"Trent...are you still awake?" Claire asked quietly.
"Yeah. I'm surprised you are," he replied, rolling over.
"I just keep thinking, but...like, for once, I'm actually fighting sleep to continue thinking, instead of being kept from sleep because I can't stop thinking," she said.
"I know both those feelings," he said, reaching out beneath the blanket and finding her hand.
She received it happily and gripped it. He could just make out her face in the light coming in from the streetlights and the moon.
They had put down the foldout bed in the couch for her and, after talking about it, he'd agreed to sleep downstairs with her. The night had gone well, he'd felt. After the darker conversations had come to an end and the food had arrived, everything had been very chill.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"A lot of things. I guess aro stuff, and comparing it against my relationships...I gotta admit, a lot of stuff is falling into place. But also, like...I guess I was just now thinking about how impossible it seems that you and Ann and Bea and Mae are just here, living this life, and you let me in, even if only for a bit. Like you've been basically across town from me, rolling on in this kickass life for months now, and I had literally no idea. And I was even in contact with Ann. She mentioned some of the stuff you guys do, but I didn't really get it. Not until I was actually here, hanging out with you. Your house, it just has this, like, atmosphere. I don't feel on edge here. I don't feel like I have to be...fake. In any way. And I didn't even realize I was being fake most of the time," she replied.
"How were you fake?" he asked.
"Maybe that's not quite the best way to put it. More like...I had to pretend I wasn't depressed. Or thinking about how much I fucking hate my job. It's exhausting. I have to interact with strangers all day, and pretend like I don't hate my life. But even among my friends and family, I still have to pretend. But I don't have to with you and your girlfriends. That is, just, a huge gift, and weight lifted. I feel so good right now."
"I'm really glad," he said.
"You have something you want to ask me," she replied after a moment.
"How could you tell?"
"I don't know, just something about how you said that, and the way you're looking at me. Ask whatever you want. If I can be just totally open and honest, then so can you."
"Thanks. Um. I guess, how are we going forward? Like, you and I? Obviously you don't want to date me, and that's cool. But…"
"But?" she asked.
"You're cool to hang out with and also I really like having sex with you," he replied.
She laughed. "That's really good to hear, actually. I thought I fucking sucked in bed." She got a sour look on her face. "I guess, sometimes, I did suck in bed, because I just wasn't feeling it." Claire shook her head after a moment. "But you asked a question. So...I like you. A lot, actually. And I must admit that now that we've actually had sex, and I'm about as confident as I'm ever going to be that you are a safe option, both in that I won't catch anything from you and also you won't hurt me or try to pressure me into anything or talk about me to other people...I want to keep going. I'm going to honest, though: I do not have a high sexdrive. So I don't know how much I'll want it."
"I'm okay with that," he said.
"Also...sex with me comes with a pricetag, unfortunately. I'm insecure. I'm going to require a lot of reassurance, and I know how fucking irritating that can be. I'm also going to feel guilty because I'm going to feel like I'm just using you for sex and that's not exactly what our relationship is, but it's kind of close."
"I'm okay with this 'pricetag', as you put it," Trent said. "As long as you aren't outright rude or cruel to me, or dismissive of me...I guess, as long as I feel like we have an open line of emotional communication going, I'm really okay with casual sex and whatever level of friendship you are wanting."
"Okay, then. I'll just take that at face value...do you have any other concerns?" she asked.
He thought about it. "The only thing that comes to mind is: tell me if you're going to hook up with someone else?"
"That isn't happening," she said. "I mean, I will tell you, but as I said, I have a low sexdrive, and sex with you is plenty. I don't want complicated, I just want fun and safe and also good. And that combination is difficult enough to find as it is. Now that I've found it, I'm not interested in fucking it up or trying to throw anyone else into the mix."
"All right, then." He considered it a bit longer. "There's one other thing."
"Shoot."
"I don't want this to come across as a criticism or anything, but...while I won't ever try to pressure you into anything, I am a little concerned that maybe you'll just go along with something even if you don't want to for the sake of peacekeeping. And I don't want you to do that."
"That's...not an unreasonable request," she murmured. "I have done that a lot in my life, actually. So, I promise that I will make a serious effort not to just go along with things." She paused. "Although I have to admit that I did enjoy it when you just made decisions on our date, because it was such a relief to be able to just do things without actually having to think about it or plan it. So if you could do more of that, I would be happy."
"I'll keep it in mind."
She frowned suddenly, then sighed. "I'm getting pissed again."
"Why?"
"Just...frustration. It's not like all of my boyfriends neglected or mistreated me, but no one has been this easy to communicate with. And it just pisses me off, because this seems easy. I talk, you talk, we both listen to the other and we both get the other and respect the other. And we're basically strangers. I mean, certainly less so now, but it's just...fuck! Why is this so hard to find?"
