10. Claude

TEN

Claude

I should’ve waited until I had some caffeine or something in my body. The pancakes had enough sugar to wake me up, but it didn’t feel the same.

Ugh.

“I meant what I said when I told you I got things out of fucking someone,” I started. Maybe a bit crass, but it was the best I could do at this hour. “I like teasing and learning people’s reactions and using them against the person. It’s fun.”

I caught Arlene squirming. I smirked, quirking an eyebrow in a silent dare for her to say something.

She didn’t.

I didn’t know if I should praise her and tell her she was a good girl, or if I should chastise her for it.

Decisions.

In the end, I guessed it was better for both of our sanities if I just kept talking and made my point. I wasn’t sure what that point was, but that had never stopped me before.

“I don’t look at someone and say, I wanna jump their bones,” I said. “I still don’t. Sex is just something else I can do with someone to learn more about them and feel closer to them.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

“Does it?” I raised an eyebrow.

I didn’t want to sound like an asshole, but I was used to more skepticism or questioning glances.

For whatever reason, it made Arlene blush. “I’m not entirely clueless, when I have my wits around me.”

Gosh, that was so endearing.

It made me laugh.

“Good to know.”

“Is it?” She squealed.

It was sweet. More than that, it helped deflate the pressure building in my chest. “I’ve just never been so invested in something sexual before. Sure, it’s not like I have a plethora of experiences, but it’s still…”

I made myself take another bite of the fluffy pancake—not that it was a hardship—while I pondered how to continue.

“It just… I can obsess over labels quite a bit, if you didn’t notice with that last video.”

Arlene nodded, slowly. “Don’t we all, at some point?”

“Yeah.” I snorted. “You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson by now, though.”

“I don’t, actually.” Arlene’s eyes widened, as if she was surprised by her bluntness. In a way, I was too. I appreciated blunt, though. “It’s hard to say ‘fuck labels’ when everyone is holding those labels over our heads.”

I ran a hand through my hair. I should’ve grabbed something to tie it with, but I was not a morning person on a good day.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “It’s like, when I posted that video… I mean, I get that I went about it wrong. I was just thinking about monetizing and going viral, and I shouldn’t have used clickbait or any of those things. But… Suddenly, my entire experience as a human being was reduced to whether or not I was a true asexual. Whatever that meant.”

“The comment section got ugly for sure.” Arlene winced. “I did not participate, by the way. I never really commented or engaged at all.”

“It’s fine.” It was a relief, but today was not the day to stop and let that feeling sink in. “I guess a part of me is still bitter that I didn’t get any of the support I’d wanted. Deep down, I mean.”

“I get that.” Arlene nodded. “If you wanna talk about it… I swear I’m not saying it as a fan or anything like that.”

I grimaced. It wasn’t that she offered, or that I saw her as a fan who was after some fresh gossip. Hell, it wasn’t as if it mattered. I’d quit the world of YouTube years ago. There was no reputation to damage—or salvage, for that matter. That ship had sailed a long time ago.

Then again, I should probably talk about it at some point. If anything else, it was an elephant in the room hovering every time I let someone in for real. And I was the one bringing it up time and time again. That had to mean something.

“I know.” I sighed. “It’s just, as cliché as it is, I didn’t have an… easy time, coming out. With my family or anyone else at the time, really. And I don’t know how to talk about that video without relating it to all that shit.”

“I’m sorry.” Arlene reached out her hand.

I grabbed it on instinct, intertwining our fingers. It was strange. I didn’t want people going around thinking I was super affectionate, but I didn’t mind it with her.

Man, I really had it bad.

Was this what they’d talked about once at a munch? Sub-frenzy? Dom-frenzy had to be a thing, too. I might not be an expert on everything kink, but it made sense that there were equivalents.

“Uh, thanks?” I never quite knew what to answer when talk involved my past. Most days, it was easy to be focused on the present and the life I’d built for myself. A few days a year, though, it hit a bit harder. I wasn’t too ashamed to admit I turned into a bit of a recluse then. “But yeah. I guess it’s just one of those days I’m in my head more than usual.”

