Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zoey was new to the social sciences department of the University.

It took Zoey longer than she’d have liked to admit to find her office. The Southern California public university campus was much bigger than the one she’d gone to in Seoul. Why would her office be so far from her lecture hall?

She finally found it: room IX. She took her key out and jiggled the handle, humming to herself. Her hum stopped when she realized her office was occupied by a woman in a turtle neck, blazer, and slacks with a long purple braid.

“Oh! Sorry I must have the wrong—“

“Professor Yoo?”

Zoey froze, halfway out the door.

“Y-yes?”

“You’re in the right place. We share offices here.”

Oh. Zoey should have known—she’d been getting emails about budgetary meetings and saw all the discord in their professor slack channel.

Zoey walked into the office. It was small, felt more like a closet than an office. There were three desks- two occupied and one not. She proceeded to walk to and place her things on the vacant desk.

“Thank you— please call me Zoey,” she said to the woman.

“I’m Rumi, unless we’re around students, then I’m Professor Cho.”

Rumi sat straight, with a big warm smile. Her desk was orderly and efficient: enough space to have her laptop, grade, and talk to students across her desk. Behind her was a bookcase with a very tasteful collection of textbooks and interesting knick-nacks like a blue cat bobblehead, one of those birds that bend and touch water, and a newton’s toy with round brains instead of balls.

“Should I call you something else around students?” Rumi asked.

“Oh, um… Yoo is fine.”

Rumi laughed. “I don’t know how polite it will seem if I called out ‘Hey Yoo’ across the quad. People might think we have beef, and I don’t even know you well enough yet.”

Rumi winked, and Zoey short circuited a little. This woman was funny. A little odd, but funny.

A click of the clock on the wall signaled it was the top of the hour.

“Oh,” Rumi said. “It’s officially my hours now. Feel free to unpack, let me know if we disturb you.”

‘We’? Zoey thought. But then she saw Rumi get up, pull down on her blazer, and go to the door to open it. The minute she did, ten freshmen students piled in.

Zoey got the impression that Rumi was one of those beloved Gen Ed professors that taught those big lecture halls full of undeclared students.

“Wait— tell us again that story about the library?”

Professor Cho chuckled. “Before I learned to manage my assignments I ended up pulling two all nighters in a row and then passing out literally in a bookshelf. Little did I know they’d closed the library for an interactive improv final. I woke up and people were very confused when I said a lot of ‘No but’ instead of ‘yes and’” Professor Cho gave a cheeky smile. “Only final I ever failed!”

The group of students erupted in laughter, as if they hadn’t heard the story before.

The hour went on like that- Rumi clarifying the text, or telling impersonal life stories, or giving the freshman advice on how to get through their next four years. Zoey unpacked her bag and loosely paid attention to Professor Cho whilst also reviewing her schedule and taking a better look at the room.

The desk opposite Professor Cho’s couldn’t be more opposite. It was full to the brim everywhere except for one corner.   It was almost impressive the way that so many books and papers and files were balanced on top of the surface of the desk. The bookshelf behind it was similar— instead of text books, there were journals of all colors and kinds and of different widths crammed into every space of the shelf, sometimes vertically and sometimes horizontally. The state of the area left Zoey brimming with curiosity.

The hour finished as loudly as it began, students all shouting thank yous and promising to come to the next office hours. The minute the last student was out the door a woman barged in, headed straight for Rumi’s desk.

“Fucking finally, it smells like BO and bad decisions in here. Hi—“

“—Professor Hong, we have our new office mate here. Meet Professor Yoo.”

The woman halted her motion at Rumi’s desk and turned to face Zoey.

This woman was tall, lithe, and angular with thigh-length pink hair. She wore navy pleated shorts and an ivory sleeveless blouse. She was accessorized by an assortment of geometric jewelry— gold studs and triangles and hexagonal hoops in six piercings in her ears, a horseshoe shaped necklace around her neck, and many interesting gold rings on her fingers. The look was finished with a spotless suede Chelsea boot. This person didn’t look like a professor, she looked like a model.

The woman continued to face Zoey but walked across the room until she was sitting on the free corner of the cluttered desk.

“Don’t call me that,” the woman said.

“Don’t call you—?”

