Page 60 of Sleep

“Who doesn’t? We read it in school when I was a kid, but I think it’s banned no. No nudity for children!”

“Outrageous. All I was going to say was this whole…being naked with you…it’s surprisingly pleasant. I don’t even sleep naked.”

“Because you don’t sleep, but we’re changing that. I’ll put nakedness on my list. Might work.”

“You’d make a terrible doctor.”

“I would. I would ignore their obvious gash to the head and make them a cup of tea and discuss wine, ask intrusive questions about their sexual habits.”

“You would.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Like that emperor, lying here on display with all my bits out and no shame at all.”

“You’re stunning, Jonny. You need to know that. I mean…”

There went their fingers, soft strokes down my cock, gently cupping my balls, long nails scraping against my leg, making everything tingle.

“It’s kind of…small,” I said, a little bashful now.

“It’s average. Trust me. I spend an awful lot of time in the changing rooms of a large drag club, and I see a lot of penises. Every single one is different. Long, thick, short, stubby. And you know what? The bitchiness in that changing room can be fierce. Queens gossip. About other queens’ dresses, their wigs being old and worn, their aging chest plates, make-up skills or lack of…you name it and someone will be whispering about it behind someone else’s back. It’s life. But no one in that room will ever point at someone else’s dick and laugh. Because we all have them, and it’s never, ever about size. It’s about what you do with them, how you use your hands, the words coming out of your mouth.”

“The whole package.”

“Yep, whatever its size.”

“That makes me feel much better about my minuscule dick.” My sarcasm had come out to play, but it was fun. I was having fun.

“It’s not minuscule. Average. Nice shape. Works perfectly well. And if you don’t stop complaining, I will put my mouth on it and make it bigger.”

I laughed and headed the threat off with a kiss. I still couldn’t quite fathom it—that they were here with me, naked, in bed. I still had spunk on my hand, the taste of theirs in my mouth. Thinking those thoughts were enough to make me want to retreat back into my shell, but Mabel wouldn’t let me.

I was beyond grateful that they had given this to me. Peace.

I felt at peace. With everything.

“What about you?” they asked, fingers still playing over my skin, sending tantalising tingles down my stomach. “What did you want to become when you were a kid? A property tycoon?”

“Not at all. I wanted to be a pop star. I wanted to be on the cover of Smash Hits. The magazine?”

“I remember that. I preferred all those girls’ magazines—the ones with glitter on the covers and models with really bad perms.”

“Oh God. My mother had one of those perms.”

“So did mine.” They paused, then continued, “Even as a kid, I was the last person anyone would think was straight. My parents were on to it before I knew I liked boys. You, on the other hand—you’re like a straight bloke. I didn’t even clock you until my staff started making comments.”

“Those eye-fucking ones?”

“Yeah. You did, though. I liked it, so don’t deny it.”

“I have no intention of denying it, but I much prefer the real thing.”

“Well. Of course you do. I’m perfect.”

“You are.” I grinned into their hair. No lies there. “My mother knows…me, but I don’t think it’s something my father wants to acknowledge. He’s settled to the fact that his son is weird—do you know he had me investigated at school, to see if I was slow in any way? He was desperate for a reason why I wasn’t quite like everyone else’s kids. Mum told him I was just introverted, and I concur. I wasn’t a social child and preferred to stay in my room and read. I studied a lot. I suppose studying was my safety net. At least I was good at that.”

“I get that,” they said. “I like studying, and I’m really good at it too. But not everything in life can be learned from a book. Sometimes you have to go out and actually live. Learn from your mistakes.”

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