Posting this for ace week! I wrote this back when the movie first came out, out of pure self indulgence. Every character is queer except Diane. I knew I wanted to see this movie before it even came out! Anyway, here's the low down, in case you don't wanna read it: Wolf is a kinky biromantic libidoist asexual, Webs is a repulsed ace lesbian, Shark is nblm genderfluid and uses any/all pronouns, and everyone else is unlabeled. They're all in a polyamorous qpr. I tried writing them in character and realistic. I also wanted to use this fic to bring to light some dif parts of the asexual community.
I don't normally do sex scenes, but there are two intimate ones in this. Stay safe! They're easily skippable! The characters ask for consent!
Of course I didn't notice until Diane pointed it out. Well, that's a lie; I notice everything. I hadn't noticed anything was unusual about it until she pointed it out. It was just how we were. Except Webs. She wasn't into the whole touchy-feely thing. Maybe because she was too small to even be able to join in on the fun, or maybe it was because she just straight up didn't groove with it. Whichever it was, we made sure to not gang up on her about it. And why would we? Snake wasn't very fond of all the hugs and kisses either, but the difference here was that Snake never actually dissented to it. I vividly remember watching from the our newly-stolen, sandy-colored, linen couch back at our old and gorgeous, previously decked out warehouse(I still miss that sexy gold-filled palace), having just came back from a highly successful raid, as Shark plopped down on the adjacent (also stolen, but from a different place) couch, extremely satisfied and, apparently, fluffy as he downed a bottle of sparkling water and giddily cuddled Snake to him. Snake, despite their new prized possessions, had been grumpy since they'd first gotten in the car and his mood over an earlier bad-taste joke had persisted even after we'd gotten home. The afternoon had only come to mind recently because of Diane's mumbled observation once we'd exited the elevator to the new apartment the crew and I were now lounging in. Her casual, "You know, you guys are terribly close; you'd think you were all dating each other", and then me, confused, then the flashback:
Sharks's one arm around Snake, wrapped loosely in the spring of his one single limb, with Shark's other hand holding Snake's jaw up facing towards him. His eyes were bright and sultry, as they usually were after a successful get, in complete contrast to Snake's obvious annoyance. He cooed like an owl, voice soft and almost drunk. "Come on, baby..! You know we didn't mean it. You love us."
Snake rolled his eyes, even as Shark pressed his face against his in a gentle kiss. He let him, didn't pull away in the slightest, although it was evident from where I sat that he wasn't kissing back. Shark, though, was being awfully soft for his namesake. Coddling Snake's jaw, pressing soft kiss after soft kiss over and over on his lips, tender and sweet and in a daze—
And then me again, nodding thoughtfully.
Our apartment was actually a penthouse that was easily three stories, two stories more than any of the other apartments in the building, and was modern chic. We walked right into the living room as soon as the elevator doors closed behind us, the ground carpeted tan and wide, all the way across the room to the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the fourth, fifth, and sixth octagonal walls(the fourth and sixth holding the doors to the balcony and its pool). To the right walking in was the open kitchen with its marble counters and large silver fridge opposite them, sitting between the oak cabinets. To the right was a pretty pink diagonal steel staircase curved down to the entrance that led up to the bedrooms, bathrooms, and loft. Behind it was a light blue wall with a door to the downstairs bathroom in the middle and another door to a room that we(and by we I mean Webs) use as a computer room. In the living room was a wide, L-shaped sectional placed ten feet in front of a forty inch tv, which was habitually stuck on the news and also going ignored by the two fish snoring and cuddled up in each other's arms on the couch. Piranha was dwarfed by Shark's large body, but his snores were definitely winning the gold championship this time around.
So yeah, I understand what she was saying. We very rarely care about personal space(Unless Piranha.. you know. You know). Back in the warehouse, the night before we stole a heater from the local appliance store, we'd all crowded around each other in one bed to stay warm after a blizzard came through. Doesn't usually happen over here, but the next day we found out it was because infamous and waning supervillain Dr. Freeze had wanted to pull one last stunt before retirement. It wasn't even a question. 'Ja rather get through the night freezing to death, or feeling nice and comfortable in the arms of your lifelong partners? Yeah, we never specified work partners. Never said romantic, either. Like I said, we were just like this, and if Diane wanted to get in on this action, she'd have to be fine with it.
Not that she wasn't. She fit in like a snug ugg in winter. Nothing seemed to bother her about our arrangement. Whatever that arrangement was. We had a hot and cold thing going on. I flirted, she pretended she didn't like the flirting, and then she flirted back, and then I'd turn away just before our lips could touch. It was a steady relationship if I knew one.
Forgetting the fact that we all argued like an old married couple, me and Snake, Webs, Piranha, and Shark were all 'into' each other the same way we were 'into' food or water. We'd all been together forever, through thick and thin. I didn't believe in Soulmates or whatever, but if they existed, it'd be all of us, together. No standard heteronormativive monogamy here. We needed each other like we needed air. We depended on each other. Almost losing Snake gave me the worst feeling I'd ever had in my entire life, and I'd rather jump off a cliff than go through that again. It wasn't romance. It was care. It was trust. Respect. Admiration. It was love.
