Only See You

by JD Chambers

  I haven’t heard from Ben, either, and I did expect to hear from him. At the very least, an apology or a thank you for not leaving him passed out in a bar bathroom.

  I scour my closet, skipping over the yoga pants that are calling to me. Do I want to dress sexy to show Ben what he missed? Do I want to dress conservatively to help Parker in case he’s still freaking out over what we did?

  When I first started to present myself out in the world as nonbinary, I thought about each and every article of clothing, bit of makeup, and hairstyle. Who was I seeing? What would their reaction be? Would it be better to present more male or female or neither? What would make me feel the most confident? What would be the safest? Over time, and partially because I thought I was in a supportive work environment, it has become seamless. It no longer requires conscious thought, and I liken it to someone learning a new language. At first, you take a phrase and translate it word by word until you understand the meaning, but eventually, with enough practice and internalized knowledge, you understand the phrase as soon as you hear it, without needing to translate it into English first.

  I stop short when I realize I’m falling into old traps, thinking about the comfort of others instead of myself. I need to dress in a way that makes me feel the most comfortable and confident, damn it, especially after losing my job. Everyone else can deal.

  With that in mind, I saunter from the cab I took here, up the steps to Craig and Zach’s new home wearing a skin-tight, ankle-length skirt, my heeled boots, and a black blazer with nothing underneath. My hair’s so straight and silky, you can practically see your reflection in it, and the only thing breaking up my bare makeup-free skin from my forehead to my navel is a black velvet choker. I don’t care if it’s freezing outside, I feel sexy and powerful, and that’s what I need to get through this evening.

  “Wow,” Zach says as he opens the door, and my spine gets just a smidge straighter. Now that’s the reaction I want all night.

  I present him with a bottle of wine, and he thanks me with a hug. It’s a little awkward, but I’m hoping in time Zach warms up to me. I know he was originally jealous of me, and the fact that I was practically humping Craig’s leg on the dance floor when we met didn’t help. But I had an ulterior motive that day, which was to encourage Craig to get the fuck over himself and see how much he liked Zach. It worked too, but alas, I’m still the bad person.

  Parker and Ben have arrived already, but Zach maneuvers us away from them and toward two women lingering in the kitchen doorway. I’ve only just been introduced to his and Craig’s friends Victoria and Mrs. Hill when Ben approaches.

  “Hey,” Ben says, and I stiffen. “I was hoping we could talk privately for just a second?”

  I’m not sure I want that, but he looks so nervous twisting his hands together that I decide to put him out of his misery. Hopefully it will diffuse whatever tension is between us and let the rest of the dinner pass smoothly. I extend a hand, indicating for him to proceed, and follow him into a long hallway on the opposite side of the house from the kitchen.

  “I owe you an apology,” he says, his hands still clasped together. “I wasn’t in the best place, Zach moving out and holiday shit, and I ruined our date. I don’t really even remember anything after the martini bar, which is utterly humiliating. I’m so sorry. I’m not usually like that on dates, I promise.”

  “Thanks. Although I hope you aren’t trying to ask me out again, because–”

  “Oh god, no,” Ben says with wide eyes, and I laugh freely. “I remember enough about that night to know that’s not a good idea.”

  “Thank fuck. I was worried you were going to want to try again.”

  “I think friends is good. Or friends of friends. Distant acquaintances, even,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eye, and the kind of charm that made me initially think I could fall for him. But no. Definitely not.

  I place my hand across my chest in mock offense. “I was not that bad. You, on the other hand…”

  “Hey, I already said I was having a rough time,” he says and nods in the direction of the others to see if I’m ready to head back. I nod and we continue our chat as we cross into the living area.

  “Yes, and it showed. I mean, maybe some people are hot for teacher, but not when teacher’s on a bender.”

  Ben snickers, and Zach shoots us an inquiring look. The oven timer goes off before he has a chance to ask, and Craig directs us all to the dinner table. In the time since Ben pulled me aside, the final guest, a red-headed guy I don’t recognize, has arrived.

