because flashy wasn’t his thing and never would be, but getting admiring looks and sweet kisses was.
Of all people, his brother came up at one point, and threw an arm around Colin’s shoulders. Colin relaxed into it immediately, not flinching at all.
“Hey, little brother.”
“Hey, asshole.”
“You look good.”
“I know.”
Kevin laughed. “Which is even better.” Then Saline walked by and gave him a smile and he was lost.
Colin shook his head and went to make certain a newly arrived friend of a friend knew where to put their food offering, which cooler had beer, which cooler had the fruity drinks, and which cooler had the meaty fishy drinks (La Coq, of course).
He checked with Lovejoy and Pepper regularly, to ensure they didn’t need anything from the kitchen. He was ready with the big platter when time came to carve the deer. Jerk venison was pronounced delicious by everyone but the vegans. Colin washed each pot luck bowl when it got empty and made sure its owner knew where to collect it later. He opened up dips and bags of chips. He ensured salads had serving tongs and that there were always plates and napkins ready.
Maybe, sometimes, Colin stopped organizing and chatted for a bit with Gladdy. Or laughed hysterically at Trick’s antics. Or let Judd sneak him away and kiss him silly behind the outdoor shower. Maybe he got into an animated argument with Ms Trickle, a kelpie twice his size and fives times meaner, about the relative merits of government assistance to loners. But Colin knew Judd had his back, so he felt fine telling her that her ideas on internet security were antiquated, and frankly, concerning in a woman in charge of a government facility. And maybe he got so impassioned about it that he talked with his hands, white and fluttering about his face, like moths around a flame. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t notice. Or if he did notice, he didn’t care how it looked because later that night he would get to put those hands all over Judd’s body.
And maybe, once or twice, he stopped and thought about the whole situation in amazement.
He, Colin Mangnall, was wearing a floaty green blouse that his boyfriend had given him. He had on peach-flavored lip gloss. So what if his hands were gay as fuck, because he was gay as fuck. Maybe even a tiny bit fabulous. Throngs of people saw him like that and not a one of them minded, or flinched away, or ignored him. It was just endless roasted venison, and La Coq burps (the chicken liver flavor really was delicious), and laughter, and his pack.
His pack, who noticed him.
And he got to look up and catch Judd’s eyes, bright with joy, searching him out in the crowd. Judd, attentive, heart’s focus. Colin thought it was all a little bit wonderful, and he was awed by his own capacity for happiness.
So he let himself dwell – connected and significant and loved.
fin
Want more sweet cinnamon roll characters and fun sexy times? Try The 5th Gender, read on for a sample.
Sample The 5th Gender
A Tinkered Stars Mystery
There is no doubt about it. Humans are weird.
Surely all the other aliens would agree with Tristol on this subject – especially at the pub (which was run by humans) on the space station (also run by humans). But humans could be efficient in their weirdness and often quite fun. And no one argued with the fact that they were awfully prolific in all things, breeding faster than any other space-faring species ever encountered in the charted galaxy. They spread. Like fungus. They also spread their legs. A lot.
They were cute, though. Tristol admitted that. Fertile sexy brown-toned creatures, humans, with those adorable round little ears and petal shaped eyes.
But they were also weird.
Take the whole keeping of pets thing. Who would have dreamed up such an eccentricity? Keep an animal in one’s abode intended for neither work nor food but just companionship? Very weird.
Tristol, however, was a galoi, the notoriously easygoing loga variant, too. Which meant that once he met one of these so-called pets, he was rather taken with the concept. Or at least, this particular sample thereof.
*Cat*neuter*pet* Mister Montiguous was currently under Tristol’s care. And Tristol was utterly enamored of the funny hairy four-footed beastie. To have charge of a cat, particularly this cat, was a truly sacred responsibility.
Mister Montiguous’s humans were away on their second honeymoon. Tris had been chosen to feed the cat, and to pet the