“Yeah?” His footsteps sounded close until he entered the room. “Shit. Ner, listen—”
“Am I a fetish to you?” I turned to him, searching his wide eyes.
“No.”
I crossed my arms. “What is this, then?”
He narrowed his eyes. His height and muscle mass, combined with that glare, would send most people running for the hills but I stood my ground, waiting for his reply.
“It goes up my ass when I’m lonely and need to come,” he said in a dead-panned tone. “Feel free to judge me, you wouldn’t be the first.”
I snorted. I couldn’t help myself. Then I bit my lip trying to hide my smile. “I’m not. But people are either disgusted with my tentacles, or see me as an exotic fuck—a one-off to tell your friends about. Which one are you?”
Rick’s expression softened, his squared shoulders letting go of the tension. “I like you. You turn me on as you, though I must say that your tentacles are a bonus.”
He liked me.
I cupped his face and kissed him. My entire body lit up with warmth at the contact, my tentacles pulsed as near-electric arousal shot through me. Rick’s lips parted in an invite and his tongue moved as tentatively as mine. All four of my top appendages wrapped around him and he went pliant, deepening the kiss, his fingers roaming in my hair. I moaned, pulling him even closer until our bodies met and his hard-on pressed against my groin. My lower tentacles throbbed to get out of my pants and reach for him, stroke him, fill him...
I broke away, panting. “We won’t make any music like this.”
“I think you’re wrong. You’re quite inspiring.” Rick licked his lips and slid his hands down my sides to my hips, then shoved them in his pockets. “But that’s not why I invited you, I’m sorry.”
I wanted to protest. The urge to devour him, to wrench moans out of him in that moment was overwhelming. But he didn’t know me and I didn’t expect him to jump into bed with me. From what my friends had told me, it wouldn’t be unusual for a gay man to just go for it, but my experience had never been like that. Even people obsessed with tentacles most often changed their mind when it came to sex with me. Seeing me naked was sometimes too much to process for non-preternaturals. Tainting the blooming friendship I had with Rick would be a mistake I’d regret.
“I get it. Don’t worry.” I backed out of the room, my chest hurting, my lips still tasting like him. “And the pizza is getting cold.”
We sat on the couch with our boxes and dug into the food. If I couldn’t sate my libido, I aimed to quench my hunger.
“Those are olives with a side of pizza.” Rick pointed at my box, breaking the silence.
I shrugged. “At least it’s not pineapple.”
“True.” Rick’s tiny smile told me it was all well between us.
Should I ask about the dildo? Did he have tentacle fantasies or was it just one of many? If he used that tentacle, he could take mine too, work up to taking two…
“You’re blushing.” Rick smoothed his thumb over my cheek. “The blue tinge means you have blue blood, right?”
I nodded. The teal hue to my skin was barely noticeable in low lighting, but my blush was undeniably blue. I reached for his hand with my tentacle and he gently wrapped his fingers around it. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask?” It would be better for him to know who I really was before we kissed again. Because I didn’t want to think it was our first and last one.
Rick stroked my tentacle with reverence, his fingers roaming between the suckers which expanded and contracted under his touch. “I have preternatural friends, but everyone is different. It’s fascinating how some people can shift or live in one state. How about you?”
People.Usually, if we’re not called monsters, or cryptids, we’re preternaturals. To Rick, we were just people. He warmed my heart without even trying.
“Some kids are born with all of one parent’s abilities, some with a mix of both. I’m the latter—having my mom’s aquatic features and dad’s human ones. My mom is a shifter, which made it easier for her to blend in when the political climate was shaky for preternaturals, but I can only shift my lower half so I can never look fully human. My four tentacles always stay with me. I hated that when I was little and tried to be normal, but then I embraced it as my heritage and a big part of my identity.”
“That’s amazing. You’re…” Rick brought my tentacle to his face and nuzzled it while he put my hand on his chest.
His heart was beating fast and he closed his eyes.
I half-hoped we wouldn’t find this elusive sound he’d been looking for, so we could play more together. Jamming was like dancing in many ways, you either gelled together from the start or you’d have to work on it hard. Playing with Rick was effortless, as if we had the same idea of what we wanted from the melody we started and it flowed.
I’d never had that with anyone before.
It was special, comforting but disconcerting at the same time. Of course I’d find someone I could create music with so easily after I decided to abandon it all and stick to my dad’s business.
Rick released a long sigh and opened his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.
