Page 85 of Pansies

“I mean,” Alfie added hastily, “it’s totally okay that you’re into that.”

There was another long silence.

“Just with you, Alfie.”

Was that a good thing? He wasn’t sure.

“I mean,” Fen went on slowly, “that first time, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, so it didn’t matter what I did. But I think I sort of knew even then that you wouldn’t hurt me, so it felt…safe. Yes, that’s it—it felt safe to be a little bit powerless with you.”

It was maybe the bravest thing Alfie had ever heard. And he felt entirely unworthy of it. Too aware of all the ways he was cowardly.

Next thing he knew, Fen had tucked himself in tightly against Alfie’s side, face pressed against his shoulder. A few strands of hair were stuck to Alfie’s neck. A little bit irritating. But he didn’t mind. They made it real. The closeness of Fen. “I’m so sorry I was a dick to you after.”

“I deserved it. I sort of wish you hadn’t run off, but—”

“Not that after. Before.” Little more than a whisper, the words half-hidden in Alfie’s skin. “You know, making you beg and all that nonsense.”

As it happened, Alfie had almost forgotten. He had a vague memory of something like that, maybe, but mainly what he remembered was the hot, rough clasp of Fen’s hand around his cock. How amazingly good it had felt. “I guess I was too turned on to care.”

“Honestly, at that point, I just wanted to make you feel good. But I was supposed to be using you.” Fen gave a mortified little squirm. “So I think I tried to embarrass you. I don’t know. It was awful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He slid his palm soothingly down Fen’s flank. It was too sleek and angular to be much of a curve, but it was a shape, a shape he could follow and learn, a shape that felt good under his hand. The skin there was eggshell smooth, pulled taut over an intricate web of bone and muscle, human and real and perfect.

Fen pressed into his touch, like a cat in a sunbeam, making a noise that sounded about as close to a purr as a human could manage. But then he rolled away, turning Alfie fully onto his back and settling over him. He wasn’t heavy, but it was still asurprise somehow: all that supple strength pressing him down. The heat of it. “I still want to make you feel good though.”

Alfie drew in a sharp breath. This was weird. Not bad weird exactly. But he was startled. And he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “Um, okay.”

Wow, that sounded unenthusiastic. He would have tried again except Fen sort of leaned over him, into him almost, and did something with his hips that was even weirder for Alfie than it had been before. He was hot and cold, and a little bit fearful, and a little bit wanting. But while he was worrying about it, his thighs slid open under Fen’s, like his body was okay with stuff his mind really wasn’t ready for.

“You know,” murmured Fen, moving sleekly between Alfie’s legs, “you ask a lot of questions.”

“In general?”

“About sex.”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to. There’s like podcasts and stuff.”

There was a pause. Alfie got the feeling Fen was trying not to laugh. “Alfie Bell, are you trying to learn how to be gay from podcasts?”

“Well. Yeah. How else am I supposed to figure this stuff out?”

“God, you’re so fucking adorable, I can’t even. But you know there’s no such thing as the Queer Pope, right?”

“The what?”

“I mean nobody—not even people with podcasts—get to decide what queer men are like or how they fuck. You can do that for yourself.”

Alfie hadn’t actually thought about it in those terms. He’d always assumed he was behind the gayness curve. Held back a year in gay school. “I guess. But honestly it was kind of a major fucking revelation to me that you could just havea straightforward conversation about sex and everybody goes home happy.”

“That’s not a gay thing, Alfie, that’s a human-being thing. Men can be just as confused and cagey as women.”

“Maybe, but I hadn’t realised you could just ask. I was too busy trying to figure out what I should be doing to pay attention to, y’know, the actual person I was doing it with.”

Fen went down onto an elbow, his free hand stroking lightly over Alfie’s cheek. “God, you’re sweet.”

“I am not,” protested Alfie, appalled.

Which made Fen kiss him, his mouth full of laughter. “The fact remains,” he said, pulling back, breathless, “you took good care of me, even when I was being awful to you. So that means it’s my turn.”

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