Chapter One

Marinos

D ecember 1st, nine years later.

The cardboard sign I was holding squeaked against my sweaty fingers. I was standing in the arrivals section of John F. Kennedy International with my heart in my throat and my eyes peeled wide for any trace of my best friend.

Kert would come through the door any second, and I’d see him in person for the first time in four years.

I wrapped my tentacles around my waist to calm my rumbling stomach. Who cared about eating when you were picking up your bestie from a nine-and-a-half-hour flight from Berlin? Not me. Sure, we’d been texting and chatting over video, but meeting face-to-face was a whole new ballgame.

An older white couple passing me spared a glance of interest at the tentacles sticking out of my sides, but didn’t stop to stare. Residents of NYC were too busy to be bothered by others not in their way, but more importantly, the city was so packed with a mix of people of all preternatural origin that it was easy for me to feel like I didn’t stick out too much. Cryptids had been out for centuries, but some people were still learning to overcome prejudice. The political parties and movements trying to put us all back into the monster closet hadn’t helped, but we’d always been fighting for our rights and that would never stop.

Thankfully, over the past years, I had carved myself a tiny space in the welcoming city, and now I was more than ready to show it to my best friend.

I smoothed my messy hair with my hand, nearly dropping the sign, then lifted the thing higher as if that would lure Kert out faster.

Well, shit. It worked.

His smile hadn’t changed—lighting up his face when he caught me waving my cardboard sign with his name on it. His horns were different, though—they used to be filed short, but now they curled up and back over his black hair. A snowflake-patterned crop top peeked from under an open thick parka as he waltzed like he’d just stepped off the set of a pop music video. The sliver of abdomen on display showcased his crimson skin and shiny belly button piercing.

“Marin!” Kert shouted, pushing a cart with two huge-ass suitcases on it. Despite his slim frame, he was stronger than he looked, marching on with not a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“You’re finally here!” I dropped the sign and opened my arms and tentacles in welcome. All three of my hearts pounded like crazy.

Kert jumped into my embrace, wrapping his legs around my waist. His natural scent wafted into my nose, and I inhaled the almondy-marzipan smell of his skin. It took me straight back to those late nights we’d huddle together to watch a movie from a laptop in our dorm room.

“ Hallo, stranger.” He kissed me on the cheek and jumped off. When he didn’t use words in his native German, his accent sounded as American as my ear could pick up, considering my own Greek twang.

I unloaded his heavy suitcases off the cart. “You must be tired. We could go to my place and—”

“Oh no, I will not sleep until I see Times Square and have one of those hot dogs you told me about. Can you take me?” Kert rocked on his heels, giving me his dazzling smile, then flicked the hoop ring on his bottom lip with his forked tongue.

Air got stuck in my throat and I forced myself to look away from his lips and into his eyes. The black depths of them lured me in even more than his wicked tongue. Fucking hell. I was supposed to spend this time with my friend so I could tell him I was not as straight as I’d thought when we’d shared a dorm room, then hopefully I’d be able to get over my insane crush on him.

Was I doomed to fail?

“Yup. The A line is that way.” I pointed to the exit behind me with my thumb. “We’ll be in Times Square in under an hour.” I grabbed one suitcase while Kert took the other, and we headed off.

At noon, the subway was deserted compared to rush hours, but I wouldn’t care if it was packed full. My attention was on Kert, whose smile did not leave his face for a single second despite the stale air around us. He unzipped his parka, showing off a sliver of his midriff, but since his gaze was on me, he didn’t see the heads he’d turned with that display.

I cleared my mind of all naughty thoughts. My best friend had traveled over the Atlantic to visit me and see New York. The least I could do was not be creepy the first hour he’d set foot on US soil.

“Did you get some sleep on the plane?” I wrapped my tentacles around my waist to keep myself from reaching out for him.

