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“I’m good,” said Mini, voice cool in a defensive, ‘don’t touch me’ way that Trinket knew to respect. Zee did not respect it.
“I’m going to do whatever I want,” said Zee freely. “As long as you don’t tell me not to.”
No
“You’re so cute,” said Mini, sitting at the table with his feet up, watching Trinket bustle about the kitchen. “Little domestic slut with your collar on. All you need now is the apron with nothing underneath.”
“Okay. Let’s clean up. Your poor friend is probably hungry.” “‘Poor friend,’” Trinket repeated, muttering darkly to himself. “You’re the one who invited him over,” said Zee, pulling back. A voice shouted from the hall: “I don’t hear any more barking. You two finished?” “I’m kicking him out,” said Trinket.
More than anything, Trinket wanted to say, ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I’m sorry I started all of this, I’m sorry for coming up with this stupid game, I’m sorry for not telling you I was a virgin at the very beginning, I’m sorry for never once in our relationship being honest.’
He coukd have asked
am I in love or colorblind? a stubborn knot of cloud, it seems, is spending all its days with me.
‘Tense’ wasn’t the word for the atmosphere between them. Neither was ‘friendly.’ “So,” said Zee. “Tell me about yourself.” “I’m a tattoo artist,” drawled Mini.
“Can’t have just one bonsai,” he said. “Can’t put all your hopes and dreams in one plant; you’ll kill it with so much attention. Sometimes what a tree really needs for growth is benign neglect. That’s why Trinket would be a mess with one. He’d pour his soul into the thing, it would sense emotional investment, and kaput. Dead tree.”
“Oh, come on,” said Mini, holding the door open and looking back exasperatedly at him. “What, you’re too good for a hole in the wall sex shop?” Zee didn’t even deny his snobbery. “Maybe,” he said.
Zee finally spoke up. “They just give you the key?” Mini glanced back with a fleeting — but smug — grin. “I used to fuck someone who worked here,” he said. “Got the sex shop in the breakup.”
“What? Is that weird?” He sidled up to Zee by the mannequin with a grin. “You’re the one tatting your boyfriend from head to toe. Kinky cigarette burns is where you draw the line?”
“You flirt to evade uncomfortable conversations.” “Jesus,” said Mini. He abandoned his smile and made a face. “Who doesn’t? Can’t you just take flirting as a compliment like everyone else and drop it?” “You said before that I could be straightforward,” Zee pointed out. “Yeah, well, that was when I thought you were stupid,” said Mini.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Zee added. “And I won’t fuck with you.” His tone wasn’t dangerous, but it was honest. It suggested Mini had better watch himself. There was a line.
Mini gazed at Zee for a moment, then grinned. “All right,” he said. “Bestie.” Zee’s expression flickered — half grimace, half smile.
“I liked you better when I thought you were stupid,” said Mini, not so much to Zee as just out loud in his presence. To him,
“I’ve never had a lengthy relationship. I’ve had plenty of fun — fuckbuddies, friends with benefits. I’ve never once thought about marriage. You guys—” He paused, then turned back to Zee and marveled: “I’ve never seen two people so obsessed with each other. You fuck each other up so much, but you’re still hooked together. Still trying like crazy. I don’t know if I’m impressed or if it’s just morbid curiosity, waiting to see if you guys implode or work it out.”
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“These are the things that turn a shrub into a bonsai, and they are also the things that kill it.” His eyes bored into Zee’s. “I’m not a pussy,” he said. “But I’m not an asshole. If you want to make spectacular bonsai, you’re going to kill trees, and I don’t like killing trees. If you want to be in a deep, serious, committed relationship, you’re going to break up with people.” He smiled sardonically. “Trial and error. That’s you guys to a T, right? But that’s how you learn.”
Mini finally shrugged. “That’s it. I’ve never done what you guys are doing. Maybe I can learn something from it. Or maybe find you guys a better fitting pot. Adjust the watering schedule. Some other dumb shit metaphor.”
Zee didn’t say anything for a second, then smiled. His first reaction to anything Mini had been saying. It was amusement. “I feel bad, honestly,” he admitted. “I’ve never had close friends, so I’ve never had anyone puke their feelings all over me. No clue what I should say.” The amusement was at his own ineptitude.
Zee hung the collar back on its rack. “I don’t think better bondage gear is going to fix our relationship,” he said. “You’re probably right,” said Mini.
“You and your surprises,” he said. “It’s a bad habit,” said Zee mildly. “Speaking of surprises,” said Mini, turning back, giving Zee a sidelong look. “You gonna surprise him tonight?” Zee didn’t return the look. He only focused on the road. “If I do,” he said. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“It was a good talk,” said Zee. “He’s an asshole, but he’s insightful.” ...well, that was accurate. But what the hell had Mini said?