  The table has name cards, probably with the intent of keeping Ben and me as far away from each other as possible, although that’s no longer necessary. Bonus – it allows me to discover the red-head’s name without asking. It’s Kieran. The unfortunate result, however, is that I’m seated next to Parker. Not ideal when I’m trying not to notice how gorgeous he looks all dressed up. Track pants might be ideal for his glutes, but the dress shirt and slacks make every inch devastatingly debonair. Plus, the man radiates heat and it keeps making me shiver.

  “Is everything okay?” Parker keeps his voice low enough that only I can hear. He doesn’t even look my way so that there’s no attention on us, merely shifting so his body is closer. Jesus, the man is warm inside and out, and I have to keep reminding myself not to get attached.

  I give a quick bob of my head, but can’t keep a smile from spreading across my face. I’ve had plenty of guys use me as their experiment. It’s practically the only way I got laid in high school. But none of them ever showed the care and concern that this man has. Hell, half the guys I’ve dated haven’t.

  Zach’s arms are loaded with an enormous tray of lasagna, which joins a salad bowl and tray of rolls on the table. Craig beams at him, and the lead weight in my stomach returns. Part of that is probably also the fact that Parker has turned to Mrs. Hill sitting on his other side. It isn’t right, but I wish I could be the only one to occupy his attention tonight.

  Mrs. Hill asks for an extra roll, but Zach says that she has to get Parker’s permission. Ben snorts so loud the entire table turns to look.

  “I’m trying so hard to be good right now,” Ben says. “None of you appreciate how difficult that is.”

  “You get a gold star, Ben,” Craig says from his spot at the end of the table near me.

  “Oh, I already have a gold star,” Ben says with a wink at Craig, and half the table groans.

  Kieran shoots Craig a confused look, and Craig tells him, “I’ll explain later, young padawan.”

  “The dinner is delicious, Zach,” Mrs. Hill says after a bite of the lasagna.

  “Hey, I helped,” Craig whines.

  “Of course you did, dear,” Mrs. Hill says, and Victoria coughs in a vain attempt to hide her laugh.

  “Hush, you,” Craig says, but it’s a losing battle. A different half of the table is out of the joke this time, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone starts laughing when Craig cries, “All of you suck! Don’t say it.” He points to Ben, who pretends to zip his lips.

  The merriment of the table does lift my spirits, but it’s not enough. Even when Victoria starts talking to me about her art, my attention is laser focused on the man to my right. If only I could get his attention too, somehow.

  8

  Parker

  To my left, Mal and Victoria talk about art, and as much as I’d like to tune them out since it’s not exactly a subject where I excel, I can’t stop listening. Mal speaks with such passion, and their voice is soft and melodious and weaves into my consciousness with gentle tendrils.

  Earlier, when they and Ben were talking, I had to hold myself back from checking on them. Mal looks sexy as fuck tonight, tight skirt and that glorious chest exposed. I keep watching for their blazer to slip and expose a nipple, but it never does. It stays perfectly, torturously in place. They came back from their private conversation all smiles, and I keep telling myself that I’m glad. We’re friends, and friends want each other to be happy.
/>   Fuck, my head still aches from last night. I didn’t even have much to drink, but the beer combined with the music and the stress of self-realization, and I woke this morning feeling like I got hit by a karmic Mack truck. Thankfully Ben didn’t notice a thing, or I’d have had more than just inner turmoil to deal with.

  Something brushes my left knee and I shift it away from Mal, thinking it must have been an accident. As soon as I move, something touches me again, and I realize they’re chasing my knee with their own. I am so startled I forget myself and turn to stare straight at them. They continue their conversation with Victoria, and I wouldn’t be the wiser except their lip quirks up.

  My fork is suddenly slippery in my grip. I look around the table and study each face, taking deep breaths to get myself under control. Everyone else seems oblivious to our touching and to the tornado stirring within me like it’s about to turn my insides into tornado alley. It is just a knee. Two knees touching. I shift until more of our thighs press together, and inhale a shaky breath. God, how can no one notice I’m a total mess right now?

