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Chapter nineteen

Cowabunga

Gem

Oh gods, Rusty was kissing him. He was kissing Rusty. They were kissing. And it was good. Deities, was it good.

It was unhurried and indulgent. Rusty was careful, bordering on tentative, mapping Gem’s lips like never before discovered territory.

When Gem kissed him back deeper, firmer, Rusty gasped, fingers flexing on Gem’s neck.

He surrendered to Gem, going somewhat limp in his hold, and oh, Gem liked that very much.

He sifted hands through the fur on Rusty’s side and framed his face to keep him close. He led the kiss, and Rusty followed, tripping every now and then, like he didn’t know the steps as well as Gem did. Rusty’s rhythm was unpracticed, and the apparent lack of experience surprised him.

Sure, Rusty’s old line of work probably hadn’t prioritized kissing, but in the past six years, he’d had to have kissed people. Right? Judging from the hesitant way Rusty touched him, Gem questioned that assumption. Maybe Rusty hadn’t, which meant maybe he hadn’t slept with many people either.

Some primal part of Gem roared in satisfaction at that thought, but he tamped it down.

If Rusty was inexperienced—at least, in this sense—Gem needed to be careful.

He needed to go slow. He would make this good, show Rusty what pleasure was supposed to feel like.

After everything that had been taken from him, Gem wanted to give back. Generously.

He was, after all, a humanitarian.

Gem eased the pressure of their kiss, allowing Rusty to catch up, and he lightened the touch of his hands even more.

The grip on Gem’s neck was tight, claws digging in deliciously, and Rusty’s other paw tangled in Gem’s shirt.

He was breathing harder now, chasing Gem’s mouth, shifting restlessly on the bed between Gem’s splayed knees.

The storm raged outside, periodic flashes of lightning skittering across the walls, casting Gem in Rusty’s shadow. They kissed like they had all the time in the world to enjoy it, like it was the only goal, like kissing Gem was Rusty’s sole purpose of existence.

Gem kept waiting for Rusty to touch him more suggestively, to slip his fingers under Gem’s shirt or grab his ass, but he didn’t. Rusty simply cradled Gem’s face in his hands, holding him so tenderly, like he was something to be treasured, something to be cherished.

Now, Gem didn’t need gentle handling. He loved a good spanking or a solid hair-pulling while getting fucked within an inch of his life. Given the right mood, Gem could even get behind some good-natured choking.

But the way Rusty kissed him now made his insides turn gooey and his limbs grow heavy.

It made him want to wrap Rusty up in all of his arms and hide away under their blanket fort so no one could ever find them.

He wanted to lie on the same pillow and whisper secrets as Rusty drew lazy designs over his arms with his claws.

He wanted breakfast in bed and sharing the sink while they brushed their teeth and reading the newspaper together as they drank coffee.

Oh gods, Gem wanted everything. Pillow talk and promises and, “how about we spend the holidays with my parents this year?” and finding gray hairs amidst Rusty’s whiskers and scolding him when he didn’t wear his glasses because, “your eyes aren’t what they used to be, darling.”

He wanted years. He wanted forever. For the first time in his life, Gem wanted to be chosen; he wanted to be kept.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rusty murmured, the words dancing across Gem’s parted mouth. “You’re more beautiful than the rain and the stardust and the desert combined.”

Gem’s eyes fluttered open, his throat cinching tight as Rusty’s thumbs fanned adoringly over his cheeks. The Pyclon was smiling. It was achingly soft, but there was a sorrow there Gem didn’t understand.

Then he said, “People like me don’t deserve beautiful things, Gem.”

And oh, oh, oh , that split Gem right down the middle.

“People like you deserve every beautiful thing,” he said, drawing Rusty closer until their chests brushed. Rusty looped his arms around Gem’s neck, and their foreheads met. “And until you believe it for yourself, I’ll decide what you deserve.”

Rusty’s reflective eyes blinked rapidly, but he nodded. Just once. “Okay.”

When Rusty kissed him again, Gem hummed and eased backward onto the mattress, bringing the Pyclon with him.

Propped above him, one knee between his legs, Rusty deepened the kiss, the roughness of his tongue rasping over Gem’s in a tentative glide, growing more confident when Gem hummed his pleasure.

He tasted smoky and spicy, and Gem wanted to feast on him. He didn’t. He followed Rusty’s lead, keeping their kisses gentle and, dare he say, romantic. Sure, his dick was hard as stone, prehensiles flexing, barbs flaring, but he let the burn settle.

They kissed for ages, Rusty hovering above him, their chests brushing now and then.

