the manicure supplies in the other. “First we snack, then we soak. Ready?”
“Absolutely.”
9
Brett
“Where’d you learn all this?” Linden popped a cracker in his mouth with one hand while Brett painted the nails of his other. They’d settled on a midnight blue. Something masculine because Linden didn’t want to take it off right away, but wasn’t brave enough yet for something softer.
“All what?” Brett asked.
“Hair, nails, makeup, clothes.”
Brett shrugged a shoulder. “Trial and many errors, mostly. I went through a lot of phases to find my style. And makeup tutorials online were a blessing. It’s not like my mom was going to show me any of this. Ansel’s mom did, though.” Brett felt a pang of loss, like he always did when he thought about Yvette. “She passed away about three years ago now.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough.”
Brett nodded. The loss had been hard on both him and Ansel, but they’d had each other, and they’d muddled through it all somehow. Anyone else might want to strike out on their own, to have their own space. But Brett loved living with Ansel. The little apartment above the thrift store was home, and Brett couldn’t imagine leaving it.
“What was the worst phase you went through?”
“Punk. Definitely punk. All the leather and the black eyeliner. The terrible hair. God, it was a look.”
Brett loved the sound of Linden’s laughter. “Please tell me you have pictures.”
“Probably somewhere in the archives of one of my inactive social media accounts. If it means that much to you, maybe I’ll find some for next week.”
“I’d like that.”
Brett liked the thought of seeing Linden every week. He’d grown closer to him these past few weeks. Ever since Linden had confided in him about wanting to explore his feminine side. The kinship Brett sensed made his stomach flutter. The things Linden felt, the things he was going through, Brett had experienced them. He’d been through the same anxieties.
Brett had met a few femboys in his life, and despite being attracted to them in an aesthetically pleasing sort of way, there wasn’t chemistry there. Probably because they weren’t interested in him beyond trading makeup tips.
Brett might have been projecting his own desire onto Linden, but sometimes, when their chatter turned into a warm, comfortable silence, Brett could’ve sworn Linden looked at him with heat in his eyes, like he was attracted to him. It was hard for Brett to be certain. He was never terribly good at reading people.
Brett’s cell phone going off shattered the silence. A glimpse at the screen turned his stomach to stone. “It’s my brother.”
“You can get it, if you want.”
Brett shook his head. “I’ll call him back. I’m not in the mood.”
“Do you get along?”
“Yes, and no. We get along fine if we don’t talk much. He tries to be supportive, but he’s stuck in the middle. I try not to fault him for not taking my side, but,” Brett shrugged. “It’s basically a mess and I’m not into dealing with it tonight. What about you? Do you get along with your family?”
“It’s just my dad and me. And yeah, we get along. He took the whole gay son thing in stride. He’s a bit sad that I don’t play college football, but he’ll get over it. I don’t know how to break the whole queer and likes makeup and miniskirts thing to him.” Linden shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.”
“It’s up to you.” Brett said. “Everyone’s journey is different.” Brett couldn’t imagine hiding parts of himself like that, but he knew his path wasn’t one everyone wanted to go down.
“Yeah.” Linden admired his nails. “How long does this stuff take to dry?”
“A few minutes. Did you want your toes done the same color?”
“Why not? I like to match.”
Linden propped his foot on Brett’s lap. He fought the way his face heated and his dick throbbed. Mental images of Linden sliding his toes up Brett’s thigh, caressing his dick under his skirt haunted him. It was everything he wanted and could never have. Linden was coming into himself. He deserved someone better than Brett. Someone who could give him more than fashion advice and makeovers.
Brett set his mind to painting Linden’s freshly pedicured toes. “You know, I have the perfect skirt for these nails. When I’m done, I’ll dress you up.”
“I still can’t believe you’re being so nice to me.”
“I had to learn all this on my own. No reason you should have to. Besides, it’s nice to have someone to connect with. Someone who gets