"I don't know...maybe it's true that people are just generally selfish. I'm sure it's some complicated answer, and it's probably like a sliding scale or adjustable? Like, it depends on who they're talking with and in what context."
"That makes sense." She yawned. "Fuck, I need to sleep. I have stupid work to deal with in the morning."
"Probably for the best."
She looked at him a moment longer, like she was considering something. "Would you spoon me?" she asked.
"Yeah, definitely," he replied.
She rolled over. "Thanks. I've had to sleep alone for a long time and mostly I like it, but I do miss being spooned to sleep." She yawned again. "Goodnight, Trent."
He settled into place, putting an arm around her. "Goodnight, Claire."
Trent came awake to sunlight and a girl in his bed. For a moment, he wasn't entirely sure where he was, because it wasn't the bed he was used to waking up in. Then it came to him, and he was suddenly a little worried.
"Claire," he said. She was behind him and had an arm around him, so at some point she had begun to spoon him, but it felt later than early morning, meaning she'd overslept-
"Guess again," Bea murmured.
"Oh. Uh, is she gone?" he asked.
"Yeah. Her car's gone. I'm guessing she went to work...did you do it again?" Bea asked.
"No," he replied. "We just talked for a bit and then went to sleep." He rolled over. "How are you?"
"I'm feeling...needy," she replied, then grinned. "Take me on a date."
"Okay." He threw back the covers.
Bea laughed. "Well, someone's motivated."
"I've wanted to go on a date with you since I first looked at you," he replied, heading for the stairs.
"I feel like we've been on a date before," Bea said, but she sounded uncertain.
"Not, like, a real one. And certainly not one after you went all like 'fuck if anyone knows!'."
"Hey hold it," she said, and he stopped halfway up the stairs. "This doesn't mean you've got carte blanche to like make out with me or grab my ass in public whenever you want."
"Don't worry, Bea. I still respect you," he replied.
"...you're right. Sorry. I just get-"
"Paranoid. I know. I gotta shower and brush my teeth, then I'll be right back down."
She laughed. "I love how into this you are."
"It's a date with you! Of course I'm into it," he replied, then shot upstairs.
By the time they left, Ann was just getting up. They made sure she knew what they were up to and she smiled and wished them a happy date.
Then they were out.
It was approaching noon, and Bea wanted to get some pierogi. Given the tunnel wasn't too far from their home, they walked.
Bea seemed in a particularly good mood as she took his hand and they walked down the street together.
"You're pretty happy," he said.
She grinned at him. "I am. I woke up in a good mood today. Like a really good one. I think I hit the other end of the seesaw on how I feel about work. Before I was all scared about the future, but now I'm all 'wee I'm free!'. Given I'll head back into despair probably a few more times before I finally even out, I'm enjoying this while I've got it."
"Well...that's good at least," he replied.
"It is!" She looked up. "Hmm. I wonder if it's gonna rain. That'd be kinda perfect."
"I'll check the weather," he replied, pulling out his phone. "Oh, hey, I got a text." He unlocked it and checked it out. "From Claire…"
Hey I don't know what you might do with your girls about nude pics but I imagine you probably got a collection by now. You were really cool, and you told me more than once you like seeing me naked, so here's another one to add to your collection.
She had sent a picture that he realized had been taken in his own bathroom mirror. She was facing away from the mirror, twisting around, her pants and panties pulled down to show off her really nice, shapely ass.
Obviously don't show anyone except your girlfriends. Talk to you later.
"Whoa, awesome," he muttered.
"What's that?" Bea asked.
"Nothing," he replied, switching to the weather app. "Uh, yeah, we're slated for rain today and tomorrow."
"Come on, is it from Claire? I know it's my date but now I'm curious. Show me."
"All right, you asked," he replied, and showed her.
"Whoa! She's got a really hot ass," Bea muttered, studying the screen. She passed him back the phone after a moment. "I gotta say, I like my body and being as fit as I am, but there is something to having that extra layer of, hmm...padding. Especially in the ass, hips, and thighs region."
"I know," Trent replied. "I fucking love it."
"You're pretty lucky. You get variety. You get real toned and real thick and in between," she said, grinning and poking him.
"I've won the girlfriend lottery," he replied, "and I am appreciative of that every single day."
"Good."
They reached the tunnel not much later and as they ordered pierogi from the man who ran it, Trent found himself wondering about bringing Mae here to apologize. She'd told him more than once about the fact that she'd stolen from him. But that was a thought for another day. They got their food and drinks and then took a seat at one of the tables.
"So...remember when I said I was going to come up with a writing prompt for you?" she asked.
"Yeah," Trent replied.
"Is that still on the table? I feel like the situation has changed given the whole 'NDAs and contracts' and 'writing whole novels' thing, and it would be totally fair for you to say you're too busy," she said.