Looking down at the two snuggling on the couch, their mouths wide enough to fit a fridge into and their snores loud enough to hear all the way downstairs, it was love.
I grabbed the blanket underneath them and pulled. It didn't budge even slightly. Diane walked up and stood beside me, then nodded. She grabbed the other end, and together, we pulled. "Wake up, you two!"
They fell onto the floor, a loud thump shaking the whole floor, and Piranha, instantly awake, jumped onto his feet and looked around, wide eyed and hopping on his heels. "The feds?!"
"We have a guest." I winked at Diane and walked around the couch to the entrance of the kitchen.
I began to make her a drink as she started up a conversation with my mates. "Hello, boys," her voice was mature yet playful.
"Not a boy," Shark said as he sat up.
"Hey there, chica..!" Piranha put on his own flirty tone, no doubt fishing for a free meal rather than a date. "Here to take me in again?"
"Only if you've been doing crimes."
"Only crime here is my good looks!"
She laughed at that. I felt a smile coming on as I brought a cold glass bottle of water and two wine glasses to the counter opposite the fridge and poured us a cup. After she was done laughing, she placed her gaze on Shark. "Excuse me, did I hear correctly?"
She sat down on the couch next to where Shark had lifted himself up on it, her back now to me as I finished filling up our glasses. "Shark, I suppose I never asked, I mean, I never even thought to ask, but what are your pronouns?"
Me and Piranha spoke up as I walked back over, "He him." while at the same time Shark said, "Any all."
And suddenly it was quiet and Piranha and I were staring at Shark like he'd grown an extra head. "What? Since when?" I asked in disbelief, handing Diane her glass but keeping my attention on Shark.
He shrugged, lifting his brows and pursing his lips as he shifted his black leather jacket more firmly over his broad shoulders. Today he wore a blood red shirt with a rapper whose name I couldn't currently remember drawn in black on it and a pair of dark, slightly baggy jeans. For as long as I'd known him, he'd been a gay man, albeit slightly effeminate. He was the most touchy of all of us, emotionally and physically, but also the second most violent. The first being Piranha. "Since whenever."
"Why didn't you tell us, aye?" Piranha asked, pointing a finger at himself and stepping forward.
"You never asked."
I asked. "Wait, so, if we don't ask you, you're just never gonna say anything? How were we supposed to know?"
"Well, it was years ago—"
"Years?!" Piranha and I exclaimed.
"-and after I found out I was genderfluid I just figured 'why would I say anything'; it's like, what's the point, ya get me?" He just went on like we hadn't said anything.
"I thought all the 'dressing up like a girl on missions' was a drag thing." Piranha rolled his hands in a circle.
"Yeah, at the very least, you could have told us your pronouns. How long have we been living together?" I said.
"I've told you guys to use she her pronouns for me before, you just never do it." His voice got high as he looked between us.
"What? Pfft," I waved my hand and took a sip of water. "No, you haven't. I would have remembered if you had."
"Yes I have! Remember that time—"
Arin Cross Museum, four years ago, the painting of Atlas, $550,000. Webs was already in the car, Snake needed an out and I was struggling to get a piece of incriminating evidence off my hands. Literally, because it was stuck to my hand. Superglued, to be exact. Piranha was already making his way out with the real deal while the fake was still partly stuck to my hand, having ripped off because an earlier stunt went wrong.
Snake and I stood in front of the torn off part of the fake while a very stubborn woman would not leave the conversation we didn't even know we were having. If we moved, even without being a connoisseur she'd see the tear immediately and alert the guards, but if we didn't, a guard would see us on the cameras and notice something was wrong.
Here comes Shark, wearing a large red wig, styled up in a braided ponytail down his large shoulders, his long, flowing blue dress shining and dragging behind him, to save the day. He gets her attention long enough for us to beat it, and over comms we give him a thanks.
"If it wasn't for him, we'd be toast." Snake had said.
"Her!" A distant shout that I thought at the time was my imagination exclaimed as we ran for the car.
"Or what about when—"
Three years ago, cruise over the Atlantic, billiards in the Casino.
A large woman with sunglasses, tight leather pants, and a sleeveless neon pink tank walked in to distract the men enough for Piranha and I to grab all their stacks, race off the edge of the deck, and get on the getaway boat however meters below. Shark, dressed fabulously in crystal diamonds and shiny rings galore, was late getting to the boat, but not late enough for us to get caught. He'd obviously been dragged down by his loot, but we weren't complaining. All loot was our loot, no matter who grabbed it.
"And the King of Distractions does it again! How does he do it?" Webs joked from the steering wheel by Snake.
"She does it brilliantly." Shark said, flipping dark brown hair over his shoulder passionately.