  Mal’s index finger traces the valley created by our joined thighs and my fork clatters onto my plate.

  I feel the force of every eye on me, but it is Mal who blinks innocently and asks, “Are you okay, Parker?”

  Devil in a dress, I’m telling you. So much for pretending all I want is to be friends.

  My “yes” comes out less like a word and more like a squeak, and I cough to clear my throat.

  “Zach,” I say in a desperate flounder toward a different subject. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to Oklahoma with me in a couple of weeks. It’s my dad’s birthday party, and I do not want to go alone. Mom’s already bugging me about bringing Shelby.”

  I had planned on asking him anyway, just not with an audience. Mal resumes their finger torture, but other than a slight shake in my hand as I gulp down my water, I think I’m hiding it better now.

  “Why would she want Shelby there?” Zach asks.

  “I don’t know. She was acting so weird over the phone, like the divorce was a prank or something. It was very strange. Say you’ll come? I can’t face them alone.”

  “I wish I could, but I’m assisting one of my clients with a loan pitch that Friday,” Zach says with regret apparent on his face. “I can’t miss it.”

  “I’d go with you, but I can’t miss class. I can help you come up with some good ideas for getting through it, though,” Ben chimes in with an evil eyebrow waggle.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  The table goes quiet, everyone else as stunned by Mal’s offer as I am.

  I turn to gauge Mal’s placid expression. It should indicate this is a throw-away offer, a politeness they casually suggest to any man who has had their dick in his mouth. Maybe even because I have had their dick in my mouth. But their eyes betray them. Their intense depths indicating how much Mal needs me to accept them. And fuck if that doesn’t twist up something deep inside me, replacing all those empty promises I made to myself about keeping a safe distance from Mal.

  “I’d love for you to go with me. You do realize you’d be meeting my parents, right? In Oklahoma. They aren’t exactly the most …” I search for the right word, somewhere between tolerant and progressive, but Mal interrupts me.

  “You need someone to take the heat off you, right? Well, honey, you’ve come to the right attention whore.”

  They lay their hand on my arm, on top of the table in plain view of everyone. I wait for the panic, but their touch has the opposite effect. It settles me, our plans, this situation. It must settle the others too, because the hitherto silent table returns to its previously chatty state. Only Zach still watches our interaction.

  “Excellent. Then I’ll text you the details. We will drive down on that Friday and come back on Sunday. It’s a ten-hour drive, so fair warning. You’re sure it will be okay for you to miss work?”

  A flicker of pain crosses Mal’s face, so quick I’m sure I’m the only one to see it.

  “Positive. Since I no longer have work.”

  “What happened?”

  “Eh, the usual,” they say with a shrug, effectively shutting me out. But tension creases their eyes and weighs down their shoulders.

  “Oh my god, I almost forgot,” they exclaim to the table. “I keep meaning to point it out. Craig and Zach’s ship name is Crach!”

  Peals of laughter, particularly from Ben, fill the air, mixed with some grumping from the aforementioned couple. Mal’s posture loses a bit of tension, but it’s still there, in their face. They might have been successful with the others, but they can’t distract me. Losing their job is affecting them more than they want to let on.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for coming with me to Oklahoma,” I say as Mal and I make our way down the sidewalk. With dinner over, everyone has left, including Craig to drive Mrs. Hill home. We exchanged phone numbers inside so that we could make travel arrangements later, and I still can’t believe Mal volunteered to go. “Usually I’m the son who can do no wrong, but lately, I think they only see a total fuck-up.”

  The dark hides their expression, but I can surmise a sly grin when Mal says, “I can think of a way for you to thank me. Which is your car?”

  I wasn’t going to do this again, drag Mal into my pubescent-like sexual crisis, but I’ve already pointed to my Volvo before my brain has processed the question. They’re not thinking … They’ve got my dick acting like I’m a teenager again, so why not the rest of me?