“Professor Hong. It’s Mira. Or Mir. Or even Mimi,” she says with a wink at Rumi who looked… annoyed? Agitated? “If you absolutely have to you can call me Hong.”

“And in front of your students?”

Mira sent out a short incredulous laugh. “I gotta stop letting Rumi get to people before me.”

Mira hadn’t answered the question, but Zoey didn’t push. The woman was intimidating to say the least. Confusing to say the most. The desk Mira was leaning on was nothing short of a mess, and this woman was anything but. Her makeup was immaculate and her outfit pristine. Her long body was muscular and unlike Rumi’s very straight posture, hers was relaxed.

Then the door opened, and a ragged looking graduate student entered. They looked like they’d gotten no sleep in maybe four years.

“Mir, take a look— I got invited to guest speak at the gender expansion seminar in Florida,” the student said, voice urgent with something that sounded like excitement and panic.

“Florida? Is that a joke?” Mira laughed, opening a book from her desk and not acknowledging the student farther.

“Mir. I’ll be on a panel with Susan Strong representing student voices,” the student said, same tone as before.

“Aw, tell Susie I said hi,” Mira said, pretending to read.

“Hong.”

Mira finally looked up, her direct eye contact catching Zoey’s breath in her throat.

“Who do you think recommended you, Bobby?” Mira said, finally cracking a smile. 

Bobby’s face exploded in a relieved smile.

“You absolute mother fucker.”

Rumi softly clicked her tongue in something like disbelief at Mira’s student calling her that. Zoey’s mouth was ajar.

Then to really drive the point home Mira hugged Bobby, and stuck her tongue out at Rumi. Rumi rolled her eyes and pretended she was busy with work on her computer.

“We have to make intro statements for the brochure,” Bobby said. “What should mine say?”

“Hmmmmm… thank you Mira Hong for cracking my egg.”

Bobby groaned. “Mir, c’mon, this is a big deal.”

Mira cut the jokes for a second.

“Bobby. You’ve got this. You don’t need me for any of this. But I will buy you a beer at Lucky’s tonight.” Mira’s eyes flashed to Rumi with her last remark, smiling at Rumi obviously trying not to react. 

Then Mira continued. “Seriously though Lion Man. You’re my favorite trans student and you’ve got this. Just don’t tell my other…” Mira pretended to count her fingers. “Don’t tell any of my other students since they’re all trans.”

“Except Beth,” Bobby said.

Mira gasped. “You’re right, fellow cis ally erasure. But she’s my favorite cis student.”

“It’s tragic you’re cis,” Bobby says, now fully teasing Mira back.

“It really is,” Mira sighed dramatically.

Bobby laughed at that. Zoey realized that in a matter of mere minutes Mira had gotten a student to go from 90% panic to full of self confidence all while teasing them, ignoring them, calling them a nick name, hugging them, and offering to buy them a beer. Zoey could feel the heat coming off of Rumi as she continued to pretend to work.

Bobby confirmed their plans at Lucky’s and then left. There was still 45 minutes of the hour left.

Rumi looked to Mira. “What?” Mira asked, innocently before walking behind her desk, pulling out her laptop and setting it up on the bookshelf behind her so it was a sort of standing desk.

“What courses are you teaching this semester, Zoey?” Rumi asked, obviously trying to dissolve the tension in the room.

“Oh, uh— I teach 206 Theories of Aging and 304 Cognitive Functioning of Older Adults for the Gerontology program.”

Mira snorted. “That’s ironic.”

Zoey looked over to the tall woman, who hadn’t looked up from the screen.

Rumi blanched. “Don’t listen to her. She loves to think she’s edgy when she’s really just being an ass.”

Mira gasped. “Do your freshmen know you curse?”

Rumi narrowed her eyes but otherwise ignored her office mate.

“I teach the intros— intro to psych, intro to sociology, intro to anthropology.”

“Wow all three? What did you get your degree in?”

“I—“

“Don’t be impressed by her workaholicism. She got 3 PhDs at the same time which is something no one should ever do,” Mira said, now looking directly at Zoey. “It sets a bad precedent for her students.”

Rumi stood. “Bad precedent for my students? You’re the one buying them beers—“

There was a knock at the door. Mira looked back to her screen and Rumi sat down and looked to Zoey. Zoey sat confused for a minute until she realized the time. Her hour had begun.