"Or when we—"
"Ok, I get it, I get it!" I took another gulp of my water. Ok, so apparently I don't notice everything.
.
That reveal stuck with me. Days later, I still can't take my mind off it. Even with Diane comfortably snuggling against my side, her head on my shoulder, as we watch a Ryan Goosling movie. Her body is warm, and her fur is soft, but I can't focus on that because the persistent thought that I'm a bad friend just won't go away. Shark said he didn't not tell us for any particular reason, but it still feels like I've let him down anyway.
I sighed. The scent of strawberries filled my nose. Diane. Her fur smelled fresh and sweet, like she'd just gotten out of a bath. Had she washed up just for me?
I breathe in, breathe out. What a woman. How'd I manage to score one like her? And here I was, not even giving her an ounce of the attention she deserves. Guys must be falling all over themselves for her.
Her orange fur shines blue in the light of the screen, her eyes naturally large and shining brilliantly. She's beautiful. The kind of woman poets write about, lyricists sing about. Not just her looks, but everything about her. She's funny, charismatic, and she's filled with empathy. She's good. She's good at being good. It kinda makes me envious.
Minutes pass, and I'm still not paying attention to the movie. I'd told the others not to bother us while we were in here, so I'm not exactly sure where they are. Knowing Webs, she was probably in her room doing something tech-y. Maybe Piranha was out on the town, causing mayhem and partying it up. Maybe Shark was with him, or even upstairs, sleeping the night away with Snake. Who knows, until one of them comes out to grab some food? We all have our own bedrooms, but it's very rare that we all sleep in them at the same time. It's uncomfortable. We were used to sleeping in a pile or in pairs. Yeah, we could've afforded four separate mattresses at the warehouse, or stole them, but, again, why would we? Me and Webs were the only ones who slept alone consistently. Webs would be crushed if anyone rolled over in their sleep, and I just found it too hot to sleep with them all the time. Especially during the summer.
I jump. Something is crawling up my lap.
"Oh, sorry, was that..?" Beside me, Diane laughs, and I look down to the blanket on top of us to what's definitely just her hand settling on my thigh.
"Oh, no, it's fine." My voice is rough from disuse, but the look in her eye as she stares back at me has me thinking she doesn't mind at all. Damn.
"Is this okay?" Her voice is womanly; sure and confident. Trailing illustriously. It rings loud in the quiet of the living room, much louder than the movie. She was so close, pressed tight against me. All my senses filled with her. Her tiny breaths, her cheek warm against my chest, her hand, climbing up my thigh and stilling as she notices the long pause between her question and my answer. Her large, curious, green eyes and long, black eyelashes.
It was all I could do to not turn to stone right then and there. It took a split second. The thought racing across my mind, why would she need to ask if she can rest her hand there? And then me realizing—
She's asking for consent.
I gulp. Then, realizing she can see that, quickly poker face. I casually look at the screen ahead of us.
She wants to jerk me off.
It's almost confusing. After all this time, I'd forgotten that this is a thing that people do. I wasn't used to people wanting to touch me, let alone just wanting me; it'd taken me forever just to get used to hugs from the guys, back when we first started getting comfortable with each other. I obviously knew it as something that happened on TV, and, occasionally, when Shark and Snake were feeling particularly…enticed, and would go to one of their rooms not to be seen for the rest of the day. But that always seemed like a thing that happened to other people, or in a fantasy world. Somewhere in a completely different reality from me. Diane's beautiful. Remarkably so. And I'd be a bozo to say no to her. What kind of cocky. well-defined adult man said no to a handjob?
It's not like I'm some naïve innocent. I've been around the block before. Experimented. Not with the crew, oh no, no, no. Definitely not them. No offense, but they weren't my type. Especially back then, when we'd all just moved in together at our first place.
It was months after we'd just gotten started. We were a few jobs in at this point, and we stayed at some dingy old one-story. It was tiny, the roof leaked, and I'm pretty sure we had mold, but it was our home. I'd snuck out late one night in an effort to not be bombarded with questions or else it'd get too personal, too quick. I still wasn't completely accustomed to roommates yet, and I'd tiptoed across the living space so as to not wake any of them up.
Down the street was a nightclub. Our faces weren't yet recognizable, but I went out in a fedora tipped to cover my eyes and a fake, fur-matching goatee anyway. The hallway leading to the main floor was dark. Black walls with unmentionable fluids dried and crusted on it and the floor. The walls seemed to thump with the music. EDM, blasting through my feet and all around me even before I made it to the open entrance, where pink and green lights moved in circles across the walls and over the crowd of people. The first thing I saw coming in was a couple making out passionately against the wall, unbothered by the moving crowd beside them, and vice versa. They weren't the only ones, either. The place was packed and you could barely see the DJ in the front with the amount of hands raised to the sky. The ceiling was high but too dark to see by how much. It was hot, and the smell of sweat and alcohol clouded the air. It was my first time being at a place like that, and I'd never forget it. It was a cherished memory. The place is gone now. Closed down after a shooting went down by a particularly bigoted bad guy. Never got itself back up, and thus its musty, D-grade establishment was shut down.
