Preston sat down with his tablet in his lap, scrolling the internet for articles on "demisexuality" while Antoine took a shower.

It was all terribly confusing. In Preston's rather direct mind, there were only two sexual orientations: straight and gay. Possibly three, if you counted "bisexual," though he tended to think of that as a synonym for "confused."

Then again, it had been several years since he sat down to look up sexuality on the internet. It appeared a great deal had changed. Pansexuality? What on earth even was that? Preston shook his head. It was all very confusing. "Whatever happened to just being gay?" Preston muttered in annoyance as he scrolled through yet another webpage.

He was so focused on reading that he hadn't even heard the shower stop, didn't notice until Antoine sauntered into the living room wearing cargo shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, and flopped down on the couch. "Whatcha reading, Preppy?" he asked, craning his neck over Preston's shoulder.

Preston pulled the tablet away. "Nothing! I'm reading nothing."

Antoine folded his arms behind his head. "Looks to me like you're reading about different sexualities and stuff."

"Maybe I am," Preston replied, annoyed. "What of it? I'm trying to understand you."

Antoine scratched his head. "Or you could just ask me. Really, I've got no shame, and definitely no secrets around you. So go ahead, ask away. I'm not some encyclopedia, so I can't speak for other people, but I can at least speak for me.

Preston sighed and put down the tablet. He felt oddly awkward discussing such a topic with Antoine. Still, if he had to consider where their friendship was going. What was it now anyways? Not platonic anymore; but they weren't exactly physical either. Antoine's phrase of "hetero lifemate" didn't fit any better.

"Okay," Preston began, taking a deep breath. "What's this all mean for you?"

Antoine shrugged. "Well, basically, I'm not particularly into anyone. I might see someone who I think looks good-"

"-Like those girls at the Lucky Lady who you're always talking about getting phone numbers from?"

"Eh, that's more of a normalcy thing. I'm not really interested in getting anyone's phone number, but I can appreciate the aesthetics of the female form."

"But you're not into women?"

Antoine shrugged.

"So you're into men," Preston reasoned.

Antoine shook his head. "No, not so much. I'm not really into anyone. That's kind of the point."

Preston remembered another term he'd read on the internet. "So… asexual?"

Antoine blushed slightly. "Do you really need to ask that after last night?" he scoffed.

Now it was Preston's turn to blush. "Probably not," he muttered, face turning beet red.

Antoine laughed good-naturedly. "I didn't think so." He looked at the ceiling, regarded the fan thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to Preston. "No. I'm sort of in the middle between the two. I'm not attracted to anyone on the surface, per se. But once I get to know someone, then I can find myself quite attracted to them." He held up a hand. "However, since I'm generally not interested in getting to know anyone, the issue's irrelevant. And I stay single. Which I'm fine with."

Preston nodded, trying to digest Antoine's words.

"So, when you say you're 'aromantic,' what's that mean?" Preston asked.

Antoine chuckled. "Well, according to the internet, the source of all knowledge and wisdom, it means someone who doesn't get crushes. You know, the light on your feet, butterflies in the stomach stuff that your novels seem to be full of."

Preston shook his head. "You held hands with me."

"Yes."

"But that doesn't mean anything to you."

Antoine raised a finger in objection. "Wrong, Prep. It means a lot, but it's because I'm holding hands with you. If it was someone else, or I didn't have this bond with you, then it wouldn't mean a thing." He shrugged. "Inherently romantic activities," he made quotation marks in the air, "they simply aren't interesting for me. Or, when I do the so-called romantic activities, I don't feel romantic about it."

"That doesn't really make sense to me," Preston confessed.

Antoine shrugged. "It doesn't have to. All I'm getting at is, regardless of my past adventures, I don't feel an emotional need to be in a romantic relationship; and to even consider an intimate, or potentially romantic relationship, I have to already feel some sort of bond, a connection, with someone."

Antoine paused and thought for a moment. "You know how most people see someone they think looks attractive, get tingly for that person, then decide to start a relationship? Isn't that how it usually works?"

