem said, poking Rusty’s hip this time. “It’s like an unspoken agreement amongst beach-goers.”

“That’s not—” Rusty’s jaw worked, then he shifted his arm above his head, pale eyes guarded. “I don’t know how. I grew up at The Point, remember? And we didn’t travel much, so I never learned.”

He spoke with so much embarrassment it made Gem’s hearts hurt. “Well, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. We can stay in the shallows. Or I could teach you how to swim, if you want.”

Sitting up, Rusty studied Gem, then Oliver, Liel, and Toni out in the water. “What if they… laugh?”

Slowly, giving Rusty time to stop him, he took Rusty’s paw in two of his hands. “Well, I don’t think they will because they’re not assholes. If anything, they’ll probably offer to help. But if they were to laugh at you, I’ll punch them in the scrotum.

“Okay, not Liel, because he doesn’t have a scrotum, so I’ll have to punch him in the slit. But that doesn’t even matter, because they won’t laugh.” He gave Rusty’s hand a squeeze. “I’m not the only one you can trust, you know. You just have to give them a chance.”

Several minutes passed as Rusty thought, and Gem remained quiet beside him, giving him the time. At long last, he gave a jerky nod.

“We can stay in the shallows at first, right?” he clarified, the first tremble of fear leaking through his voice, and Gem’s chest squeezed painfully.

“Of course. We won’t go any deeper than what you’re comfortable with. And if you want me to teach you how to float or tread water, I totally will.”

With a fortifying breath, Rusty nodded again. “O-okay.”

Together, they climbed to their feet, and Rusty trudged after Gem like a man heading to a funeral. Knowing he’d take it the wrong way, Gem swallowed his snickers as he took several steps into the chilly water.

Behind him, Rusty came to a halt, claws digging into the wet sand where the sea lapped lazily. His tail whipped erratically behind him and his ears flattened against his head in fear. He fisted his board shorts, fingers fidgeting .

Gem didn’t speak. He simply stretched out his lowest arm and offered Rusty his hand. Frightened pale eyes lifted to Gem’s, and Rusty’s throat clicked. But then determination furrowed his bushy brows, and he cautiously slipped his paw into Gem’s waiting palm.

The twin hearts in his chest tripped over themselves as Gem beamed at the Pyclon, squishing his fingers. Then he tugged gently and stepped back, leading Rusty into the sea.