Good memories. I'd lost my virginity in that place. That first night, actually. Nobody cared that I was a wolf. They were too busy getting off on the dance floor, or on voyeurism. I don't remember exactly how it happened. Had to be over a decade ago, now. Maybe I was slightly buzzed. A bit tipsy. Some no name guy with a nice, lean build, muscular arms, and some titillating piercings at the top of his furry ears started chatting me up, and soon enough I was the wolf being pressed up against the wall at the entrance. I don't remember if he was really any good at it. Again, I was maybe a little drunk and it was my first time. What I remember the most vividly was his tongue in my mouth and my hands casually and sensually taking his earrings out and pulling my pants down as I put them in my pockets. He wouldn't notice until the next day, or maybe he never noticed. Maybe he thought he dropped them somewhere. I sure as hell lost them at some point. Probably down a drain or something. I remember being pretty upset about losing those mementos. Especially after the club closed down. They turned it into a Starbucks, which is really funny now that I think about it.
Mostly what I took from that night was that sex wasn't that good, and people made way more of a big deal out of it than they needed to. Being taken right there for all to see probably spoiled some of it, I guess, but the sensations, although varied, would be the same no matter what, wouldn't it? I enjoyed making out, hell yeah. Being pushed against a wall? Anytime. Sex? Nah, no thanks. I'm good.
It wasn't really an issue, anyway. After The Bad Guys got famous, we were too busy and caught up in scaring people rather than getting into any relationships. Shark got dressed up and went out into town sometimes. Webs had a long distance internet girlfriend she was catfishing but also apparently in love with (?)at some point, but they broke up. Not sure if she found out or if it was the long distance, but it ruined Webs for about a month. Snake hates everyone, rightfully so. Piranha is..Piranha. And I prefer to stay home with them.
This sequence of thoughts happens in the span of about three seconds, and with the awkwardness clock ticking down, I nod absentmindedly, quietly saying, "Oh, yeah, sure."
Ryan Goosling looks down at the red stain on his white button up coming from the gunshot wound right under it, then looks up at his foe. "You shouldn't have done that."
Why did I do that?!
Diane starts to unbuckle my belt.
At any given time, someone could walk in on us. At ANY given time.
Her hand just slips past the band of my boxers. A shiver travels up my spine. My hands clutch at the material on the top of the seats of the couch. She doesn't notice, thank goodness.
I should be into this. Come on, Wolf, think of anything!
I squeeze my eyes tight, then open them to watch the imprint of her hand under the blanket, and the relaxed, cool look on her face as she stares down, eyes on me but not on me.
Where's your high libido, now?
When her hand wraps around me, I gasp. I haven't felt the touch of a woman, well, ever. And I haven't felt the touch of another person in over a decade. I've kissed Snake before. Once. Again, I was in a drunken stupor, and teasing him about something, but it never went beyond a peck. Piranha, too. Don't really remember the context for that one. But the celibacy was not for lack of trying. I'm a good looking fella, even in disguise. There have been many-a-time that my hand wasn't enough and I've gone out looking for a standee, and I've gotten a few volunteers, it's just that nobody appealed to me. Men, women, hot, not so hot, didn't matter. I've seen a lot of attractive people but I wasn't attracted to any of them; at least not that way. Sex didn't feel that good, but I still wanted it. It was just the matter of finding the right partner.
And even as I was attracted to Diane, even as she's currently getting me off with her dainty, oh so good hand, even as I moan her name and take in her strawberry-scented shampoo, I wasn't aroused by her.
My thoughts are all over the place. Her hand, Ryan Goosling currently killing someone on screen, the sensations, a tingle up my spine, the fact that the others could walk in any minute, the deer's earrings and his sweaty fur, strawberries, Webs agreeing that sex is overrated("but it could be just because I'm ace"), Shark coming out, Shark tenderly kissing Snake, Diane's head on my chest, my breathing is it too loud?, Diane's voice, Diane, Diane, Diane—
Pleasure rips through my hips and I lift them, into her grasp, and let my head fall back onto the shoulder of the couch, gripping hard enough to tear with my claws, and moan, "Fuuuuuckk..!"
Cause damn, Diane knows what she's doing. She'd probably be surprised to know this was my first handy, but I didn't plan on letting that little bit of information slip anyway.
Her mouth closes over my neck and sucks, and it's that extra bit that makes me inhale sharply and bite my lip. My hands relax, my arms untense, and I melt into the couch. It feels good. Feels really good.
Shark kissing Snake. Me dancing with Diane the night of the award ceremony. Piranha calling me mi amor. Webs sleeping on the pillow beside mine while the others slept in a pile in Snake's room. Diane's hand bouncing beneath the blanket covering us. Another pulse of pleasure stringing up my back.
I wonder why Shark never kisses me?
