Page 17 of A Merry Christmas for Art… and His Tentacles

She pulls out a foil package from a box on the coffee table and hands it to me. “Thirty minutes. Rinse your face first.”

I retreat to her bathroom where I take a proper shower. I know she won’t mind because this is her guest bathroom. There’s even a robe my size in the closet. After I’m done, I put on the mask and join her on her favorite pink couch. She’s sprawled out, her tentacles the same light pink as the fabric.

“I had sex tonight,” I say.

She smiles. “That’s wonderful.”

“It was.”

I sprawl out next to her, letting my tentacles stretch up and over the back of the chair. She picks up her book and begins reading again, so I close my eyes and allow myself to fully relax. With Lisa, talking is rarely necessary. We can just be.

It’s strange that I was able to just be with Dean too.

I might like him too much after only sharing orgasms once. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that.

Dean

Despite one of the best orgasms ever, I ended up tossing and turning all night. I’m not sure how I could miss Art so soon, but I wanted his tentacles surrounding me, holding me close. I’d barely held back the request for Art to stay the night, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated or to overwhelm him.

I was his first sexual experience. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The minute my alarm went off and I groggily hit my phone, it was my first thought.

I had sex with Art. I was the first person to ever have sex with Art. And when could we do it again? Would Artwantto do it again?

As I got dressed and drank some coffee, it hit me that today might be awkward. Should I be flirtatious? Would Art welcome that, or would I make him uncomfortable? Was this just a one time thing for him, or was he interested in more?

We really should have talked more last night, but I had just been so comfortable, and Art had seemed settled too.

By the time I’m draining my coffee, I realize that ifIfeel awkward, Art probably hasno cluehow he’s supposed to act atwork today. He might totally ignore me and think that’s normal after sex.

I chuckle to myself, thinking that totally ignoring your sexual partner is probably better than killing them, so I guess as long as Art doesn’t try to murder me in the lab today it’s a plus and possibly a sign that he likes me.

I grab a muffin and head to work, thinking about Art the entire way, playing different conversation starters in my head. I run into James heading into the building, as usual, but I only half listen to him go on about the latest reality show.

“Dean, man, you ok?” James asks in the elevator.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Distracted this morning,” I admit.

“Does it have anything to do with the rumor going around about an extra work assignment? I heard people at lunch talking about it and saying they were going to report the whole thing to HR. They were saying it’s totally unfair and speciesist,” James says.

I give him my full attention then, grabbing his arm. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

James looks at me, surprised. “I thought it had to be false, but I knew you couldn’t make lunch a few days in the past week. People are saying you’re being forced to hang out with some antisocial asshole coworker. I didn’t give it too much credence, because you didn’t say anything. Plus, I don’t remember you disliking anyone you work with, so I couldn’t think of who the antisocial asshole would be.”

James just shrugs at the last part, but I’m fuming, and James must realize it from my face.

“It’s true? You know they can’t do that. You should totally go to HR and they’ll sort it out. Itisspeciesist for someone in your lab to make the human work overtime without pay just to help out a cryptid,” James insists, and I can tell he’s getting fired up on my behalf.

James is a good guy, and I know he has my back. I also can’t believe there’s a rumor like that going around.

“No, that isn’t it at all,” I insist.

“You aren’t being forced to hang out with some cryptid?” James asks.

“Well, sort of…” I start, realizing that yeah, Frank’s request actually was really unprofessional. “But I don’t mind,” I say, adding, “and Art is not some asshole coworker. And this wasn’t his idea.”

“Whoa, it’s Art? I’ve only ever heard you say nice things about him,” James says. “I don’t know how this got around, but it sounded like some guy was totally taking advantage of you. Everyone was pretty outraged about it.”

“Shit,” I murmur. This is the last thing Art and I need.

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