“Obviously…” He stared Sal up and down in a way that made their pussy flutter.
“… but that’s not all I want.”
Sal wasn’t ready to give up the flirting. They leaned forward, allowing their cleavage to swell onto the table. “What do you want?”
“I wanna date you. Get together, I mean.” He swallowed. “Can you, uh, stop doing that? It’s hard to concentrate.”
Good, Sal thought, pushing their elbows into their sides so the problem intensified. “I don’t think I’m ready to date.”
“Anyone? Or me?”
Goddammit.“Do you even want a partner? Like a serious one?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Goddammit again.“Then why don’t you, like, go find someone on your vibe?”
He leaned closer, his cheekbones bathed in candlelight. “Because you’re on my vibe.”
Triple fucking goddammit.“I don’t know?—”
“If you weren’t into me, I’d fuck off. But unless I’m reading this wrong, you are into me. So, I don’t see the problem.”
You. You are my problem: you and your football player archetypal manliness.
“There’s no problem,” Sal lied again.
“So, you’ll go out with me? Be my girlfriend, or whatever it’s called when a non-binary person dates a guy?”
His words slashed at Sal’s heart. How were they supposed to explain all this stuff to a guy who couldn’t even suggest ‘partner’ as a nice neutral couple term? “I just don’t think you know what going out with me will be like.”
“Then tell me.”
“Why don’t you tellmewhy you want to go out withme?”
He frowned, his eyes crinkling adorably at the corners. “Because you’re awesome. You’re so funny and cute, and I could listen to you talk forever, and I like how your skin feels and think you’re hot. Is that enough?”
“Uh…”
He moved closer, his mouth now inches from Sal’s. “Also, I pull off to your photos, like, twice a night. It’s a fucking problem how sexy you are.”
Sal turned away, trying to keep the massive shit-eating smile from spreading across their face. “You are taking off, my friend, and I dunno where you’re gonna land...”
“In your pussy,” he whispered. “If you let me, I’ll stay there for hours.”
Jesus Christ…
Sal picked up the orange slice from the old fashioned and pinched it between their fingers. “I’m not saying I don’t want that?—”
“Good.”
“But you don’t get it. There are days where I completely feel like I’m a guy.” They looked into Curtis’ face, fully expecting to see disgust and only finding the same intense attraction.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he said.
“So, I go into boy mode and wear massive death metal t-shirts and baseball hats for a week, and you’re fine with that?”
“That sounds cute.”
