The Queer Principles of Kit Webb

by Cat Sebastian

Percy watched Kit frown at the door to the coffeehouse. “What’s the matter?” Percy asked. “It’s not locked. I thought Betty would have locked up and gone home, but I guess she waited for me.” Percy wanted to say that of course Betty waited for Kit. Betty and Kit worried about one another to an extent that was frankly comical. They were both notorious criminals and accomplished fighters, and yet they each acted like the other was as helpless as a kitten. Kit opened the door and called out. “Betty!” There wasn’t any answer. Percy saw that the candles and lamps were all extinguished and the fire in the hearth was safely banked. “Maybe she left it open for whoever is staying upstairs this week,” Percy suggested. There always seemed to be somebody occupying the garret, and Percy would have bet his new leather breeches that Kit had never once asked for rent. “No lodgers this week,” Kit said, and Percy could just tell that he was about to get very boring about checking to see whether imaginary housebreakers were hidden in every corner, so instead he took hold of Kit’s coat and pushed him against the wall. “Shut up,” Percy said, and then kissed him before he could argue. Kit Webb kissed in a way that was positively unfair. It was an injustice. It was sweet and tentative and totally at odds with the bad grooming and the criminal past. He kissed Percy as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed, as if he were worried about being woken from a dream. Percy preferred to keep his lovers at a sa...