“A little. But I met this lady with the cutest toddler you’ve ever seen and we played magnetic checkers for half of the flight until he passed out in the seat between me and his mom.” He shook his shoulders as if he was about to break into a dance. “I’m too psyched to be tired. Besides, it’s six in the afternoon back at home, so I’m fine. Oh, and I had five coffees on the plane.”

I chuckled. Damn, how I missed seeing that ball of pure energy packed into a slim body. “If you stay up late enough, it will help you battle jet-lag.”

The subway screeched to a halt, and Kert wobbled my way. I caught him with my tentacles, holding onto the railing and his suitcase with my hands. He leaned into my touch, once again bringing back memories of the five years we spent together in the university dorm. He’d always been so tactile; so touchy-feely.

I sent my right tentacle closer, smelling his skin through my suckers.

“That’s us.” I pulled him to the door, giving myself an excuse to graze his midriff with the tip of my tentacle. “I’ll take your other suitcase too.”

“I’ll carry it. Save your strength for carrying me.” He grinned and climbed the stairs, hauling the huge luggage. I followed suit with the bag full of what had to be rocks.

“Oh, wow.” Kert was looking up at the buildings on Times Square, his long neck exposed to the chill of the early December air. He inhaled deeply and turned my way. “It stinks here.”

I snorted. “Yeah. It’s much worse in the summer. You’ll get used to it.” The stench of Manhattan with its mix of car exhaust, pee, garbage, horse poo, and fuck knew what else was something not many expected from the glorious place we all saw in the movies.

He wrinkled his nose, then perked up and walked through half-an-inch of dirty snow towards a souvenir shop, pulling me by the tentacle.

“I need the I heart NY mug.” His pants were so tight he couldn’t fit his hand in the front pocket, so he pulled his phone out with his slim tail.

The city was packed with people from all walks of life and with different visible features on their bodies, so no one paid attention to my tentacles, nor to Kert’s tail and horns.

“Do you already love it?” I lifted a brow, but he didn’t spare a glance my way—he was far too focused on all the knick knacks. “You’ve been here less than five minutes.”

“Yes, I do. It wouldn’t matter. I still want it.” He took the mug from the display, marched to the till, and touched his phone to the card reader. His bright grin as he thanked the cashier probably made her day as she blushed, handing him the wrapped purchase.

On his way out, he grabbed his suitcase with one hand and my tentacle with the other. “Okay, now I’m ready for that hot-dog I saw on the corner.”

Despite the coldness of his fingers, his touch sent a zing of warmth up through my suckers.

The stand was indeed within view, so we headed that way.

“Hi. Can I have the standard? Everything on it?” Kert asked the mustached seller who gave off a Jersey Devil vibe with his hooves and black wings.

“With onions or sauerkraut?”

“Sauerkraut.” Kert beamed.

“Same for me, please.” Acting quick, I paid for the order.

“Oh, is it okay if I take a pic?” Kert looked at the small cart on wheels as if the two yellow and blue umbrellas were the roof of a castle.

“Sure. First time in New York?” The guy packed the bun with a hot dog, mustard, and the German condiment.

Kert nodded. “First day.”

“First hour.” I nudged my friend and plucked his phone from his hand. “Stand next to the cart.”

Kert struck a pose, pretending he was biting his food in such an adorable way that the seller smiled for the pic as well.

“Gorgeous.” I snapped a few more at different angles, then froze. Kert was staring at me. Shit. I had no chill. “The pics came out great.” I handed him the phone and stuffed my hot dog in my mouth so there’d be no more space for my foot in there. I’d have to remind him to send me the pics as he had deleted his social media lately, blaming it on killing his muse and motivation.

By the time I swallowed the last bite, Kert was eating his third hot dog, with the onions sautéed with tomato paste for a change.

“Ready to go?” I reached out for him, but grabbed the suitcase instead. Being so close to him for five weeks and not confessing to my crush would be a lot harder than I’d expected.

“Yup.” Kert patted his flat stomach and wished the seller a nice day.