  Mal grabs my hand and struts to the back door of my car. They give the handle a test pull, then motion for me to unlock the door, which I do without a second thought. Where Mal is concerned, my brain and my body disconnect and I’m helpless to resist.

  Mal jerks open the door and pushes at my shoulder. “Gentlemen first.”

  I can’t believe I’m crawling into the back seat of a car like a fucking teenager, but then Mal hikes their ankle-length skirt all the way to indecently top-of-the-thigh and crawls in after me, and my brain is no longer just disconnected. It has completely short-circuited.

  Mal tries to straddle my lap, but even with their skirt hiked as high as it is, it still restricts how wide they can take their legs. Instead, they straddle a single leg, and their knee nestles nerve-rackingly against my balls. They lean over me, probably to keep from bashing their head against the roof. My hands slide underneath their blazer, where they’ve been itching to go all night. They hum so softly it could be mistaken for a sigh as I glide my palms up and down their sides, my thumbs dipping into their belly button and tracing along each rib.

  Our lips hover inches apart, panted breaths dusting our faces.

  I skim across their chest and slide my hands across their shoulders and down their arms, removing the jacket without ever having to break contact. Their skin is liquid metal and my hands are magnets that can’t pull free. I don’t want to pull free.

  I surge up, trying for a taste of their lips, but they shift back to escape my chasing mouth. The movement jolts our bodies and their knee digs hard against my sac while their thigh provides a delicious amount of pressure against my shaft. A heavy breath escapes my chest at the glorious barrage of sensations. Mal must feel it too, because they rest their hands along my shoulders and begin a slow and steady roll of their hips, rubbing their clothed cock in the dip between my hip bone and my groin.

  I chase their lips again, and again they evade me.

  “Please,” I huff.

  They giggle as they slide off my lap and stretch out across the seat, forcing my hands to break contact with their skin. “Ask and you shall receive.”

  I’m about to say that this is not at all what I wanted, no kissing or touching, when nimble fingers are at my zipper. Mal extracts my cock from my boxer briefs and it points directly at the roof of the car. For the first time, I notice that the windows are fogged, blocking our actions from the world outside, but still a glaring red flag as to what is going on inside this vehicle.r />
  Mal urges my ass forward in the seat so they can have a better angle to reach inside my pants and caress my balls. Their face hovers over my cock, warm breath ghosting the tip that drips with precum, while their hand rolls my balls and gently squeezes my sac. A finger drifts back and teases my taint and the very base of my crack.

  “Ah!” I shout, and a puff of breath forced out by Mal’s laughter hits my dick.

  Just the tip of their tongue darts out to lick at the drop that has dribbled from my slit, then continues quick tiny licks all around my head, driving me insane. My hands dig into the seat, trying to find some way to ground me from this incessant torture.

  “Mal, fuck!”

  They giggle again, like torturing me is the most fun they’ve had all night. Then inch by mind-blowing inch, they slowly suck my cock into their mouth until they’ve swallowed the whole thing. Their tongue ripples along the underside, and then they swallow, creating a brief but amazing pressure in their throat and suction at the head of my cock.

  My hands search the air for something to grab onto and hit Mal’s bare back, so smooth and long. I mindlessly rub along their spine, up and down in time with their endless head bobs.

  The strength of their suction and the fact that my entire shaft is engulfed within their mouth quickly has my balls tightening. But when Mal’s dry finger moves to my hole and presses, I lose it faster than I thought possible. I don’t even have a chance to warn them before I’m spilling into their mouth. They nurse me through the aftershocks before releasing me.

  Mal crawls back over my leg and presses their lips to mine, and my mouth floods with slightly bitter fluid. Their tongue pushes my own cum into my mouth, sending it farther inside with each erotic stroke of their tongue. It’s then that I realize they have their own dick out, slick and jerking as they feed me my release. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced, and as I moan deep into Mal’s mouth, they find their own release onto my favorite dress shirt.