I didn’t know there was a day when I wasn’t in my head. Perhaps what I meant was that I wasn’t as good as hiding it today.

“That’s fine. We can just chill on the couch.”

There was no way I could tell her, but Arlene looked like an overexcited puppy trying to hold that excitement in right now. It was a good thing that I was coming to the realization that I really liked physical touch with her.

“Sure. After pancakes.”

“Right. Of course.”

I chuckled. I’d been the one talking, but I’d also eaten at least double what she had. Too bad I wouldn’t feel self-conscious about it. I’d never been the kind of person who lost their appetite, especially not when it came to desserts or anything sweet.

Arlene could really do desserts. I was doomed once she learned how easy it would be to blackmail me into everything and anything with them.

I digressed, though.

“Couch?” Arlene asked.

I would’ve nodded if she hadn’t started to gather everything.

Look, I was more than okay with having Ben or Julian mend for themselves. Ben and Julian didn’t cook for me, though. They were even more useless than I was—Ben more so.

Arlene didn’t fall into that category—of useless. I was even afraid to ask how long she’d been awake before I came down.

Even my limited cooking knowledge said pancakes didn’t take very long to make, but she must’ve had to figure out where everything else was first. My kitchen wasn’t the tidiest space in the house. Besides, she’d looked way too awake.

Either she was a morning person, or she’d had time to actually wake up.

“Lemme,” I protested before she made her way all over to the kitchen.

“It really is fine.”

“I don’t care.” I jutted my chin up. “Besides, I have a system.”

“A… system.” Arlene blinked.

“With my dishwasher,” I clarified.

It was actually true. I stood by the fact that my kitchen could be ten times better, but one thing it wasn’t was dirty.

“Oh. Okay, then.”

Thankfully, my system wasn’t super elaborate or took a lot of time. I hadn’t realized how much my skin would prickle with awareness just because someone was watching me put plates in an electrical appliance.

Once that was done, it meant going back to the couch. I sat down first, and Arlene followed. For a second, I watched, wondering. Was she going to sit right next to me now that we’d had sex? Or was she going to feel more self-conscious and keep her distance?

After one second where she stood still, probably debating the options in her head, Arlene chose a middle ground of sorts. Our knees brushed together, but she was still theoretically on her side of the couch.

I could so easily pull her closer if I wanted, though.

I wasn’t planning on doing it yet, but it was always good to know what my options were.

“Did you want to watch something specific?”

“I’m good with whatever,” Arlene rushed to answer.

It made me suspicious right away. Then again, it could just be her nerves. I should remind myself to slow my roll—we’d only just met, pretty much. I might not be processing last night yet, but we had to be responsible here, right?

“Okay. Netflix has baking shows, right?”

That got her talking again about the last season of a show she hadn’t watched yet.

Good. One thing I didn’t have to decide from scratch. I really was not a TV person. The main reason I had one was that it came with the house when I signed the lease. I’m not sure I would’ve bought one otherwise. My laptop worked just fine on the rare occasion I wanted to watch something.

“You’re going to have to explain everything like I’m five.”

Arlene squeaked. “Uh, sure. I mean, might be hard, but I’ll try.”

I nodded. Maybe after watching a couple of episodes, talking about The Video TM would feel less asphyxiating. Or it would come up naturally in conversation, and I wouldn’t clam up completely.

For now, I was happy to hear her theories about the different judges and why it didn’t make any sense that one of the women was there to begin with.

She was probably right. I was once invited to judge a local dancing competition. I knew nothing about dancing.

I also knew that, unlike me, many people accepted those invites for the hype of it.

Ugh. I didn’t want to spend today thinking about how much the influencer world sucked. It wasn’t as if I could disconnect from it during the week—who would’ve thought influencers were the main employers of the PR company that took a chance on me? But still.