“C-come in!”

In walked a large muscular student Zoey didn’t recognize.

“I’m Abby.” The student said, plopping down in the chair on the other side of Zoey’s desk. “They told me I’d get a better grade if I came to office hours.”

Zoey caught Rumi and Mira knowingly smile.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I think they’re referring to the statistic that students who come to office hours often do better on tests.”

“Okay, great. So I’ll get a good grade on the next test.”

Zoey exhaled. “Abby, right?” Abby nodded. “Do you feel like you can confidently summarize what we’ve been learning in class?”

Abby shook his head.

“Why not, Abby?”

“I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember why you can’t summarize the material or you have trouble with memory which is making it difficult to summarize the class teachings?”

Zoey noticed Rumi’s one raised eyebrow.

Abby seemed a little lost.

“I can’t remember things for you,” Zoey said. “But I will say I used to have trouble with memory because… well, I did. And now I turn important things into a rap.”

Abby laughed. “A rap?”

“Yeah like…”

As Zoey provides her example of how she passed her final exam of undergrad and Zoey watches Rumi’s other eyebrow meet the height of her first one.

Abby looks entertained at the least.

“Okay, your options: one, take better notes. Two, go get evaluated and set up with tools to help you. Three, drop my class while you can.”

Mira’s smirk can be seen from her profile.

Abby nodded then got up to leave. He turned back for a split second and leaned towards Zoey. “Those rhymes were fire. Do you want to get a beer at Lucky’s later?”

Zoey smiled up at this muscular, handsome idiot and said, “No thanks, I only date people that do their homework.”

Zoey watched Abby leave, and then turned back to watch Rumi and Mira share a look.

“What?”

“You handled that leech well.” Mira offered.

“Uh… thanks? A—“

“Mira means a difficult student. Someone who wastes time at office hours.”

“Oh, thanks I guess.”

They all held eye contact for a moment too long.

“Mira what do you teach?”

Rumi was the one that spoke.

“Mira runs the Gender and Sexuality studies PHD program. The top program in the country based on student count and graduation rate.”

Zoey was confused. These two seemed like they hated each other or are rivals or nemeses or something. Why was Rumi complimenting Mira’s program?

Mira let out a long low groan.

“I don’t care about that shit!” Mira said, in an exasperated tone.

Zoey saw why Rumi said it now. Mira turned to Zoey.

“I help brilliant kids come more into their own and push the ticket on how the world sees and feels and thinks about queer people,” Mira said softly, but with pride.

“I know,” Zoey said in response, taking Mira and Rumi off guard a little bit. “Your program meant a lot to me, even when watching it from afar. You do cool work.”

Zoey watched them both chew on the vague way Zoey just came out to them. They definitely still had curious looks, but they held back.

“So wait— then why did you ask if you already knew?” Mira asked.

“I was trying to be polite,” Zoey added.

Rumi laughed in Mira’s direction, earning her another severe look from Mira.

“Oh Zoey I like you, I’m glad you’re with us.”

“Thank… you?”

Mira looked Zoey up and down.

“First year at a university?”

Zoey sighed in disappointment. That obvious, huh? Zoey nodded.

“Well I’m sorry you’ve been saddled with us. We don’t usually give the best first impressions.”

Once again Zoey was shocked that Mira was using the word ‘we’ in reference to both of them. Maybe Mira was making fun of Rumi? But no, Rumi was smiling softly and nodding.

“I’ve been teaching here five years and Mira seven,” Rumi said. “Seeing as we will be together all year, don’t hesitate if you need something.”

“Oh,” Was Zoey going to be on her toes around these two hot brilliant women all year? “Thank you.”

The time hit seven and Mira packed up, then gave Zoey a look until Zoey packed up too. Rumi stayed at her computer, focused on something.

“Come on Cho, we’ve got to go.” Mira said. “Finish your brilliance later. I have to lock up.”

Rumi looked distressed. “If you’d just give me a key to the office—“ 

“Not a chance. Next thing I know you’ll be sleeping here if you sleep at all.” Mira added, swinging her keys around her fingers for emphasis. “Plus we gotta walk Zoey out.”

Zoey’s temperature went up a little at that, and she didn’t know if it was out of a surprise for the attention or anger that she was being belittled in this way. She knew her way home.

