“No,” I said. “Is that what I said?”
“You don’t want to be topped, but you think I ‘need’ it is what you said,” said Nikolai.
“I do want it,” I said. “And you don’t think you need it?”
“I don’t want to be humored,” said Nikolai.
“That’s not at all what I was even saying,” I said. “Look, you… whatever you went through before you were with us, it did things to you, and it makes you feel safe to be in charge—”
“Shit, seriously?” said Dmitri. “You and me, Nik, does that… does that trigger you?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Nikolai, getting up, bringing the blanket with him. He draped it around his body like a toga and glared down at us. “You both treat me like I’m glass and I’m going to shatter, but I’ll have you know that you two are the fragile ones.”
“That’s not at all what I meant,” I said.
“I don’t need our sex life to be some kind of weird therapy session,” said Nikolai. “And you and I, my preferences with you, they’re not because I’m fucked in the head or something. It’s not like I’ll work through my issues and then I won’t get off from telling you to suck me on your knees. That’s always going to get me going, and if you’re just enduring it—”
“That’s not even what I was saying,” I said.
Nikolai tucked in the blanket. “I’m tired. If you three are going to sit up and talk all night like women, I’m going to bed elsewhere.” He walked off.
“That was sexist,” said Corentin.
Nikolai flipped him off, yanked open the door, and disappeared.
I massaged the bridge of my nose. Well, that had gone well.
Dmitri sighed. “I would fucking love to watch him top you, you know?”
“Do you even like him?” I said.
“What kind of question is that?” said Dmitri. “I love him.”
“He says you won’t even let him fuck you. I bet you don’t even suck him—”
“Of course I do,” said Dmitri.
“He says we have to make allowances for you because of your weird, homophobic upbringing, but I—”
“Wait, Nik said that?” said Dmitri. “Nik thinks I’m a homophobe? The man I love thinks I’m not gay enough for him?”
“Look, he maybe didn’t use that word,” I muttered.
Dmitri flopped back onto some pillows in the nest. “How does this even work? Is the only fun thing about polyamory the sex?”
“Possibly?” I said with a shrug.
“Definitely,” said Corentin.
“I really thought that it was a super homophobic, heterocentric thing to define sex as penetration,” muttered Dmitri. “So, even if Nik and I never insert our cocks into each other’s asses, we still have sex.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Point stands,” said Corentin. “You don’t bottom? Ever?”
Dmitri sighed heavily.
“I mean, just saying, that’s kind of very 1970s of you,” said Corentin. “Welcome to the fucking twenty-first century and all the versatility of being a man. You can catch, you can pitch, you can—”