“That’s just mean.” I aim a kick at them and miss. “Besides, I’m not a virgin. I had plenty of sex before my surgeries, and my oral skills are renowned throughout Boystown.”
Juno sighs and switches tactics, giving me the big Bambi eyes. “You can put all your drinks on my tab for the whole night.”
“And you make me breakfast tomorrow morning,” I barter.
“Deal.” They bounce in their seat and clap their hands victoriously. “And for what it’s worth, I think you should wear that crop top tonight.”
“Quit while you’re ahead,” I advise, dragging my fingers through my hair and blowing out a breath. “And I’m going to need help getting out of this chair.”
“What are friends for?” Juno hops up, grabs my arm, and hauls me unceremoniously to my feet, ignoring my yelp of agony.
“Gym bros are masochists. That’s the only explanation.” I look helplessly at my messenger bag, sitting on the floor a few feet away.
Juno takes pity on me, skipping over to pick it up. What a showoff.
“It gets better the longer you stick to it,” they assure me, shouldering my bag before looping their arm through mine to lead me out of the classroom.
“Then why don’t you go to the gym?”
“Because running outside is free.” Juno flicks my earlobe, and I glare at them. “How was the hottie at the gym today?”
I scoff, but my stomach squirms and my mind fills with the image of Butch’s soft, encouraging expression when he gave me that pep talk on the treadmill.
“If therewasa hottie at the gym, I would have completely embarrassed myself today anyway, so it really wouldn’t matter.”
“In that case, it sounds like youreallyneed half a dozen drinks and to get hit on by a bunch of strange men,” they declare.
I hate to admit it, but Juno’s probably right. I’m ready to flirt, and date, and do more than just blow a guy in the bathroom for a scrap of validation and human connection. My body is healed, and my libido is definitely on board with all of it. I just need to find the courage to go for it. And I doubt it will be found sitting home, watching movies and studying.
“Fine, you’re right.”
“So you’ll wear the crop top?” They waggle their eyebrows, and it immediately makes me think of Butch again, tempting me to arm wrestle him.
“No,” I say flatly. “But maybe I’ll finally wear that tight black V-neck you got me for Christmas.”
“That’s going to look so hot on you.” Juno squeezes my poor, sore bicep again.
I wince and pick up my pace a little so we can make it to the bus stop before the next bus comes. The five o’clock is always mostly filled with other students headed to their off-campus housing, but miss it and end up on the five ten? Tourists headed back to the train station after a day in the city.Shudder.
Juno chatters away about what they might wear tonight. Their wardrobe swings wildly from masc, to androgynous, to femme, and from “90’s Hot Topic” to modern “Express,” so it’s anybody’s guess how they’ll look on any given day.
As much of a pain in the ass as Juno can be, I don’t know where I’d be without them. I just wish I had half their confidence and “if you have a problem with me, I’ll fucking bite you”attitude. Maybe the gym is part of the answer to that. Not that managing to run a mile without collapsing will grow my dick to average size or anything, but there has to be more to confidence than dick size, doesn’t there?
I already paid for a full month’s membership, so I might as well give it an honest try. If all else fails, I can look at it as a fun anthropological experience—learning how the gymbo behaves in its natural habitat.
And Iguessa couple more training sessions with Butch won’t be the worst thing in the world.
BUTCH
“Now there’s a picture for the dating profile.”
With one hand in a bag of barbecue chips and the other casually down my pants, I look over to see Fender actually taking a picture of me with his phone.
“Hey,” I grumble.
“Serious question: What happens if you get those hands mixed up?”
I pull my hand out of the bag and lick the flavored dust off my fingers with a shrug.