However the words seemed to work on Rumi, who sighed and closed her laptop.

“I have a key, I could make a copy—“ Zoey offered to Rumi. Rumi shook her head slightly and looked to Mira.

“I know you don’t know her and you’re trying to be polite. Literally if you give her a key I’ll make sure every queer kid on campus hates you.” Mira said. “You didn’t see her when she first started here, and didn’t have to deal with her giant mental health breakdown.”

Zoey’s stomach sank. Being hated by queer kids was worse than Mira threatening violence. The queer friendliness of this campus is why Zoey decided to teach here. Zoey turned to say something in redaction to Rumi, but saw she didn’t need to because Rumi was nodding solemnly like she knew she wasn’t allowed to accept a key.

“Okay, fair. Just don’t make queer kids hate me. My bisexual heart would break.”

Mira nodded at the confirmation she was searching for.

“I’m a dyke. Oh, and if you hear people talking about Professor or Doctor Dyke then check the tone before calling a student out,” Mira says, her chest puffing out a little.

Rumi sighed. “She loves the title. Only time she lets a student call her Professor or Doctor,” Rumi deadpanned. “It’s especially funny when students get in deep water and need her help and they call her Doctor Dyke to be polite. ”

Mira laughed, in a rare moment of agreement with Rumi. “It is hilarious, I hate being called via my PHD honorific. But with ‘dyke’? That’s just comedy.”

Zoey was so… confused? Processing? Who were these two and why did they share an office? Zoey could feel the stress of just being around them in her shoulders.

Finally they all were packed and standing, shuffling out the door.

“What parking lot did you park in?” Rumi asked Zoey.

“Oh, 15B. I know where it is though, so I’ll just say goodnight,” Zoey said, fishing her keys out of her bag.

The silence sat too long before she looked up.

“We’re walking you.” Mira said, voice serious.

Zoey frowned. “No, really—“

Rumi nodded, “We’re walking you. It’s not about thinking you’ll get lost or anything, I promise.”

That wasn’t really a lot to go off of in order to believe her. But the two were not going to let her walk alone, Zoey could tell.

They walked in near silence. For a prolonged time.

“Any plans this weekend?” Zoey asked. Anything to get her out of this awkward hell.

“Rumi’s not going to do any work,” Mira said, her voice failing to be as jovial as she probably wanted.

“And Mira’s going to do what she always does and read all weekend,” Rumi said. “And I’m the workaholic.”

Mira shot a glance at her. “Give me something better to do then.”

Rumi’s mouth shut, then she turned to Zoey. “What about you? Plans with friends or a partner?”

Zoey laughed quietly. “Just moved here so no friends and no partner. I might explore the city a bit. Any suggestions?”

Zoey didn’t see Rumi and Mira share looks.

Mira sighed. “Lucky’s is only the bar where students go. The closer to campus the more students, so go to the Wicked Wolf on the far side of town.”

Rumi nodded. “Excellent cocktails, including NA ones. Mira’s met some partners there.”

Zoey laughed. “I’m surprised you still go back then.”

Mira finally smiled. “Hey I pride myself on being part of the ‘my exes become my friends’ cliche.”

Zoey laughed in response, and Mira’s smile got a little wider.

“I like the aquarium. It’s huge and impressive. Before I lived here my aunt would bring me as a kid,” Rumi said.

“Do… adults go to aquariums?” Zoey asked, trying to soften her words to not offend.

It was Mira who spoke. “Yeah absolutely, it’s Rumi’s favorite place to take dates. I’m a little surprised she told you the secret. It’s one of her favorite moves.”

The confusion just kept building, despite how much fun Zoey was now having in this conversation. I guess if you’re forced to be in quarters with people so opposite to you and you have to work on the same extended faculty you sort of can’t avoid learning things about one another.

Zoey was relieved to see her car. She felt exhausted from the social tennis match that was Rumi and Mira.

“It’s cute,” Mira said earnestly at Zoey’s electric blue Honda Fit.

“It was very nice meeting you today Zoey,” Rumi said. “I hope we haven’t scared you away.”

Zoey laughed a bit too loud. “Definitely a memorable first day!”

Mira smiled at that, and Rumi and Mira both stayed to wave Zoey off before turning to leave for their cars. Obviously there must be a closer parking lot. Zoey was going to study the maps this weekend and find it.