We took the L train to my apartment in Bushwick. It was a one bedroom with a living room that housed a couch, TV shelf, and a small table. Throwing parties and inviting people over wasn’t in my busy work schedule, so I hadn’t bothered to decorate and furnish the place properly.

Now, with Kert’s keen gaze taking in the space, I wish I’d made an effort before his visit. I’d been swamped with finishing as many projects as possible so I could take most of December off to spend with him.

“Can I shower right away?” Kert unzipped the suitcase next to the couch and rummaged in it.

“Yeah. I’ll get you some towels.” I narrowed my eyes at him pulling out a massive cosmetics bag. “So that’s why you brought two heavy suitcases? You didn’t have to pack shampoo and stuff.”

Kert patted my cheek with his freezing-cold hand. “If you’re the man I shared a dorm room with for five years, you have a seven-in-one bottle in that bathroom and a toothbrush.”

I crossed my tentacles over my chest and stifled a grin. “Should I be offended by how insanely accurate that is?”

“Nah, I just know you, mein Schatz. ”

“Calling me your darling won’t get you off the hook.”

From the day we met, he’d called me mein Schatz freund , but with time, he’d shortened it from ‘my darling friend’ to just ‘my darling’. At the time, I’d chalked it up to his flamboyant attitude, not thinking twice about how that could imply a romantic relationship. Kert had been the first one to welcome me to the dorm, show me around, and teach me a few basic words in German. He’d been my bestie ever since.

“So, what kind of heavy rocks have you packed?”

“Open this one.” He pointed to the purple suitcase I’d been hauling all this way.

“You sure? Will something jump out at me? I’m forever scarred by that scary-as-fuck clown you put on my desk that time.” I tossed the bag of bricks onto the couch, eyeing it warily.

Kert rolled his eyes. “It was a Halloween edition Jack-In-a-Box. It was worth you being mad at me for the whole two hours just to hear you scream like a banshee.”

“Fuck off.” I pulled on the zipper, flopped the lid open, and stepped aside. After a gander at the contents, I groaned. “You bought my favorite snacks?” I rummaged through packets of Spekulatius, Lindt chocolate, Dominosteine, Werther’s candy, Nimm 2 gummies, and so much more. How did they not stop this luggage to check it at the airport? Shocked, I dug in further. “And a leather-bound edition of Faust ?” I hugged the book to my chest.

“Yup.” Kert skipped around the couch, pinched my cheek and wiggled it.

“The food that you like and other knick knacks you might enjoy. Oh, and these are vacuum-packed dry fruits from my dads. The entire suitcase is for you. I found a few of your favorite novels that were translated to German so you could practice when you’re not talking to me. The crime stories that you’ve always read before sleep. I grabbed some books with the latest exhibits in Europe from the art fair in Berlin a few months ago, and a few local zines.”

“Fuck.” I sagged onto the couch. “Now I feel like an asshole.”

“You stew in your guilt and think about how awesome a friend you got while I go shower.” Grinning, Kert finger-waved at me.

“Thank you,” I yelled after him, and he pumped his fists in the air like Rocky, running in fake slow motion.

I dug out three packs of lebkuchen cookies and set them on the kitchen counter. They had the Christmassy gingerbread vibe, but were soft and dense. Similar to how I was when it came to Kert.

The box of chamomile reminded me of when I was anxious before exams and Kert would brew me tea, then lay next to me on top of my covers until I fell asleep. Other times, I’d give him some of my mountain tea when my parents would send a parcel from Greece. I used to think we’d grown so close because we were stuck in that room together, but with time it became clear that we clicked on many more levels than just roommates. Our passion for art had led to countless late nights attending concerts, reading books, and attending parties. We were inseparable. Except for date nights.

I put the kettle on and threw the chamomile bags in, listening to the water running in the shower. Was his body as smooth and lithe as it had been four years ago? Even though Kert hadn’t dated anyone during our uni days, he’d been openly gay. The people in our dorm were mostly chill, but Kert would go shower either before everyone else or late at night not to make bro-dudes freak out. He’d never had issues undressing when we were alone in our room, and I’d felt comfortable around him as well, even if I’d avoided taking my underwear off. I had reasons.

