8. Jeffrey

Chapter eight

Jeffrey

S J's shop, Fluid Fashion, is amazing. I'd seen it while it was under construction, but I'd been out of town for the grand opening, and honestly, I've been a little nervous to go there since. I assumed it would be like being wrapped up in SJ's world of perfect expression, both humbling and… nauseating, because I would clearly not belong.

I was right.

I instantly love and hate being here because everything is all so peak queer indulgence, no fucks given, like all the people I admire—and am nothing like.

Fluid Fashion is in the queer district, not far from the clubs, and neighbored by a queer owned art gallery and, naturally, a coffee shop. The queerest of queer coffee shops, so much so that it's almost difficult to look at it or go inside because even the bricks are rainbow colored. I know I should feel like I'm home on this street, like these are my people, but I always feel like I'm not living out loud enough to fit in .

The shop is beautifully designed and all SJ. Not only her taste, but with sections for genderqueer clothing, specific queer designers, drag, a wall of rainbow and other flag designs, and even with a nook of nicknacks, books, and some of the art from the neighboring gallery on consignment.

I think the biggest problem is that I don't know which section is mine, which is why I usually end up in clothing I can hide in.

"Is it overwhelming for you, Jeffrey?" Odai asks. "You seem troubled."

"Do I? Overwhelmed is sort of the norm for me when I'm out of my element." I pass my hand over the fabric of an incredibly soft cropped zip-up, black but with patchwork in pink and blue. It is so cool, but I would look ridiculous in it.

We separated with Cas and SJ practically from the entrance, since SJ ran squealing toward someone she knew—a common occurrence, given she knows and loves everyone.

We're nearing the drag section, but it's a gradual change. First, just more feminine clothing, then some costumes, similar to my Mattie wear, and finally, glam city, hardcore drag, including makeup supplies, wigs, waist cinchers. I am maybe a little drawn to a powder blue boa with silver tinsel in it that would match most of my Mattie pieces.

But another part of a costume isn't what I want.

"There is little to your liking?" Odai asks, brow scrunched as if trying to understand .

"The first time you saw me, I was dressed basically like this." I gesture at a bustled skirt and corset nearby. "And I do love it. Sometimes. But I'm not an impersonator, as you put it. And I don't want to be a woman. I don't want to be nonbinary either." I look across the store at the more neutral or genderfluid section, and then realize Odai's newest brow scrunch might be because he doesn't know that word yet. "Someone who falls in between and is neither male nor female."

"Ah. Yes, I have known many who fit that description. People are vastly varied creatures."

"We are. But I don't seem to be anything. Not anything that feels entirely right." Surrounded by so many pieces and people that just scream identity, mine feels even more swallowed.

"But you take such joy in your friend." Odai indicates SJ, where she and Cas are beside the checkout counter, still chatting with the friend they ran into.

"Well, yeah. SJ knows who she is. Cas too if a little more muted about it. It seems like everyone here knows. And now I feel bad because I don't know what to buy but I need to buy something . I want to show SJ my support. This place is amazing, and I am so happy for her that it's doing well." I try to move on. There is a pair of over the knee boots that are absolute sex on legs, literally, with ruffles as trim up top. Next, past the costume and drag area, is clubwear, mostly skimpier attire, like mesh, crop tops, short-shorts .

"You could wish for me to pick something for you," Odai suggests.

That would make this easier, not having to deal with my usual decision fatigue.

Or rising panic attack.

"I absolutely wish that!" I say. "I would love it if you could pick something for me, Odai. Something you think I'd like or that you think would look good on me."

"There is nothing in this store, Jeffrey, that would not look good on you." Odai takes my hand again, lifts it to his mouth, and kisses it, before leading me through the rest of the store.

I stop worrying about what I might want to buy and enjoy watching Odai's excitement while he shops. At the wall of flag focused clothing and accessories, I explain the differences to him, and he ends up choosing a pansexual scarf for himself—good to know—not basic color-blocked, but a mixed design of pink, yellow, and teal that looks really nice with his teal and ivory outfit.

This so feels like a shopping date with a boyfriend, which I don't think I've ever gone on before.

"You can wish for more, you know," Odai says once we've circled the store and are back near the beginning. He hasn't chosen something for me yet, but also doesn't seem to be looking anymore, like he's made up his mind and is leaving me in wait. "Small things. Simple things. Even seemingly innocuous desires can be some of the most gratifying to fulfill. "

"I guess it's still strange to think that I can wish for things. Like… if I broke my glasses?"

"I could fix them."

"If I wanted to… go home after this and watch a movie? With you ." It shouldn't feel strange asking out the man who I am basically on a date with now, but this is nothing like any relationship I've had before.

Odai smiles and turns to face me. "I have learned a bit about this cinema of yours. I have never seen anything like it of course. It was only on the cusp of invention last I was here. But I have always enjoyed performances. I would love to watch a movie with you, Jeffrey. So, consider that wish pending."