Diane bites me, softly, and a growl rises from deep in my chest.
She's one of us now.
.
The night ends with Shark walking in from the elevator, after the movie's gone off and it's just us sitting in the dark. But Diane's quick and perceptive. She drops me like a piece of meat, although her movements were already well hidden by the blanket, the position of the couch, and the darkness of the living room. The only light was from the moon, bright and peeking in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. They said a quick hey before they walked up the stairs, and while I was still trying to catch a breath, Diane said hi back for the both of us.
.
We still didn't have a name for this…whatever this was. Never decided on what to call it. Didn't really care. As long as she could spend time with us when she wasn't, you know, governing the city. She was one of us now, and that meant that she was stuck with us. Webs once tried to say Diane and I were dating, but that was a no, and then, hearing my vehement dissent, she jumped off her desktop, met Diane at the door, and took her on a 'date'. Webs words, not Diane's. Laughed in my face when I told her. Her laugh was long and wild, and it warmed my chest to hear. So, no, we weren't dating; yet, we weren't exactly friends either. Not strictly.
Which meant she fit right at home.
.
The next time she came over(she'd been busy, so it'd been just over a month), we all sat on the carpet right before the couch playing our version of cards. Piranha was the first to leave, then Webs, then Shark, who went to go get food in the kitchen and stayed there, sitting on a chair at the counter, swiveling around and not paying us any attention. Snake was the sneakiest and therefore the last to leave, because winning all the time gets boring, he'd said. The trick to this game of cards was stealing them out of the other players hands when they were distracted. If you got caught, you were out. At this point, though, Diane and I were just playing for fun, instead of to showcase our skills.
Her eyes glitter like emeralds in a spotlight and her smirk takes my breath away. It's so distracting that she takes another card from me.
She laughs and kicks out her feet before her as I lean my head back in a groan.
"You're off your game today," She lifts a thin, mischievous eyebrow.
"Yeah, finally you caught me off guard after fifteen plays." I roll my head to my shoulder and smile back with just as much arrogance.
She laughs again as I toss my cards over my shoulder. She sets hers down and crosses her legs. "I thought you could use some experience..!"
I pause midway from calling her out, one eyebrow already raised at attention and the other now furrowing down to give her a look of perpetual disbelief. I almost laugh, a breath leaving my mouth as I lean forward. "..Are you talking about my dick?"
She roars with laughter, tilting her own head back, and my shoulders shake as I let out silent huffs of a laugh too. She waves her hand down. "You were so sensitive! Ah, ah..!" She mocks, then laughs some more, her other hand hovering over her mouth.
I rest my elbow on my knee. "Wow, way to body-shame."
She laughs some more, then cools down into an apology. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wolf. I just didn't peg you for the shy type."
Peg, "It's cause I'm not." I spread my fingers out in her direction, then clench them in thought. "I've just been, ya know, waitin for the right person."
She looks at me, surprised. "I'm quite frankly astonished, Wolfy. You're the last person I'd expect to be abstinent."
"I'm not abstaining from sex." I make sure to say, keeping my voice level so that Shark doesn't hear me. "I just..don't want it. Not really, anyway." I shrug. "Just figured that at some point I would. I'd find someone that made me would."
She looked equal parts surprised and confused. "So, what, you think that's me?"
"No, well, maybe. I don't know."
"How old are you?"
"Alright, okay—"
"No, no, I'm sorry, it's alright," She lets out a laugh as she talks and smiles. "It really is just surprising. So you're waiting for The One?"
I glance up at her, then back down at the rug. It's mahogany and rough. Nice to scratch. I clench and unclench my hand. "Yeah. Presumably." Maybe not one, specifically, but I'll take all I can get. It's not like I went around looking for some special person beaming under a spotlight. I don't believe in that kind of thing. I was looking for someone to fuck, not marry. I made out with a few supermodel-esque women(There was this one blonde gazelle? Ah.. forget about it!), tried hooking up with a bodybuilder once(couldn't even get his pants off this time), but nada. Even tried that catfishing thing like Webs(they were actually a catfish. Met 'em at a cafe.), but even that didn't work out, sexually. At some point it became a hassle getting into disguise just to go out and get nothing, so I stopped. Stopped looking, stopped trying to figure out what it was that I was feeling. Or wasn't, more like. I had the urge, I just..didn't have the output.
She moves closer and wraps her hands around her ankles. "And what if there isn't one? You're just never gonna have sex?"
I roll my eyes. "I've had sex before, Diane, not to brag—"
"Okay, okay—"
I smile at the playful resignation in her voice, glancing at her own eye roll. "I just don't really care for it. Don't see what all the hubbub is about? It wasn't that good."
"Maybe it was just that girl?"
"I don't think so? I mean, he was pretty okay. It was pleasurable, it felt good, I just wasn't all that into it? Like, I didn't feel anything like people say you're supposed to." There was never any spark, never any pull to anyone. I liked them, sure. Could've seen myself falling in love with Noor the catfish. The romance was there, but whenever it got to sex…it felt off. Weird. I didn't feel any different from usual, it just felt like another action. Another thing to do. It was supposed to be emotionally satisfying, right? Make you feel closer to the other person?