Chapter Text

The first couple weeks of the semester went smoother than Zoey expected. Rumi and Mira’s bickering never ceased, but Zoey started to get used to it and actually looked forward to it. They were entertaining. 

Their students were entertaining. Zoey’s favorite part of her day became watching the transition of Rumi’s hour into Mira’s. Rumi’s horde of freshmen would pass two or three of Mira’s graduate students. Zoey loved watching the student’s faces.

“Gosh it’s so fun to watch their thoughts dance across their faces. I'm sure some of them have never seen a trans person before," Zoey said one afternoon. Mira's students had only popped by to invite Mira to one of their art shows. Zoey had a feeling Mira never missed anything her students invited her to. "The looks of curiosity and recognition and attraction and jealousy and admiration and…"

"I know, sometimes I can hear the moment their lives change forever," Rumi laughed, not looking up from her laptop.

Mira didn’t say anything, but gave a soft look to Zoey in agreed appreciation.

“And then sometimes you see a couple that just…” Zoey pondered how to put it.

“Those students fail my classes,” said Rumi definitively.

Zoey was surprised. Rumi was not the type of person to fail a student based on their beliefs, so Zoey had to try to figure out what she meant. Rumi didn’t clarify. Mira didn’t look at either of them, but Zoey could see her smiling in a way that Zoey couldn’t place.

It was two days later that the incident happened.

Mira’s hour ended with a student actually still talking to her for once. Bobby and Mira were in a fascinating conversation about gender theory that was so intellectual that Zoey couldn’t make more than three of their sentences make sense to her brain. 

What Zoey did understand was that Mira was allowing Bobby to stand on even ground with her. Bobby was going to be a professor after graduation. Was eventually going to be a peer to Mira— maybe not at the same school but definitely in the field. Mira was no longer teaching Bobby, Mira was collaborating with them. It was beautiful to see.

Zoey had kept her feelings about the attractiveness of her office mates well wrapped up. After the first moments in the office she didn’t allow herself to really take in their glossy outfits or perfect hair or any of their mannerisms that would have made Zoey’s skin itch. But seeing Mira like this— formerly cold, curt, teasing-as-a-teaching-device Mira? All of that reality came to the surface and then some. Mira wasn’t just hot. She was beautiful. The way she looked at Bobby— softly, impressed, proud, and loyal— made Zoey’s stomach churn.

Zoey didn’t want the hour to end. She could have watched them talk like that forever. But her dazed loving look in Mira’s direction was interrupted by a student standing between her eyes and Mira.

Oh, the leech.

“Hey teach,” Abby said. Zoey could feel Rumi’s nose crinkle at the disrespect. “You look good today.”

Mira and Bobby wrapped up in order to give Zoey the room. Abby watched Bobby leave, and the door click behind them.

“What’s up with the t*****?”

Zoey was thankful Bobby was well out of earshot when Abby said it. Zoey saw the flash of pink spin towards him but stop when Zoey held up her hand. This was her student. She was going to handle it.

“That’s Mira’s student and one of the most innovative new minds in the world of gender and sexuality studies,” Zoey said. “And the word you just used is not only inappropriate but a slur. I’m going to assume you know what a slur is.”

Abby sat up a little straighter in response to the low and serious voice Zoey was using. He did know.

“I just don’t get why anyone would do… that.”

Zoey had to try excruciatingly hard to ignore the heat radiating from Mira’s body across the room. She did know that both Rumi and Mira had stopped and were looking at her.

“You lift, right Abby?” Zoey asked.

Abby stretched his body up and smiled a little bit, letting his abs show beneath the bottom of his shirt. Zoey looked on purpose, which made Abby smile. Zoey could feel Rumi’s face pinch.

“Why do you lift?”

“Because the ladies love it,” he said, a new tone of voice on as if he were putting a move on Zoey.

Zoey leaned back, establishing more dominance.

“So if there weren’t ladies you wouldn’t lift?”

Abby blinked. Obviously he couldn’t fathom a life without ladies, but he took Zoey’s bait anyways.

“No, I still would.”

“Why? Because you love the endorphins? Because you need to lift heavy things in your future career as a gerontologist?”

