I roll my eyes again, but since they’re closed, he can’t see them. We return to kissing and petting and just… being together. I definitely chub up, but it’s not… I’d like to say it’s not arousal, but a hardening dick is certainly the very definition of arousal, right?
It doesn’t feel arousing in the way it did a week and a half ago. This is even less so than past make-out moments on the couch. It’s more intimate. Like my slightly chubbed cock makes the moment between us more personal. Is that a thing?
We fall asleep wrapped around each other, and I think it’s the first time in a very long time I’ve felt completely at peace. Maybe graysexual isn’t something I’ll identify with forever, but everyone grows and changes over time. Voss is right; situations, experiences, people… they all influence the moment.
Something about Voss specifically talks to my body in a way no one else ever has. I don’t know what it is about him, and while a few months ago, I’d have said I’m not in the least bit interested in experiencing sex like others talk about it, I am now. With Voss.
I’m excited to see what happens between us. I don’t feel repulsed as I have with past partners. I don’t feel pressured to perform. I don’t feel like Ineedto be someone for him. Most importantly, I don’t need to keep him at arm’s length in case I don’t feel like doing something with him one night.
I trust Voss. I trust that if I tell him I’m not feeling it, he’ll accept it. Without anger, without guilt, without bribery, and without making me feel shitty.
This is what everyone should feel. The safety and security, the comfort with a sexual partner like I feel with Voss. I love having the kind of relationship with him where we can kiss for a while and fall asleep wrapped up together.
More than anything, I love this feeling. I love being in someone’s arms. I love feeling their heartbeat against my body and their even breathing on my skin.
I may still feel guilty because I let Voss in when I pushed my friends away. But now I’m excited to talk to them. I’m excited to tell them what I learned about myself. It’s not the end of what I’ll learn about myself, and I think more than anything, that’ll help me avoid the asshole moments more than anything else.
I thought being asexual was the end-all answer. But it’s just the beginning.
9
VOSS
Azlan Deth is a scary motherfucker.Coming from someone who grew up with Loren Van Doren as a baby brother, that says a lot. His eyes are cold in a way that even Loren can’t pull off. He’s six feet, covered in dark tattoos, and has long hair. He almost always has chains around his wrists. I’ve always thought they were significant in some way though I’ve never asked.
He has his nipples pierced too. I know because his shirt is almost always too tight, which means I can see the enormous skull tattoo through the thin fabric—as well as those damn piercings.
It’s the cold, dead look in his eyes that gets me, though. I swear to fuck, he’s one of those people who you just know has a touch of the devil inside him, whether you believe in the devil or not.
There’s a comment inPeter Panwhen Peter notes that Captain Hook’s eyes turn red when he kills. I imagine Azlan’s doing the same.
He’s currently standing in my doorway with my oldest brother, Myro, as I finish a phone call. Azlan isn’t impatient, and yet, feeling his eyes on me makes my skin crawl.
“Yes, Mr. Marcucio. Your security is basic level, and that’s my price to fix it. There are no discounts for the rich; I’m not the government.”
Myro snorts.
I listen to Marcucio sputter angrily for a solid minute longer before I interrupt. “I have another meeting, so when you come to a decision, let me know. You should be warned that I bill for every lengthy phone rant about my prices. This was your single freebie. You get what you pay for, and there’s literally nothing you can offer or threaten me with that’s going to lower my price. However, if you’re a pain in the ass, there’s a ten percent asshole fee.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Goodbye, Mr. Marcucio.” I hang up the phone and spin in my chair to face my brother and Azlan. Myro laughs loudly. I’ve even managed to crack a smile on Azlan’s face. Score. That brings my tally up to twenty-eight.
“Take a seat.” I gesture to the wall lined with seating options. “I don’t need to remind you that many of them are not squarely fastened, correct?”
“I’ve fallen on my ass enough times in your presence to have learned my lesson,” Myro says. However, when he sits, there’s a moment where he nearly topples backward. It’s difficult to curb my laughter, but I manage.
Azlan remains standing.
“You’re not waiting for Dad to debrief?” I ask.
Myro frowns. “Dad told me I don’t need to debrief with him anymore.”
I can’t decide whether I want to frown or grin. We all know that Dad has been taking a step back and letting Myro take the lead—much to Myro’s internal panic.
“When are you going to talk to him?” I ask.
He sighs. “What am I going to say? ‘I don’t want to be the king of Van Doren, but neither do any of my brothers, so you need to stay in that position until you die, and then we’ll all watch the empire you built crumble because none of us are good enough to fill your shoes.’ How does that sound?”