I’d never been a huge fan—the shine had faded pretty damn fast—and that wasn’t going to change now.

“Okay, what’s wrong with those cookies now?” I teased in my driest tone possible.

Arlene had been nitpicking absolutely everything since they started baking. It looked fine to me, but I wasn’t the expert here.

And the way she huffed and got all indignant was adorable as fuck.

“I mean, nothing per se.” She was chewing on her lip, though. Poker would not be her thing. Then again, it could be fun to talk her into playing strip poker sometime. I had never played, but I imagined it would be fun to see just how flushed she could get. “I would’ve just added a mix of dark and milk chocolate chips to elevate the overall flavor.”

“Is that a thing?” I frowned.

“It’s totally a thing. Lots of fancy bakeries do it,” she said. My arm found the back of her head. Her hair was stupidly soft. “My grandma learned it from a baker that lived down the street.”

It did not surprise me that her family came from a place with fancy bakers down the street. It wasn’t a bad thing—just an observation about the way she held herself sometimes. I wasn’t one to talk, anyway. As little contact as I now had with them , I grew up privileged.

Too privileged, some might argue. It had taken a lot of deconstructing myself to get to where I was today. It hadn’t started when I left, of course. There was a reason I always was considered the black sheep of the family, way before I’d come out as anything.

“Is your grandma still alive?”

“Yeah.” Arlene shifted on the couch so she was looking right at me. “Just turned eighty a couple months ago. My parents keep offering for her to move to a townhouse right next to theirs that’s up for sale, but she’s stubborn.”

“That’s nice.”

I ignored the twinge of disappointment and bitterness. I’d love to share stories about my family, too. They’d taken that away from me.

Arlene leaned into my hand. I swear she’d be purring if she was a cat. I liked running my fingers through her hair.

“Yeah.”

I was glad she didn’t ask me about my family. Then again, she followed me. It was another reason why I liked hanging out with people who knew of me. They’d watched all the vlogs where I talked about them, so they knew not to go there.

She was probably remembering those right now. It would usually make me squirm in discomfort, but… As anxious as she could be, something about her presence was soothing for me.

“Are we still going to that kink club on Wednesday?” she asked.

“Sure. If you still want to?”

Today was not the day to assume what she was or wasn’t thinking. I’d rather play it safe—and hope she didn’t misinterpret it as something else.

“Yeah.” Arlene bobbed her head up and down. “I really do. And you wanna keep hanging out, right?”

I did, but this was getting ridiculous. There was no way we didn’t look like two fumbling teenagers.

Back to getting things moving. “I wanna keep kissing you, too.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Arlene breathed.

I tracked the way her throat bobbed up and down. One hand over her chest showed her heart was picking up speed.

“Good.”

I forgot all about the baking contest, then. Some of the voices were slightly irritating, but they were soon little more than background noise. Nothing existed but the heat in her mouth as she opened up to me and the way she breathed, almost shallow. The way she leaned back against the couch, too. Her hips lifted up slightly, a moan trapped between her lips before I caught it.

“I want to keep doing more of this with you,” I said.

One part of me just wanted to tease and see how far I could drown her in pleasure. I owed her more honest talk, though, and I wasn’t sure she felt confident enough to ask for it, yet. It would be an issue if it didn’t get better down the line, but…

Huh.

Now I was the one going ten steps ahead.

“Me too,” Arlene whispered against my mouth.

Words eluded me more than they usually did. It was a good thing that I had the excuse of kissing her now. Her lips were soft and pliant, and she smelled of those pancakes she hadn’t eaten many of.

It was still addicting.

“I don’t know how to describe what I’m doing, or feeling, or… any of that,” I admitted after moving so I was straddling her hips. There were no thoughts about exposing my body. It just felt comfortable. “Which, shit, it makes me sound like an asshole, but?—”

“I get it,” Arlene cut me off. “It’s fine.”

Huh.

I was the one interrupting her all the time.

This had to be the first time she took charge of the conversation.

I liked it.