“N-no… I”

“Why then, Abby?” Zoey was picking up steam. She leaned in and whispered, face now in Abby’s personal space. “Why look the way you do?”

“B-because I’m a man!”

Zoey smirked. Hook and line.

“Okay so you like lifting because looking the way you do makes you feel more like a man, right?”

Abby was still, like he was trying to figure out the trap. Then he nodded.

“I get it. Doing these,” Zoey, unsmiling, brandished her long nails with the designs on them. “Makes me feel good about my gender too.”

Abby made a small face at the word ‘gender’.

“That student, Liam,” Zoey said, careful to not give their actual name in case Zoey’s plan failed. “Has a broader understanding of gender than you do. Instead of big muscles equals man, Liam has picked and chosen the things that make them feel good, just like your muscles make you feel good.”

“But unlike you,” Zoey was cooking now, words moving nearly as fast as they’d been with her rapping demonstration weeks before. “Liam’s expression isn’t defined by their desire for sex as mandated by society.”

Zoey had to be careful not to use words that were too big.

“If society— ladies— decided tomorrow that muscles were ugly, would you still have them?”

Abby was frozen. He looked like Zoey had slapped him. He was having an existential crisis. Zoey wasn’t letting him off the hook.

“I’m going to guess, and I could be wrong, that Abby isn’t the name you were given when you were born?”

The tiniest nod.

“But you’d rather be called Abby than your birth name?”

Another nod, bigger. Abby’s eyes wide.

“Sounds to me like you aren’t so different than the student you just called a slur. Except,” Zoey said, a mean glint in her eye. “That student didn’t call you any awful thing, and they’re getting their PhD.”

Zoey let it all sink in. She half expected him to leave, or to crack a wise ass comment.

“I see. Okay,” Abby said, quietly but definitively. “I’m— I won’t use that word again.”

Zoey smiled, allowing the reality of the situation to set in. She still avoided her office mates eyes. She had a feeling Mira would have done a better job wording things and Rumi would have been more convincing, but Zoey was trying to allow herself the small victory.

“I need help with this reading, I don’t understand why…”

For the rest of the hour Zoey earnestly helped Abby, and Abby earnestly learned. 

“Thank you, Professor.” Then he left.

Zoey let all the air out of her lungs when the door latched. Then she inhaled for strength and looked up.

Rumi looked Zoey up and down. Looked at Zoey like she was new, not the girl they’d been getting to know these last couple weeks. Like Zoey looked… impressive.

Finally Zoey looked to Mira. Mira’s face was red. She was standing up by the corner of her desk, no longer leaning like she usually did.

Mira moved fast for the door, then stopped to the side of Zoey’s desk. Mira didn’t look at Zoey, but Mira did reach over and squeeze Zoey’s hand for a few seconds. Then she left, letting the door bang on her way out.

Zoey looked to Rumi.

“You did good,” Rumi said. “She’s just not used to having people stand up for her students. It’s usually only her. And me, when I can, but most of my freshmen are too new and scared to say anything like that.”

Rumi gave Zoey a soft smile.

“You overwhelmed her, and she doesn’t do feelings well,” Rumi looked like she was going to say more but stopped. “She’ll be back. And you just gave me more time to finish grading.”

Rumi was right. Mira did return, and packed her bag and snapped her fingers at Rumi to stop working. Zoey was already packed.

“Mira, I— He was my student, I wanted to handle it,” Zoey said, as if Mira was mad at her. “You probably could have—“

Mira stopped her movement and looked at Zoey in the eyes for the first time in an hour. Then Mira stepped closer to her so she was looking down into Zoey’s eyes.

“What you did,” Mira started, voice a growl. “Was professionally impressive. It was personally impactful to Abby. And it was very hot to me. I could fucking kiss you for what you did. And no, I couldn’t have done it better.”

Zoey would have thought Mira was hitting on her if the interaction wasn’t so intimidating. It seemed more like Mira wanted to drive her point home in a way that couldn’t be misinterpreted.

Then Mira turned to Rumi and asked if she was ready to go, to which Rumi sing-songed a yes as if Mira threatening to kiss a colleague was just another item on Mira’s rap sheet of professionally inappropriate behaviors and she was used to it.

Zoey followed them out.