My entire childhood, I’d been running naked on the beach to avoid ripping clothes when I’d shift to swim in the sea. Now, if it would be appropriate in public, I’d be naked at all times. My thermoregulation would keep me comfortable no matter the weather, but I’d rather not traumatize people and get arrested for a small taste of freedom.

The door to the bathroom opened, and I reacted like a cat at the sound of someone opening a tuna can. The upside of having a tiny apartment was the open-plan way the kitchen blended with the living room. So as I stood behind the small island, I had the view of most of the place except for the bathroom, bedroom, and storage room.

Kert walked out in a cloud of steam, like a sexy creature from hot springs. He was drying his hair with a small towel and held onto the bigger one wrapped around his waist.

His lithe body was as defined as I remembered, the lean muscles of his abs glistening with droplets of water that I wanted to lick off slowly. One by one.

If my awakening had happened more than a month before I had to leave Berlin, maybe I would have told him about the feelings he’d stirred in me back then. But my decision to keep it to myself had been the right one, and it had kept our friendship intact. I was out in my circle of friends in NYC, but hadn’t had the guts to tell Kert. The issue now was that I’d been convinced that I could hide my attraction to him as I’d done for the last four years while keeping in contact with him online.

I was such an idiot.

“One sugar with your chamomile?” I hovered the spoon above his mug.

“Yeah.” He sauntered over to me. “You remembered.”

I made a non-committal snort paired with a shrug and stirred his tea.

“I’ll get these to the living room.” I placed the mugs on the table and sank onto the couch.

Kert grabbed clothes from his suitcase and returned the towels to the bathroom. Now dressed in an oversized t-shirt, he plopped next to me and tossed his bare legs over my lap.

“Feeling at home already, huh?” I flicked his big toe, and he wiggled it.

“Yup. You’re very welcoming.” He took his mug in both hands and sighed. Then he set it back and burrowed himself into the worn couch. “Tell me about what you’re working on now.” He motioned to the easel standing in the corner.

“I’m playing with a mural design. I don’t know if I’ll ever do it on a wall or a big canvas, but I need to pour the ideas onto a smaller piece or my brain will explode.”

He hummed, closing his eyes. “Yeah, I totally get that. What’s this one about?”

I placed my hands on his cold legs and looked at my unfinished painting. “It’s inspired by this city and how I view it from the perspective of a relative outsider. How it makes me feel.” I continued talking until Kert’s breathing grew deep and even.

His signature smirk smoothed out into an angelic expression as he slept. In a strange juxtaposition, it graced the kind of features associated with a devil in many cultures: with his goat-like horns, crimson skin, and a slim long tail.

I relaxed into the couch, Kert’s presence still barely registering with me. With him in my apartment, the place was like our tiny dorm room—we were alone and Kert was stealing my warmth.

My phone pinged, but I ignored it. Another text message arrived, and one more. With a grunt, I fished in my pocket.

DeeDee: You promised you’d come to the opening tomorrow and I’m expecting you.

Fuck. I completely forgot. I’d been so psyched by Kert’s arrival, the gallery’s opening had slipped through the cracks of my mind.

Marin: I can’t. My friend came to visit.

DeeDee: Bring them. I told everyone that the guy who made the gallery look like a useful space instead of a dump was gonna come.

Numerous galleries had been interested in me painting their walls, but had never considered displaying my art. Sure, I had only shown them my landscape pieces, but I doubted that my other stuff would do any better. Parading around in a gallery as the artist who couldn’t make it and ended up painting walls didn’t sound like fun.

Except I wasn’t ashamed of using my skills to turn people’s homes and other spaces into something more beautiful.

Marin: I’ll see what I can do.

I glanced at Kert and smoothed the black hair on his calf. I couldn’t abandon him the day after his arrival. Would he agree to come with me?