“Why are you allowed to cause as much bodily harm as you want, and he's not?” Mini nibbled on his second croissant. “Because,” he said, wiping a crumb off his lips, “I can separate the acts from my emotions.”
“I want you,” said Trinket, intensely. Mini looked at him straight-on, expression... neutral. Eyes very soft. “I’m curious about that,” he said. Trinket paused. “What do you mean?” “What you want, exactly,” said Mini. “What I represent. No, I’m not being dismissive of your feelings, don’t give me that look.”
Zee was unfairly comfortable in handcuffs. He sat on the bed, back to the headboard cushioned with pillows. No shirt, no cares. He shifted occasionally, testing the restriction of the cuffs with what seemed like mild curiosity.
“Let’s see it, then,” said Mini, continuing to blatantly ogle Zee’s cock. When Trinket didn’t immediately jump in, Mini glanced up and observed his overly contemplative face. Mini grinned. “Want some help?” he asked.
“Yeah, he looks less like a white collar fuckwad,” said Mini, scrutinizing the jewelry placement.
Mini grinned. “If you’d come in months ago we could have speedran this whole throuple thing with a lot less drama.” He gave Zee’s thigh a suggestive squeeze.
“Zee,” he began. “Trinket, if you try to tell me sorry one more time, I’m not going to fuck you for a month,” said Zee calmly. “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t, either.” Trinket shut up.
“I hate you both too much to fuck either of you right now. You’ll be lucky if I put out in a week.” “I’ll hold my breath,” said Zee.
And that was why I hated you. For being with him, knowing him, and not valuing him enough to care if you destroyed him.”
Fuck you. If you think I cared any fucking less than you, fuck you. And if you knew the whole time, and you thought he was with someone who wouldn’t take care of him, then fuck you even harder. As if you can even talk.”
Thinking that the right romantic gesture will make him forget all about being scared in bed, wishing someone else had been his first time, desperately fucking a stranger like it’s some kind of rehab from your thoughtless, self-serving, emotionally empty shell of a dick.”
“I get it,” he snapped. “You get it, we all get it. We’re all fucking awful people, right? I’m the cheating slut, Zee is the shitty boyfriend, Mini is the one who took advantage of things being miserable and fucked up, but he didn’t start it. No one started anything. Not on purpose. It just... ended up this way.”
Trinket never knew what in his life was right or wrong. But this, he was absolutely sure of. “Nobody gets to hate anyone anymore,” he said again.
“You don’t have to tell me you would have taken care of him,” said Zee. “Because I see you taking care of him, every day that you’re together and I’m there to watch.”
“You’re sweet,” said Zee. “Even though you act harsh. There’s absolutely no cruelty in you. I know, because everyone I see, every single day I leave the house, has some element of cruelty in their soul. Impatience, hostility towards other people. I know because I have that cruelty, too. There’s none of it in Trinket, and there’s none of it in you.”
“No.” Zee denied him calmly. “I like monologuing, remember?”
Finally Mini broke away from the kiss on his own — not letting go of Zee, but dropping his face, resting his forehead against the top of Zee’s chest and taking deep breaths. “I fucking,” he croaked. “I fucking hate crying.”
Thank you for telling him he’s wanted. Thank you for telling him he deserves happiness. Thank you for telling him that he’s good, that he’s special, that he’s worth loving. I didn’t know how to tell him. I don’t have the words. I never could have found them, but you did. Thank you, and I love you.
The ride back home felt like taking the last Uber home at 4:00 AM after a catastrophic bender. It was barely early afternoon and Trinket was done with the day.
Whenever a question bloomed in his head, he smacked it down with a mental scream of ‘THINGS ARE OKAY RIGHT NOW.’
Zee drove in silence, occasionally casting a glance to check on Trinket next to him, or Mini in the back seat, fuming wordlessly over being openly valued.
All Zee had done was open the door for him, and Mini had lost it, snarling, “If you say or do one more nice thing for me I swear to god I will throw myself out of the moving car.”
Mini watched Trinket sob for a minute, then announced, “If this day involves one more crying fit, I’m breaking up with both of you.”
Zee had complimented him, exposed his emotions, made him cry, and then worst of all... comforted him.
Because fuck him for using Trinket’s favorite tender-degrading language in an attempt to provoke Zee.
“You missed your favorite slut, right?” asked Zee. His voice was worse than gentle... it was full of sympathy. Understanding.
“Fucking slut,” Mini managed to grind out, the words pissed and miserable and devoted, loving, obsessed all at once. He dug his nails into Trinket’s hips. “God, you fucking whore... fucking kiss me while you ride my dick.”
He inched back to look Mini in the face. Mini looked back warily. Like he didn’t trust Trinket not to start sobbing again.
