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317 pages, ebook
First published July 18, 2017
It sparkled on his tongue with tiny bubbles of carbonation. "Really, Max? Fizzy jizz?"
"I see werewolves do have a heightened sense of taste. It's a mage thing."
"The champagne of cocks?"
"See how I spoil you?"
"I like it when you call me Bryan."
"Not Muscles?"
"I like it when you call me that too, Trouble." You can call me anything you like so long as you smile that way.
"What if I call you Habanero?" Max waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Only if I can use Sparkles."
"Ew, no."
"Seltzer?"
"Stop it." Was Max blushing? Super hard to tell.
"Carbonation Man?" Biff pressed his advantage.
Max sputtered coffee. "Here I cum to save the day?"
"Mighty jizz is on it's way?"
"With the power of fizzy dick!"
It was like the werewolf filled all his empty, broken, lonely parts with liquid fire. Scary and exhilarating.
Biff felt odd, floaty but tethered, anchored to Max. A shard of toffee, sharp and sweet, was being melted inside him into hot liquid caramel. The taste and smell of Max.
We, the weird and the sideways folk, have always walked the line of rejection. It’s what makes us visionaries. We who are pushed away, to the edge, can see beyond the borders of reality. We frighten the privileged with our possibilities.
“Do you prefer to be thought of as female or male?”
“It has to be one or the other?”
Biff shrugged.
“The young ones have all sorts of pronouns these days. Nonbinary and flexible. One of those might work.”
Biff narrowed his eyes. “But you seem female. You smell female.”
Mana smiled, a full genuine smile. “Yes. Only with a cock. She is fine.”
“Okay.” If Mana didn’t mind, he’d stick with what his brain and nose told him.
Quiet descended and they puttered about the kitchen together in companionable silence. Mana seemed to be dampening her nature somehow, not so abrasive and commanding. Or perhaps that was coming from him, part of this numbness. Either way, Biff didn’t feel the need to get out of her way, avoid her direct notice. It gave him the ability to pry.
“Would you change, if you could?” Biff asked, curiosity breaking his lethargy.
“There is no answer to that. I self-heal, just like you. So, there is only acceptance and the courage in it. I suppose I should be transgender, under modern parlance. But I like drag queen. It suits me. I like the fabric roughness of drag, and the royalty of queen. It’s a nice change to have the luxury of choosing one’s own semantics, if not one’s own situation.”