Chapter Text

The next weeks changed for Zoey. She was finally getting the hang of her lessons and more students were popping by office hours. Abby came every day now, but was no longer a leech. He came right at the beginning of office hours and even said a “hello” to Rumi, Mira, and —if they were there— Bobby. Then he proceeded to become Zoey’s highest scoring student.

The biggest change was in how Mira treated Zoey. Mira started bringing her things in the same way she brought Rumi things. Coffee, and snacks. She would hold doors open for Zoey and guide her by a hand on her lower back away from obstacles when they were walking to their cars and Zoey was on a quick-talking roll about some topic. Everything was so subtle, like Mira had been doing it the whole time they’d known each other. But she hadn’t, and she was now.

Then there was the invitation.

“Hey,” Mira said. “We’re going to the Wicked Wolf tonight, want to come? It’s board game night and Rumi’s a sucker for them.”

Rumi mocked offense. “Why would anyone like to play a game that stimulates the mind and where you can conquer people with your strategic prowess?”

Mira rolled her eyes.

“C’mon, I need a drink and I hate nerd shit but I can’t let Rumi go alone. I did once and it wasn’t pretty. She came back with like 8 people’s numbers she didn’t want just because she can’t say no. Fucking pushover.” Mira laughed, making Rumi glare. “Before midterms hit us next week. Come with us.”

Zoey was pretty sure she’d jump off a cliff if Mira wanted her to, despite how much Zoey pushed that thought down.

“I love board games. Sounds fun.”

Rumi’s face lit up. “Really? What’s your favorite?”

“The Game of Life,” Zoey said.

Rumi’s face darkened. Then, in a last ditch effort she asked, “What version?”

Zoey considered for a moment. “I don’t know, whatever version was in my mom’s cabinet growing up?”

Mira laughed. A big, boisterous laugh.

“Oh, you got her so excited,” Mira cooed. “It’s okay babe, you’ll turn her into a monster like you yet.”

Rumi’s eyes flashed angry and then appreciative at Mira.

Wow, Zoey thought. The way Mira teased was artful. Calling Rumi babe was a new one.

For all the conversations they’d had in the free time between students, relationship status never came up. Zoey had her theories though, given what she knew about the both of them. Zoey imagined Rumi had a boyfriend, someone as charismatic as her. It was serious, headed towards marriage, but they both were too focused on their careers. 

For Mira she imagined that Mira had a different person in her bed every night. Every time Zoey imagined it (which was more often than she felt comfortable with) Zoey imagined the people in Mira’s bed changing in size and shape and gender and expression. And in all situations, the sex was amazing.

Mira calling Rumi babe was downright evil, because it made Zoey imagine the two of them in bed, having agitated, frustrated, hot as fuck sex.

Zoey shook it from her mind during the walk to their cars.

The bar was big and dark, with a slight 20s/speakeasy theme. Rumi dashed upstairs immediately, and Zoey stayed back with Mira.

“Hey Eb,” Mira said to the bartender. “The usual, plus whatever Zoey wants.”

Zoey looked to protest but Mira’s look shot her down.

“Something with Mezcal please,” Zoey said, catching Mira’s smirk. Zoey agreed to the bartender’s suggestion and then took their drinks to a seat in the main room.

“Will you take Rumi’s drink to her? I’m nerded out tonight.”

“Oh, sure. Are you… going to play games?” Zoey asked.

Mira looked to her, no sign of any of her personas. No Dr. Dyke, no doting Professor, no teasing. “No, I really just want to read and sip my drink. But you should go play, I think it’d make Rumi’s night.”

Zoey smiled, nodded, and headed upstairs.

Rumi was at a table in the back, surrounded by three players and an open seat to her right. When Rumi saw her, Rumi waved her over to the seat Rumi had reserved for her.

“We’re playing Heat, a racing simulator game. In this game the goal is to…”

Zoey was impressed by the way Rumi was able to succinctly summarize all aspects of the game. She only opened the instruction booklet once to answer an overly specific question from one of their fellow players.

Zoey had never been to a board game group before, but had been into Pokemon tournaments when she was younger. She always hated how surrounded by boys she’d been in those spaces, and eventually that feeling is what made her leave the game. Looking around, Zoey realized it could have been a very similar situation here— majority cis men, playing board games. Zoey was shocked it wasn’t. The group was pretty diverse. Sure there were still cis-men, but there were cis-women and trans folks of all genders and expressions here too, and of course there was always the reality that some of the people Zoey thought were cis were actually trans people that passed for cis. Zoey didn’t feel under-represented as a femme here either, and realized that was in part thanks to Rumi.

