We both stop talking and he huffs out a laugh.
“Go ahead.” I bounce my knee under the table. His nerves are makingmenervous. Maybe he wanted to talk to let me down gently? Buy me a smoothie and tell me I’m not his type?
“Okay, I’m not exactly sure how to do this, so I’m just going to rip the Band-Aid off.” His eyes roam over to the window, and he folds his straw wrapper into a tiny accordion, his knee bumping mine under the table with our shared anxious bouncing. “I’m trans.”
My leg stops bouncing and I blink at him in surprise. That definitely wasn’t what I was expecting him to tell me. His attention is still fixed on the people walking past the large window, which gives me a few seconds to get my face under control, so he won’t see the shock and think that I have a problem with him at all. I just… had no idea. And as I look at him, taking in the light shadow of stubble on his chin and the masculine shape of his body. I remember him grinding against me when we kissed, but did I actually feel his dick? I feel like my brain is an old computer about to overheat from the strain of trying to work the whole thing out.
“That’s cool, Rocky… or, wait… shit… is that like deadnaming you? Have I been getting your pronouns wrong the whole time?”
He finally jerks his attention away from the window, and when his eyes land on me, there’s a sparkle of… something in them. Amusement? Affection? It’s hard to tell. He shakes his head, his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to laugh.
“No. I was…” He clears his throat and shakes his head again, then starts over. “Iama man, it just took some medical help to get everything right.” He says it confidently, shifting forward in his seat and leaning over the table just a little bit towards me. “I’m going to take that as my third big win for today though that you assumed I was assigned male.”
I run my eyes over him again, and, yeah, there’s absolutely nothing feminine about him. A flutter moves through me too. Not that his gender has anything to do with me, but I can’t help a few seconds of selfish relief. If he was telling me he was really a woman, then this crush that’s been growing since he first stepped into Sweat would have come crashing down. I’m gay, so if he was actually ashe, that would have thrown a real wrench into things. But he’s a dude, so at least that’s one crisis averted.
“That’s cool,” I say a second time, not sure what else you’resupposedto say when someone comes out as trans. Shit, am I fucking this up? Then another thought hits me. “Wait, is that why you said you only wanted to kiss?”
Percy’s cheeks pink and he takes another sip of his smoothie, making that same disgusted face, then pushing the drink away from himself like he’s worried if it’s too close, he’ll accidentally keep drinking it.
“It’s complicated, but basically, yeah. If we did anything more than kissing, certain things would have been super obvious, and it’s not really the kind of thing I wanted to explain for the first time in the heat of the moment… or out in the woodsin the middle of the night.” He grimaces, and my stomach drops, the small amount of smoothie in my gut turning to cement.
“You thought I might hurt you or something?” I choke out the words as all the air shrivels in my lungs.
His eyes go wide, and his expression turns immediately apologetic. Percy reaches across the table towards me but stops short before his hand connects with mine.
“No, not really, I just…” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “You have to be cautious when you’re trans, that’s all.”
The worry I had a second ago that he thought I might be capable of hurting him turns into something else, something white hot that churns in my gut and surges through my veins.
“Has anyone ever hurt you when you told them? Tell me who and I’ll?—”
“Butch.” He puts his hand on mine and squeezes my fingers. “Calm down. No one has hurt me. Like I said, I was just being cautious.”
“Oh.” I let out a breath and manage to relax. “Good, because if anyone ever does…”
The worry on Percy’s face turns into a smile, but there’s a spark of defiance in his eyes. “I can take care of myself, Butch. I always have.”
I grunt and nod. I would protect any one of my friends, and Percy definitely qualifies. If anyone hurts him—hell, if anyone even gives him shit—I’ll tear their arms off. I didn’t know it until now, but I think that’s what I’ve been training my whole life for. To protect… people. People who matter to me… like Percy. But I get his need to protect himself too.
“We should push harder on your weight training, get you strong enough to rip arms out all on your own.”
His eyes widen and he sputters another laugh.
“We’ll add arm tearing to my goals,” he says. “Oh, shoot, I have to go, or I’ll miss my bus.” He jumps up out of his chair,grabs his drink, then pauses to look at me. “So, we’re cool, right? You still want to be my personal trainer?”
“Of course I do. Why the hell would that change anything?”
“Thanks, Butch,” he says quietly, then hurries out, taking his drink with and chucking it into the garbage on his way.
I watch through the window as he jogs down the block to the bus stop. I haven’t been with a trans guy before, but who cares? I try to imagine what difference it could possibly make and come up with nothing. Before he came out to me, I thought he had a cute ass, a sweet smile, and more strength and ambition than he realizes. None of that has changed. If anything, it just makes me more impressed with his strength, knowing what he probably had to go through just to be himself.
It also doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably not interested in anything long term with a meathead like me. But that’s fine too. Percy’s turning into an itch I’m dying to scratch, and Ithinkhe feels the same way. At least, I hope he does.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PERCY
Butch seemedto take my coming out fine earlier in the week, but I’m still a little anxious this morning, walking a little slower than usual on my way to Sweat. It’s definitely not an ideal morning to be walking all the way from my apartment to Boystown in shorts and a T-shirt. The breeze coming off the lake and the October chill that’s fully settled into the air have the hair on my arms standing up with goose bumps and my nipples hard enough to cut glass. I cross my arms over my chest and walk a little faster.