That Odai's answer is equated to a wish makes me frown. He still has my hand, but even if this feels like a date, it also feels like its own performance. "You'd love to because I'm your owner, right? Because you sort of have to?"

"No." Odai's smile drops with a fiercer scrunch to his brow, and he squeezes my hand tighter. " No . Let me reassure you again and again, Jeffrey. You are enjoyable company. It is my pleasure to serve you, but also to be with you. It would be a pleasure even if the amulet did not exist." He touches his fingers to where it is hidden beneath my sweatshirt, and his touch makes the metal feel warmer against my skin.

Calling this a relationship might be a stretch, but it could be the start of one. Right? I want it to be, to keep getting to know Odai and see where this leads, even if it is insane and super unconventional. "I believe you. I did wish for you to never lie. And I'm glad. Really glad. When we get back, we can watch—oh shit." Having responsibilities other than enjoying my day off suddenly strikes me. "I have grad work I need to finish first. But afterward?"

Most of my assignments are due Mondays by midnight because the Data Analysis professor understands we usually forget over the weekend and need Mondays to go oh shit . I actually got most of my work done on Saturday, so it shouldn't take me too long.

"I need, like, an hour max," I say, "and then, just you and me? Dinner, a movie, and whatever else we want to do for a date night?"

"Do you wish it?" Odai asks with a grin, teasing me now, though there is always an extra eagerness when he asks for what I want to be a wish. He did admit that he needs to fulfill wishes, so what's the harm in indulging him as much he indulges me?

"I wish for all of it," I say.

"You two find everything okay?" SJ swoops in with Cas trailing behind her. "What do you think of the shop? Are you getting anything?"

While I am still computing which of those questions to answer first, Odai beats me to it.

"The shop is wonderful, SJ. Thank you for bringing us. I can imagine wanting to return here many times in the future. I found a lovely scarf for myself, and for Jeffrey, I am getting him this." He reaches to pluck a hangered item from a rack without even having to take a step or retract the hand holding mine.

He claims the cropped zip-up.

But wait. Getting me?

"You don't need to buy it for me!" I protest. "I want to support the shop too!"

"But you are. Without you, I wouldn't be here." Odai kisses my hand again, and then walks away to make his purchases.

Cas snorts. "Bit of a sugar daddy too, huh? Nice . I might even be jealous."

SJ snickers and playfully smacks Cas's shoulder.

" Stop ," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Although I can't deny that a sugar daddy is sort of exactly what Odai is since his greatest desire is to keep granting mine.

I have no idea what I am going to wear that hoodie with, but I can't deny being excited to own it. I'm still a little curious how Odai has money, but I guess small manifestations don't draw much attention.

SJ and Cas are up for hanging out more, but I have the honest excuse of grad work to finish. I'm not too disappointed to part ways, since it means that after my assignment is submitted, I get to have Odai all to myself for something actually resembling normal.

Odai

Jeffrey's chosen movie as my introduction to cinema is called The Princess Bride . He spent quite some time debating before choosing it but insisted it encapsulates almost anything I could want to understand about cinema storytelling. Humor, romance, action, a grand fairytale told in two time periods, as a storyteller recounts an epic tale to his grandson, and through the magic of cinema, the audience is able to witness that tale rather than only imagine.

I quite enjoy it, and the way it feels to have Jeffrey tucked beside me as we lie upon his bed and watch the movie on the large television screen I conjured for us.

We were going to watch it on his laptop, which he apologized for.

"Sorry, I don't have a TV, so the screen's a little small for this, but I'm sure you'll still enjoy it."

"Jeffrey," I'd said, "you realize how silly it is to apologize for not having something that you can easily wish for me to remedy."

"Oh! I guess you're right." He'd laughed and with each successive wish, I felt the tingle of being sated. "Um, I wish to have a stand—oh! A chest at the end of my bed. I've always wanted one of those old cedar chests. And I wish for a sixty-inch TV to be resting on it that I can cast movies to from my laptop or phone. Do I need to explain what casting means?"

"No. So long as you understand it, I can grant it."

And I did.

The pillows are propped behind us so we can sit up against the headboard, but we are still mostly lying together, and Jeffrey fits wonderfully in my arms. He doesn't talk much during the film, saying he doesn't want to spoil it for me, but from time to time, he lets me know when a line or moment is his favorite. He has many favorites, and I catch him watching me for my reactions more than enjoying the movie himself.

It is not typical of my owners for my desires to matter too.

I hunger, as I always do, as time passes without a new wish made, but there is a way aside from wishes that I can sustain myself. At least now, in this earlier stage of the emptiness that grows in me, I can be sated on Jeffrey alone.

When the movie goes black and the room is darker for it, I turn my head to look at him, seemingly so small in my arms and blinking back at me behind his large glasses with the loveliest of golden green eyes.

"Did you like it?" Jeffrey asks.

"Oh yes. And I am inspired by it, for one cannot hear tales of the most passionate, most pure of all kisses, and not want to rival that."