"Oh, so you're asexual."
I pause, blink. What the hell? "What? No. I'm not asexual. I've had sex, I can enjoy it, I just don't feel attracted to anyone."
She stares knowingly into my eyes, one eyebrow raised and a tilt to her head. "Not being attracted to anyone is the literal definition of asexual."
I blanche, shaking my head at her, then frown. "No, being asexual is about not liking or wanting sex. I want sex." She laughs and I glance Shark's way to see them on their phone, drinking out of a glass with a straw. They're not paying us any attention. "I'd know, my friend is asexual."
She's talking at the same time as me, voice high with amusement. "Who told you that?" Hearing me, she adds. "Your friend?"
"Yeah, my.. friend." Didn't want to out Webs if she hadn't told her.
"Look, I may not be asexual, but I know that asexuality isn't purely about disliking sex—"
"Or wanting!" I point at her.
"Right, yeah," she rolls her eyes and waves her hand at me, smirking. "Your friend," she says in quotes, which I blanche at. "is probably just one of those aces that don't want anything to do with it. And that's fine! But they don't speak for all asexuals."
"Oh, and you can?"
"No," she shrugs, casual. "But I'm the governor. And when people want to hold meetups or parades, who do they come to?"
I sigh. "…The governor."
"Exactly!"
"Okay, so, you think I'm asexual." I lean back on my hands and look up at the ceiling, high, high up.
"I think it sounds like you're asexual," she corrects me.
"Alright, whatever," I wave her off. "What exactly do I do with that information?"
"Whatever you want, I don't know. I don't control you." She's sitting on her hip, smooth tan legs bent behind her like a mermaid, one hand on the rug by my knee. "Go to a meeting, talk to some asexual people— your ace friend! Ask them about it or something. Learn something."
She's being so flippant about it, but I've been living like this my entire life now. I can't just…I don't know, soak it all in at once. It's nice knowing there might be a word for it out there, I guess, but what now? What does it have to do with me? At this point in my life, I'm not sad about it. I don't hate it. It's just a part of me. I don't wanna talk about it— read pamphlets, go to parades, cry. What am I, a child?
Wait.
I sigh, run a hand down my face.
Have I been a bad friend to Webs, too? Do I need to apologize?
"Fuck." I slide my hands from under me and land on my back on the rug.
Maybe I do need to read a pamphlet.
It feels like I've been pushed into a whole nother world and I still don't have a place in it. Like, how do I have anything to do with this? Asexuality? I'm asexual? I guess it explains why I could never find The One or Two or Three or Whatever, but what do I do now?
.
I look it up, and fine, okay, Diane was right. Going through some of the comments on asexuality forums, blogs and videos made me laugh with recognition, and undeniably left a warmth in my chest and a wag in my tail. The relatability scale went off the charts. So fine, yeah, I'm ace. Whatever, paint me in purple, why don't ya?
Webs throws her head back in a laugh, her hands clasped over the chest of her Girl in Orange t-shirt. She pauses in her laughter, looks at me, then starts laughing again, pointing at me like I'm the most hilarious man in the world. She claps two furry nubs together.
"Okay!" I snap. "I get it!"
"You?!" She screams, laughing still.
I roll my eyes.
"You're the horniest motherfucker here! And we live with Shark!"
"Well, let's not go that far." It seemed pretty split between the two of us. Shark was just a lot quieter with his, and he went out more(he tended to get very friendly with Snake and Piranha when he was in the mood. Smooches and all). I, on the other hand, prefer to jack off at home.
"Nah, you're right." She plopped down on the edge of her desktop. "So what brought this on?"
"I just…had some questions."
"Welp! Go right ahead, Mr. Heat."
Ms. Tarantula spent most of her time in her computer room. It was the smallest room in the apartment, which meant it was about the size of a classroom. The carpet was tightly knitted, deep blue, and harder than the one in the living room. Desks and their accompanying monitors filled the space against the opposite wall from the door, in a semicircle. Three rectangular windows shined light in from partly behind the desktops. The walls were painted a dark arcade pink.
I tell her about the conversation I'd had with Diane, to which she sighs longingly at the name, just to annoy me, and about what I'd researched, and about my first time. She sits there nodding, twirling a straw in a mug she'd seemingly gotten from nowhere.
"I see, I see. Sounds like typical ace stuff."
The hell did that mean?
"You don't feel sexually attracted to anyone? Like anyone? At all?"
I shake my head.
"Then you're ace. That's it. Welcome to the club!" She lifts her front limbs, as if asking for a hug. She's got an open mouthed smile on her face. "A bit late, but what does that matter! Congratulations, dude! You figured yourself out!"