Preston didn't have much experience in such matters. Thought he'd dated in college, he'd never settled into anything "serious." He thought about his own feelings towards Antoine. It made sense. He'd, in spite of himself, started checking Antoine out, then getting to know him better between work and nights the work crew would meet for drinks at the nearby bar… It was a gradual series of steps to finally coming and curling up together some nights; but it seemed to follow the process Antoine outlined as 'normal.'

"Yes, I know that process," he replied carefully.

Antoine stretched an arm across the back of the couch behind Preston's shoulders. "Well, for me it kinda works in reverse. I find myself getting to know someone, usually inadvertently. And from that, if we're lucky a friendship starts to develop. And then, if I'm very lucky, I wind up feeling warm-fuzzies and attracted to that person." Antoine's arm slid down around Preston's neck. "It generally doesn't get that far though. Pretty much never. And that's probably some of my hang-ups right there. I don't feel comfortable with that level of emotional intimacy in a relationship long before the idea of physical intimacy even enters the equation."

Preston wasn't sure what to say. He folded his hands in his lap, and looked down. "Oh," was all he could manage to say.

Antoine's warm hand was on his neck, giving him a friendly shake. "What's with the long face, Prep?"

Preston wrung his hands together. "It's just… well… what does this mean for us?"

"Us?" Antoine repeated, curious.

Preston nodded. "Yes. I mean, where do we go from here?" It was something he was afraid to ask, but it was something he could not ignore.

Antoine shook his head. "I really don't understand the question."

"Does this mean you're not attracted to me?" He looked up, regarding Antoine wistfully.

Antoine furrowed his brow for a minute, then gave a chuckling snort. He covered his mouth, and laughed full behind his hand, eyes shining.

Preston watched, hopelessly confused.

"Oh my sweet, innocent, naïve little PreppyDog," Antoine laughed, throwing his arms around Preston and pulling the thin man against his chest. "Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?" He grinned and ruffled Preston's hair. "I am completely attracted to you, Prep! To you," he gave Preston a squeeze for emphasis. "It's not your clothes, or your hair, or your body, or any of that. It's what's in here," he tapped Preston's chest, just above the heart; "and what's in here!" He tapped Preston's forehead. "That, the very parts that make you you are what attract me to the entire package!"

Preston felt himself relaxing into Antoine's bear hug. It was rough, and tender, and enthusiastic all in one. He closed his eyes happily. Much to his shock, he felt Antoine's lips on his cheek.

"It wouldn't matter if your clone came prancing naked down the street, I wouldn't give that mimic a second glance. And you, well, if there is an 'us' like you mentioned, then it won't matter if you get old and grey or fat and bald, because you'll still be Preston 'Preppy' Tucci, and that's why I like you so!"

Preston made a happy, squeaky sigh; cradled against Antoine's soft flank.

"Maybe we have sex, maybe we don't. Maybe this goes somewhere, maybe it doesn't. I don't know, it's almost not important to me. I mean it is… but the most important thing is having you. Because I like you, and I enjoy your company. I like the way you fill the house. I like knowing you're around."

Preston felt Antoine pushing him up for a moment. He opened his eyes. Antoine's face was peering into his, expression kind. "For the record, I'm not interested in anyone else but you, in any way; and I'd be utterly devastated if you decided to start seeing someone else. We might not be a couple exactly, but yeah… we're us. And I like that… you know?"

Preston wrapped his hands around Antoine's arms, holding them tight. Preston might not know what Antoine was feeling right at that moment, but he knew what he was feeling: that same-said light and airy feeling. Butterflies in the stomach; giddy with anticipation. "I understand now," he replied, his heart fluttering in his chest.

They drew one another close and kissed, once, quickly on the lips. Antoine wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, blushed, then laughed. His eyes twinkled.

Preston gave Antoine a gentle poke in the side. " 'Hey Mikey, I think he likes it,'" he replied with a wink.

It was clear his use of pop culture quotations caught Antoine off guard. Those blue eyebrows raised in surprise, then he dropped his head and chuckled warmly. "See, you do get it." He pulled Preston against him once again, and ran his fingers through Preston's short, wavy hair.

Preston buried his face against Antoine's side and made a happy sound. He gets it, indeed, he thought blissfully.