At some point, he shifted his knee higher, accidentally making contact with Gem’s hard-on, and they both gasped.

Rusty froze, breaking away from Gem’s mouth as he panted, wide eyes glinting strangely in the moonlight.

“Oh,” he said, and Gem smiled a little bashfully.

“Sorry. I swear it’s a compliment. You’re a very good kisser.”

With a snuffled laugh, Rusty looked away, throat clicking. Then his hand shifted down to the hem of Gem’s long sleepshirt. “I can—”

As much as Gem wanted Rusty to touch him, as much as he wanted to touch Rusty, he stopped him with a gentle but unyielding grip of his wrist. “It’s okay.

That’s not what this is about. Not tonight.

” The Pyclon cocked his head in confusion, notched ear folding down, and Gem cupped his face in his upper hands.

“I want you, Rusty, but we’ve got time.”

“I want you too,” Rusty admitted, and Gem’s belly tightened in anticipation.

“That’s real good, and one day, we can do something about that. If you want to,” he added with a significant look. “But tonight, I just want you to kiss me.”

Like he still didn’t understand, Rusty frowned but leaned down to kiss him. Gem wrapped his many limbs around him, holding him tight and secure as he kissed him back. Rusty would fuck him if Gem asked him to, and he would make it good because he had the skills. But Gem didn’t want to rush .

Rusty was used to offering his body like it was some commodity, like he was something to be ordered off a menu and consumed at the patron’s leisure.

Rusty would give because he was accustomed to other’s taking, but Gem didn’t want to be another taker.

Rusty deserved more than that; he deserved to be worshiped and cared for and prioritized.

Gem wanted to show Rusty what it meant to share in pleasure, and if they jumped right into sex, he feared what that would communicate.

He didn’t want Rusty to feel used. Gem wanted all of Rusty, not just his dick.

Though, yes, he did really want his dick.

Gem had a feeling it would be a nice dick, one he would very much enjoy riding.

But it wasn’t about sex, not tonight.

So when Rusty kissed him deeply, claws digging into his skin through his shirt, Gem hummed in contentment, relishing the sting. “This is enough,” Gem whispered against Rusty’s lips. “You’re enough, ashari.”

With an almost wounded noise, Rusty buried his face in Gem’s neck and shuddered. Wrapping his arms around the Pyclon, Gem tightened his hold, never wanting this moment to end.

When Gem woke the next morning, the storm had passed, but his sleep-heavy brain swore he could still taste the static magic in the air.

Blissful and content, he slowly approached consciousness, replaying the tender kisses Rusty had left on his lips and the designs his claws had painted over Gem’s brow and cheeks the night before.

With a sigh, Gem turned over and stretched out his hand, expecting to meet silky, warm fur. Instead he found cold, empty sheets, and disappointment doused his glow of happiness instantly. His eyes shot open, and he sat up in a rush, frowning at the rumpled but clearly empty bed.

Rusty was gone.

Pain lanced through Gem’s chest, and he gasped through it, bundling the sheets in his hands. It wasn’t like this was new. He was very used to waking alone, his hook-ups offering excuses about their jobs or their obligations… or their wives. And he’d never let it hurt before.

But this? Yeah, this hurt.

He sniffed, blinking through the sudden burn in his eyes, and smelled spicy tobacco smoke.

His hearts stuttered, then tripped into overdrive as he scrambled from the bed and around his room partition.

The window to the fire escape was open, and Rusty was in the middle of climbing through it, crushing a cigarette butt against the brick outside.

He glanced up, pale eyes meeting Gem’s, and he smirked a crooked smile. “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“You’re here,” Gem said stupidly, and Rusty’s brows furrowed. “I mean, of course you’re here. There you are standing in my flat. I just thought you weren’t here. Because I woke up, and you weren’t in bed, so I thought you left.

“Which would have been fine,” he blurted as Rusty’s furrow deepened. “You’re not obligated to stay, of course. Not that I didn’t want you to. I did. I do! I’m so glad you stayed. I just would have understood if you hadn’t. Because you’re probably really busy. With things. And stuff.”

Rusty was smiling now, watching Gem ramble like he was the most precious pippy he’d ever seen. It made Gem feel warm and gooey inside and might have made his asshole quiver a little. Gods, Gem was already gone for his man, wasn’t he? And he hadn’t even touched Gem’s asshole yet.

Which was kind of new. Gem tended to fuck first and, in very rare circumstances, get feelings later. Doing it in the opposite order had him all flustered and discombobulated.

“I don’t have things,” Rusty said, still smiling as he slowly approached. “Or stuff.”

Gem fidgeted. “Oh.”