Micah’s husky voice came out both sincere and needy. “I’m an artist. I don’t know you, but I know you’re beautiful.”
Oh my. It was a wonder he got anyone to talk to him at all without thinking he was a pervert. Or maybe they did, and they were into it. They weren’t the only ones.
Cosmo leaned back in bed and coiled a lock of damp hair around his finger. “How do you know I’m beautiful?”
“Because all bodies are. I’d like to draw your portrait over the phone. Will you talk to me?”
“I suppose… But shouldn’t we introduce ourselves first before getting so chummy?”
“No. Don’t tell me your name. I don’t want to know. But pronouns are okay.”
“Do you say this to everyone you draw?”
“Yes.”
This was downright strange, and Cosmo curled his toes in anticipation of whatever came next. “What do you need from me?”
“Describe yourself, please. I’ll love it best if you’re honest, with details I can picture, but I also don’t want to make you embarrassed or dysphoric, so whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I have dark, rather voluminous curly hair. It’s layered and the back reaches my shirt collar.” He imagined Micah’s black hole gaze soaking him in, studying each detail of his features. “I’m white with an angular jaw, high cheekbones, and a cleft chin. I’ve been told I have ‘soulful’ eyes. I’m five-eight and of slim build.” Hesitating, he said, “I know you asked for details thatdon’tmake me uncomfortable… But I don’t like how big my feet are. I used to tell myself it was because all the cute shoes only came in smaller sizes, but I think it’s actually dysphoria. I get the same feeling if I don’t have at least a little bit of makeup on.”
“Thank you for telling me that. Are you okay with describing your hands?”
That was rather specific. Cosmo didn’t have unusual hands as far as he could tell. “Well, there are five fingers on each.”
Micah chuckled. “Tell me more? Hands are my favorite.”
The thought of Micah deriving pleasure from Cosmo’s descriptions made him study himself for something to say. “They’re narrow with long fingers. Larger than I’d like, but I don’t mind as long as my nails are painted. Right now they’re a lovely shade of lavender. I have prominent veins and bony wrists... Do you like that?”
Breathing filled the receiver. Micah whispered. “Very much.”
Cosmo’s cock throbbed, and he squirmed in the sheets. “There’s a garnet ring on my index finger, and a Leo zodiac sign tattooed on the side of my middle finger. I have freckles on my knuckles, and deep life lines.”
“I want to touch you.”
Clenching his thighs, Cosmo said, “Oh, darling, do tell.”
“I want to caress the rosy pink knobs of your knuckles. I want to press my lips to your fingertips. I want your calloused palm to slip against mine, the soft webbing of our fingers joined together.”
Micah was only talking about hands, but he might as well have undressed Cosmo with his words. “I don’t know how you can make that sound so sexy, but I am completely turned on. Is this part of your usual script? Do you say this to others?”
“Only you.”
“Are you aroused right now?”
“No.”Micah’s voice grew thick.“But my heart has a throbbing hard-on for you. I like you so much.”
“Aw! That is both cute and vulgar.” And Cosmo was at risk of feeling the same. But if he wasn’t careful, his heart would have a throbbing puncture instead, a gaping wound where Micah used to be before Zedd chased him away. “Will you describe yourself forme? Your forearms, please. Dear lord.”
Micah’s voice took on an amused lilt. “They’re lean and solid, dusted in dark hair. I suppose you like the way the shadows fall across my tendons? The defined ropes of muscle running under my skin?”
The phone grew sweaty in Cosmo’s grip. He wiped his hand on the sheets and pressed the phone back against his ear.
“Veins branching like rivers on a map, winding down my wrists, over my hands, and across my knuckles. I want to wrap these arms around you and press you against me. I want to crush you.”
Cosmo let out a small moan and pulled at the straining fabric of his briefs.
“Can I text you tomorrow with something weird?” Micah asked.