"I'll admit, I am busier, and it might not go as fast, but tell me. I want to at least try to make it happen," he replied.
"Okay, but don't push yourself too hard just to try to make me happy...don't give me that look! Promise me."
"I promise, I won't push myself too hard for this," Trent replied.
"All right...so. Like...I started reading that Cyber Wars book yesterday while you were out with Claire. And I just...burned through the whole thing. I mean, they aren't super long or anything, or heavy reading, but I don't know if it's nostalgia or what, I just...love it. Luck would have it it's book number one in a book of, like, twenty eight novels, and I've ordered the next five because I just want to keep reading. So, as you can imagine, I want a story set in the Cyber Wars universe. But what I specifically want is, in your writing style...this sounds so weird," she muttered.
"What?" he asked.
"A, like...oh, what's the term? I had it when I was thinking about this but now I can't remember. Fuck." She looked down at her meal for a moment, concentrating. Abruptly, she looked back up. "Slice of life!" she said. "I want a story that's about some original characters in-universe sort of split between trying to live their lives but also low-key helping the resistance? Mainly romance, though." She laughed and put her head down on the table. "This is really embarrassing. I can't believe I'm talking to you about this in public."
"I mean...you want what you want." He reached across the table and took her hand. "Listen, I'll take a real swing at it. I'm not really sure how I can make a slice of life work, but I will really try for you. Why don't you write down the specifics and the vibe you're looking for, and I'll start reading the first book and see what I come up with?"
"That would be really, really appreciated. Also, honestly, this would be a fantastic early birthday present."
"Oh...when is your birthday? I'm not sure if you've ever told me…"
"I haven't, I think," she said, smiling, "so don't worry. And I don't really get all…" She hesitated, then frowned. "I was gonna say I don't get all pissy about that stuff, but I honestly don't know how I'd react if you forgot my birthday. I mean, I guess it'd depend."
"I will try very hard to remember your birthday. Also, I'll just tell you now, I'm also going to get you something on your birthday."
"Okay, but don't go crazy. My love language isn't gifts. And it's June fourth. Also, just so you know, Mae's is coming up. Sometime in mid-April…"
"Nineteenth," he said.
"I'm surprised I didn't remember it, mainly because she's so fond of reminding me that she's technically two months older. Even though it's closer to a month and a half, and it's not like that actually means anything. Uh...when is yours?"
"June twelfth," he replied.
"Oh, man, we're kinda close. Hmm. We'll have to think about how we're gonna handle that. Shit, when's Ann's?"
"August...something. Fuck, now I can't remember. She told me. I feel like mid-August."
"Oh, well we've got time there, at least...thanks. For agreeing. And if it doesn't work out, don't worry yourself over it."
"I'll see what I can do," he replied.
They finished their meal and headed back up out of the tunnel. As he glanced up at the sky again while they started walking back in the direction of home, he realized that he'd never actually responded to Claire's text. He pulled his phone out.
Thanks for that. You have a seriously hot ass. Hope work isn't torturing you too much.
He hesitated briefly before sending that off, wondering if she'd appreciate a somewhat grimmer shot at humor, and finally decided she probably would.
"When's Mae's appointment?" Bea asked as they walked. She was holding his hand again and it was a warm, wonderful feeling. "Shit, we didn't miss it, did we?"
"No, still got about a week and a half," he replied. "I just haven't talked about it because Mae is obviously freaked about it. She's letting herself forget it exists and honestly, I'm fine with that. It's either that or let her suffer every single day until it finally arrives."
Bea sighed. "Yeah. Ugh. I was supposed to be more helpful with this."
"You have been. You helped me find the place and get the appointment set up."
"I guess so."
"Hey, Bea!"
They both stopped and looked over, spying a dark-furred ferret girl in a heavy hoodie and jeans across the street. She looked for cars, then jogged over.
"Hey Beth," Bea replied.
Beth began to say something, then glanced down at their hands. "Uh...is this your...boyfriend?" she asked.
"Maybe he is," Bea replied, grinning. "This is Trent. I dunno if you've been on the Possum Springs chattrbox, but he's the writer everyone's talking about."
"Oh shit...really?" she asked, looking at him.
"Yep. Trent Sinclair. Nice to meet you," he replied.
"Uh, you too."
"Beth and I went to school together."
"Yeah, um...what have you been up to?" Beth asked uncertainly. She seemed deeply confused about something.
"I finally quit my job at the Pickaxe, I don't have another job lined up, and I moved in with Trent and Mae Borowski and Selma Ann," Bea replied.
"Uh…" Beth shifted uncomfortably, looking like she was having a lot of trouble trying to find the right words for whatever was happening in her head.
"What?" Bea asked.
"Like...won't Chris be mad about that?" she replied awkwardly.