“My person?” someone asks, confused.
Magnus shrugs. “They appear to be enby. I wasn’t going to call them ‘my man’ until I knew their pronouns.”
“They/them,” the person supplies and laughs.
Smiling Magnus points to the person. “See.” To the person he says, “Please delete that video since we didn’t give our consent to be filmed.”
The person sighs, but taps their phone and looks up. “Deleted, but you should know everyone who isn’t here is in the group chat, and a bunch of us are keeping the chat updated, and pics have definitely been shared.”
Magnus perks up. “Wait. There’s a group chat? What platform? Can I join it? Purely for research purposes?”
“I’ll ask the group chat if they want you to join, but they probably don’t. It’s a place for fans and probably isn’t a safeplace for you,” a girl beside us says. “Fan groups aren’t really for creators, you know.”
“It’s probably enough to know that it exists,” I tell Magnus.
“Oh no, we have three of your graduate student mods in the group chat. They’re saying they can take any notes you want for your research,” the girl says, waving her phone at us.
“Oh, well, that’s fine. Can you tell them to make a point to visit with me during office hours this week so I can get data point parameters to them?” Magnus asks, fully into his research mode now.
I let out a little sigh, giving up my date until we can get out of here. Magnus in research mode is pretty fucking amazing, but he’s not exactly date material. I’ll have to wait to get his attention again, but maybe that means instead of watching a movie on my bed, next time I take him to the drive-in.
But hey, at least he’s open to making our outings dates, that’s a step in the right direction.
Chapter 24
Magnus
Flopping face firstinto the huge bed that is the centerpiece of the honeymoon suite in the hotel in Cancun, I groan with relief. “I’ve never in my life had such a stressful travel experience,” I complain as Trent’s weight joins mine.
Our flight was delayed on the runway, and our connecting flight took off without us, but we managed to get on another airline’s flight to Mexico, then when we landed we were delayed by customs. It took four hours to get that sorted, and by the time we found a taxi to take us to the hotel, it was well after midnight and the nighttime taxi rates are higher. The guy was nice and got us to the hotel quickly, and Trent tipped him extra because everything about getting here was awful except him.
“Genuinely surprised we made it here before they gave our room away,” Trent agrees as his hand finds my calf and then he starts taking off my shoes. “The kitchen is open twenty four hours. I’m going to order room service; do you want a meal or a snack?”
“Food,” I groan as my shoes thunk to the floor. I curl up on my side, turning to face him and pulling my feet onto the bed. “How are you not completely exhausted?” He looks so much better than I feel.
A half smile appears on the right side of his face, and he reaches over to stroke my curls. “I am, but I can’t sleep on an empty stomach, and I fully intend to sleep in tomorrow. This is a vacation, even if we are filming, and I’m going to enjoy it. Spring break in Cancun. Woo.” He laughs and stands, walking over to the phone where the room service menu is.
“So far, I’m not impressed, but I might change my mind after food, a shower, and a whole night’s sleep.” This last week has been as exhausting for me as for any of my students. Keeping up with teaching, grading, and my own student work has taken up more time than I expected. Thankfully, Trent was able to keep our subscribers entertained with his solo vids while I was busy.
His hand comes down on my butt, and then he starts talking into the phone, using four years of high school and three years of college Spanish. Damn that’s… Well, I don’t know, but I love that he’s comfortable enough in a second language to order over the phone. Hmm, if the way my dick’s reacting to listening to him using Spanish is any indication, I guess I think fluency in a secondary language is sexy.
That’s new. I like it. I like knowing my dick enjoys a working mind and the discipline of learning a new skill. That feels good to me.
When Trent hangs up the phone, I turn, stretching out with my arms behind my neck and smiling at him. “So, it turns out I might be a little sapiosexual.”
Trent arches a brow at me. “I’ve heard that word, but I have no context for it.”
“Sexually aroused by intelligence,” I explain with a shrug as Trent pulls his shirt over his head. My stomach dips with nerves, but I reassure myself that Trent isn’t going to judge me for my preferences.
He grunts thoughtfully. “That would explain Dr. Castonia.”
I grimace at the reminder of the woman who facilitated one of my graduate classes last semester. Just before the first week of school, I met her at a conference for educators that I was keynoting. We enjoyed each other’s company at a social event, andenjoyed each other’s companyin the privacy of my hotel suite afterward, and then she ended up being the professor for my biomedical ethics course. Regrettably, I was unequipped for how to deal with having had sex with my professor, so I dropped the course, delaying my advancement in gaining a master’s in neuroscience.
“I was very interested in sex with her after we talked,” I admit with a sigh. “It also explains my sexual interest in a few others.”
Trent chuckles as he digs around his suitcase, pulling out a pair of blue pajama pants with tacos on them. He strips his pants and underwear off in one go and pulls the pajamas on, and a little thread of giddiness winds through me knowing that we’re comfortable nude together now. There’s a strange sort of freedom in that. I don’t have to worry about his privacy and modesty like I do about the guys in the locker room before or after my workout.
That’s a nice advancement of the intimacy of our friendship.