The sun's shining in my eyes, and I blink repeatedly to get used to it. A shiver runs up my spine, and not only is my face warmed, but so is my chest, once again. My cheeks tingle, and the fur on my arms and legs stand up beneath my clothes, and, I look back, yes, yes my tail is wagging.
.
"Happy birthday, Shark!"
Shark's eyes widen and a grin immediately rises to his face as I shove the present towards him, one knee bent forward as if to propose. He rips his hands from his bedroom door and snatches the presents from my hands, ripping it open so quickly you couldn't see his hands or the present. With the wrapping torn to shreds and the lid of the box flying like a frisbee over the railing to the first floor, somehow making it all the way over into the kitchen, Shark stared into the open box with parted lips and wide, expectant eyes.
I watch for his reaction.
He slowly reaches in and lifts the fabric out, promptly dropping the box. He stares at it for what feels like a long time, but could only have been two seconds.
"So?" I grin, feeling queasy as he lifts it up with both hands. "You like?"
"You got this? For me?" He looks up at me from the genderfluid pride flag in his hands, brows furrowed.
"Yes..?" Did he not like it? Was it the wrong flag? Did I mess up?
He lifts his head in the slightest movement. I prepare myself for utter disappointment. "Baby," A shiver runs up my spine. "I love it.."
Every muscle in my body tenses, then what he says sinks in.
He says it again, louder this time, a grin slowly reforming on his face. "I love it!" And he grabs me and pulls me into a hug.
It knocks the breath out of me, and not just because he's crushing my ribs, but because it feels so good. A crooked smile crawls onto my face, and I melt against him, right into his warmth. His arms wrap me up in a cocoon so that all that's left for me to move is my tail, which I can feel relentlessly wagging back and forth.
I'm so entranced with the heat that I don't notice the press against my lips (a loud "thank you!" afterwards made faint like it was coming to me at the bottom of the ocean by my stupidness. Unless, and it's completely possible, I imagined that?) until he's back in his room, the door shut closed and snapping me out of my stupor.
A heat rises even more profusely to my cheeks, and I fall back against the wall next to his door, clutching my beating heart through my shirt. I bite my lip and slide down to the floor, tail thumping against the wall, back and forth, back and forth.
.
Snake comes up the stairs minutes or maybe even hours later and finds me there. He rolls his eyes affectionately and leads me by the hand to his room. In bed, he wraps himself around me and nuzzles himself on top of my head, right behind my ears where he knows I like it. His tail wraps around both of my thighs individually, then around my waist twice, tight, and a few times over my right arm, holding me up off the bed slightly. His jaw rubs casually against that spot on my head and I close my eyes, soothed almost into sleep.
"What was that all about?" His voice is nothing but a grumble, rough and relaxed.
He obviously didn't mean the birthday present. I sigh, enjoying the weight of him around me. "I don't know. Everything's just been crazy lately. Been figuring myself out sexually— that's not what this is, by the way."
Before I can continue, Snake chops in. "Thought you were bisexual."
"Asexual, actually. Just found out." I tilt my head up to glance at him, then sigh again and relax back against him. "Bi ace…"
"Mmm.." He hums gravely from deep in his throat, eyes closed and uncaring. I feel him as he nuzzles that spot one more time before settling. "Heat?"
Not understanding what he's talking about and how that pertains to our conversation, at first, my brain still fogged over, I scrunch up my face. Then it hits me. I peek open my eyes and lift my head to the dent in my pants. "Oh, no, ignore that." I'm telling you, it's that spot! It gets me every time! Now that I think about it, it might be around that time. Would explain how hazy I've been feeling all day.
Snake doesn't respond. Instead, I feel him lift his jaw from my head and slither down to my hip.
"Snake," I warn, not even needing to ask what he was about to do. This was his and Shark's thing, not ours. I don't need to open my eyes to know where he's going with this.
"What? Diane's not here! And don't even try to deny it, I could smell it on you clear as day."
Shit. I glare down at him, and struggle against his tight grip. I quickly realize that I'm getting nowhere. Again, pins gently prick at my face.
"I'll stop if you really want me to." He says, and I relax. Of course he would. He's not that kind of guy.
I look up at the ceiling, brain buzzing for the first time in a while. I may never get this chance again, and at least Snake is someone I know, and trust. I search my brain, and when that doesn't work, I search my heart. Nah, nothing. I don't feel anything for Snake, either. But I'm in heat(probably?), and who am I to say no to a blowjob? Or to my best friend?
As long as it feels good. I nod to myself. I already know I won't hate it, and that's good enough.
Snake's waiting.
"Alright," I say, laying my head flat against the bed and closing my eyes.
He gets right to it, unzipping my pants with I guess his teeth, and nudges them open with his head.
This time I have an ounce of control, and I let out only a harsh breath as a wet heat slides over me. Snake squeezes me tighter with both his throat and his tail. I jerk, spasmodic, as lightning shoots up my spine, but I'm held back by Snake's single limb, and, I don't know, something about it is..