Jeffrey giggles as if he thinks I am jesting, but then his face fills with wonder when I continue to look at him, waiting for permission to do just that. "W-we, um… might need to work our way up to that kind of kiss. It was perfect for Westley and Buttercup because they love each other." There is an aching hope in those words, and though I know I am getting too attached too quickly, for once, my personal desires might be stronger than my curse.

I want to answer that hope, even if it hasn't been wished of me.

Even if love isn't something I can grant.

"Then, Jeffrey, shall we start our journey toward working our way to perfect?" I tilt his chin up and lean closer, but still, I wait.

"Yes," he says, not a wish, just desire, and I relish in its taste as I kiss him.

He enjoys my tongue slit and long from my cursed form. It is as much me as the guise I wear, so I am glad he enjoys it. I am glad for how he moans when my tongue coils with his.

Jeffrey pulls back to take off his glasses and deposits them on the nightstand, then returns with zeal to kiss me again. His body is drowned within his oversized clothing. I reach beneath the large sweatshirt to touch his slim waist, and I am further pleased by how he leans into my touch. We shimmy down the bed, so we are no longer propped up, and I hold him tight to me, my hand now up around the back of his sweatshirt.

"Odai," Jeffrey pants, bucking against me.

"Yes, beautiful one?"

"Can I touch you this time? I wish to. If you want me to!" The wry smile he wears when he adds "wish" after a request says he thinks it a game, something almost innocent. It isn't innocent, but because it soothes my hunger, it is easy to get lost in him. And I do want him to touch me.

"That is my pleasure to grant," I say and take his hand, sliding it down the front of me and into my trousers, the waist of which has an easy stretch. I do not wear undergarments, and Jeffrey's eyes widen, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, as he discovers this and boldly wraps his fingers around me.

"You're cut. Circumcised, I mean."

"As are you."

"Yeah, but… you're from Babylon." He laughs.

"Some eastern tribes did not follow the practice, but I came from a western tribe that did. Would you prefer otherwise, Jeffrey?"

"No! It's just, um, interesting to know." He licks his lips again as he starts to stroke me. His hands are small, very much so compared to mine, but not lacking in strength or dexterousness.

As he strokes me, he looks at my lips, then my eyes, then my lips, and is oh so subtly rocking against my thigh. More of my own desires stir, and I am growing fat in his hand, as I ask, "Would you like to feel us together?"

Jeffrey's eyes snap to mine again. "Yes?"

I think he doesn't quite know what I mean, so I lead again, first sliding down my trousers so he can better take hold of me. He looks at us then, watching between us as his pale fingers glide over my dark and ripening cock. I reach for the clasp of his jeans and tug them and his underwear down his thighs.

Jeffrey's pink prick bobs up to greet me. I still his hand on mine, but only so I can move our bodies closer until our cocks touch. Then I wrap both my hand and his around us. Together, we stroke, and Jeffrey whimpers, pressing his forehead to my chest for balance.

Even like this I can tell his eyes are open and on us as our hands move and our hips rock. His whimpers grow more insistent, and when I speed up my strokes, my rutting, he matches my pace. I whimper too, and soon, we are a harmony of low moans overlapping. We rut and stroke through the growing slickness like dawn is approaching and our communing must end when it does.

The slide of Jeffrey's hot, wet cock against mine looses some of the monster in me. My eyesight sharpens, fangs sprout, with my tongue already slit. My nails become points that I am careful to not graze along his skin too sharply. So much more of me could change, but I hold back, and only a ripple of color like the fall of a sudden shadow turns my skin violet.

Jeffrey tilts his head up and licks the bob of my throat like he is chasing the color. He latches on just to the side of it and sucks hard in the same moment that he comes. He comes and comes and ruts into his mess, causing more friction until I come too.

It has been my privilege to bring him pleasure as a painted and adorned damsel, but to share pleasure is the true honor, to be with him unadorned and unpainted just as thrilling .

Jeffrey licks lightly at the skin he suckled, and then tilts his head up higher. The amethyst hue is gone from my skin, but he reaches with his unsoiled hand to tap my fangs through the slack of my lips. "Your incubus is showing." He chuckles.

"Would you like for me to remedy that, Jeffrey?"

"No! Only if you want to. I like the other way you look."

"And the feel of my tongue?" I slither it out in a flicking tease to catch his fingers.

He chuckles again. "Definitely that."

"Would you like to wish us clean, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, please. I wish that."

The mess is gone in a blink, though our naked skin still connects when we unwind our hands, and I feel Jeffrey twitch against my cock, as he is softening. If he wished it—if he wanted it—I would help him harden again gladly.

But though he kicks away his jeans, he adjusts his underwear back over him, so I pull up my trousers in kind. Jeffrey snuggles into my arms, and it is a strange yet wonderful thing to have some of my sharper edges out while holding him, such as my claws gently touching his cheek as I brush his hair aside.

"Can you… maybe stay? Just until I fall asleep," he says. "I wish for you to keep holding me until then."

I smile, kiss his temple, and whisper, "It is my honor, Jeffrey, to answer that with… as you wish ."