I reach my only free hand to my forehead and wipe the sweat from my fur, at the same time tilting my head back. I pull against Snake's grip and he tightens more around me and I moan, long and low. This, this is different.
Snake's mouth is toothless and hot, all encompassing, and he knows how to use it. Pleasure rushes down my veins. He's like a suction cup, sucking me down helplessly, clenching and unclenching over me.
I spread my legs wider, bent at the knees, and he lets me. I pull at the short bit of fur between my ears, huffing and feeling unbearably turned on.
I cum way too fast, but Snake doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he makes his way back up my panting chest and finds that spot on the back of my ears, and falls asleep with himself still wrapped around me.
.
Diane looks down at the neatly wrapped up pile of black rope in her hands, then back at me with a skeptic look. "You sure?" She's holding it like I'd just given her a baby and she's not quite sure how to hold it.
I nod excitedly, giving her my widest smile.
She looks from me to my erratically wagging tail, then back to me, teeth bared for a moment. Then she shrugs, all judgement gone. "Yeah, sure, why not?"
I jump, fist pumping into the air and kicking my legs out. "Yes!"
"Not the weirdest reaction someone's had to the thought of me tying them up, but definitely the most welcome." She said, kicking the door open to her bedroom. Her real house was closest to the middle of the city, only a few miles away from town hall. She lived in a gated community, this house much larger than her Crimson Paw counterpart. It was a bit more urban. She had a lot more plants than I expected.
It was a wide one story that opened into a hallway, an open entrance to the living room directly on the left and a broom closet to the right. Down the hall there were two doors to opposite bedrooms, and even further down, vanilla walls led down to a kitchen with a glass back door into the backyard directly across from the entrance.
I walk into her room and take in the drastic difference from the rest of the house. Of course there's a bed and a dresser against the back wall. The dresser has a wide mirror as the top half, the surface beneath it littered with makeup and cheap jewelry (I assume she keeps the valuable stuff hidden away). The frame is designed with painted vines and flowers carved into it. The floor is carpeted and soft under my feet and light shines in from a rectangular window to the right. With all the formal stuff out of the way, now we can get into the nitty gritty. The walls had been painted in skinny stripes of pale and bright orange. Rainbow colored bulbs of light hung across the corners of the room, and on the wall beside the dresser hung a thick, patterned quilt that looked like it'd been made in the fifties. Black curtains hung over a door to the left that could either be a walk-in closet or a personal bathroom. The walls were tattooed with posters of both jazz and metal bands, and a couple theatre plays that I've heard of but never went to. Above her bed was a large painting of a woman dancing across a pale blue sea on the brightest day on earth. She wore a long, white, spaghetti-strapped dress and had black hair with light, almost white, blue highlights. The painting was pastel, definitely watercolor. Wasn't the most expensive decor, but definitely the most pretentious.
Diane's voice kicks me out of my observation. "Clothes on or off?"
I stand tall, suddenly feeling subservient. I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to do. "Um. On."
She nods, her back turned to me. "So kink, huh?"
I gulp.
She looks back at me when I don't answer her. "Ever been tied up before?"
I give her a look.
"Right, of course." Her voice has changed sufficiently since I'd walked into her room. It's lower, sultry. She turns back to the rope in her hands. Diane laughs a bit to herself, like a villain, even.
She's quick. I barely have time to breathe before she's done wrapping me up in the rope like a Christmas present. Her hands moved at lightning speed, cartoonishly fast. Her tongue pokes out and her brows furrow inward as she focuses on tying the final knot and then I'm on the floor, unable to maintain my balance.
Although my legs are free, my torso from bicep to waist is tied up so tight that it's almost hard to breathe. Almost. I can only move my fingers, my arms completely lost underneath the many thick layers of cable. I try to struggle out of them, testing the bounds, but I'm completely stuck.
My heart rushes into my throat. It's beating so hard I fear Diane can hear it.
She has her hands on her hips, her outfit almost a match to mine. The difference is her white button up's sleeves are made to end at her elbows and she's wearing a knee length skirt with a split up the middle, while I have on navy blue dress pants and loafers to match. Her black high heels don't click on the carpet as she walks a step closer and uses one to push me from my side onto my back.
My knees automatically part and she uses that opportunity to press the tip of the sole of her shoe into my groin. I clench my lips together so as not to make a noise and look up at her with wide eyes.
She's got a cocky smirk on her face, her black lashes lidded over her eyes and her thin black eyebrows pointed down at me. "You got a safe word in mind?"
I think for a moment, then it suddenly hits me. A grin crosses my face, and I can feel my fangs filling into my mouth. I look her dead in those gorgeous green eyes of hers, and I say—
.
Like I said, self indulgent. I tried to write in the style of the movie and junior novel, for a bit. I also wanted their conversations and experiences to sound realistic, so they talk like adults, still! You don't have to leave a comment, ESPECIALLY if it's gonna be some bigoted bs. Otherwise, have a wonderful ace week 2022! Seriously, asexuals! We rad!