Rumi must have been an organizer of the event. Rumi welcomed everyone that entered the room. She asked about items in people’s personal lives that she must have heard about before: how’s your cat, did you get your car window fixed. 

She even dished smack talk back at the grumblier cis-men of the group, to their surprise. Zoey wasn’t surprised based on how she saw Rumi interact with Mira every day, but Zoey had to remember the way Rumi presented herself and how she was perceived. Rumi was still dressed in the turtle neck pant suit outfit, professional and feminine. Her movements shuffling cards and dealing out tokens and trinkets was graceful. Of course the men were surprised when she called them on their bullshit and competitively teased them right back.

This game was no Game of Life. It was complicated. The board was large, and everyone had a little colored race car. They had to manage speed and stress and decision making to get themselves around turns and to the finish line.

Zoey’d played a lot of games with her many cousins growing up. Without siblings of her own and being the youngest cousin, she often got picked on and almost never won games. That’s why she liked the Game of Life so much— there was enough luck involved that she could almost accidentally win against her cousins that were five to ten years older than her.

Even though she was an adult now and as old if not older than some of the people at the table, Zoey felt the prickle of inadequacy on the back of her neck. She wanted to win. Or at least, she didn’t want to look stupid and have people laugh like her cousins always did.

Come to find out, she didn’t have to worry about that at all. Before making a move, Rumi would narrate considerations to make so Zoey understood what her choices were. If Rumi missed something, another player at the table would speak up. They didn’t only do this for Zoey either. They did it for each other. 

There was some sort of gamer’s honor code where a win wasn’t a win if you won because your opponents weren’t well enough informed. In this arena everyone was equally armed. The winner would be the most skilled when the playing field was even.

Zoey got second on her first play through of Heat. When the game ended, Zoey wanted to play again and wanted to make some different choices.

Rumi laughed. “I always say you have to play every game twice,” she said, a proud glow coming from her. “The first time is to learn and the second time is to dominate.”

They played Heat two more times. The second game Zoey did worse than the first, and the third game she won.

“Did you let me win just so I’d come back and play more games with you?” Zoey asked Rumi as they walked downstairs.

Rumi gasped and faked clutching pearls that Rumi wasn’t wearing. “Me? Let you win? Never!”

Then her voice normalized. “Seriously, never. Letting someone believe they won when they didn’t is like… breaking board game consent. If you’re going to play you’re going to win or lose and it’s going to be your fault either way.” Rumi said, “Unless you play with Paul. Paul loves to make someone lose in games where one player can fuck another player over. I don’t play with Paul.”

Zoey laughed, then realized that was the first time she’d heard Rumi curse before other than calling Mira an ass. This Rumi was fun, and relaxed, and in her element. She was still in the spotlight of attention but not expected to be a leader amongst followers but a leader amongst peers.

When they got downstairs Mira wasn’t in her seat. Zoey hadn’t considered Mira would leave, and realized now that she could have. It was late now, nearly midnight. Mira probably called it a night.

But Rumi was looking at the bar, where Mira sat, body turned so she could listen to whatever the person next to her was saying. Mira’s elbow was on the bar and her face was in her hand. And she looked— god, Zoey wished Mira looked at her like that. Mira was rapt on every one of this person’s words. Zoey couldn’t see this person, but could see that the person was turned so Mira’s foot sat on their barstool’s lower footrest and her knee was floating between the person’s legs. They weren’t touching at all, but it was intimate.

It took Zoey a minute to remember to breathe. Mira caught the wave of Rumi and the minute she and Zoey were in Mira’s view Mira’s face lit up. Zoey watched Mira excuse herself from the conversation at the bar and walk over without a moment's hesitation.

“How were the games?” Mira asked.

“Zoey’s a little speed demon,” Rumi said. “Gave me a run for my money.”

“Oh, did you play Heat? Fun.” Mira said. Maybe she did like games after all, Zoey thought.

Rumi turned to Zoey and hugged her. Rumi had never touched Zoey before, and Rumi’s hug was surprisingly good. It was warm, and Rumi’s body squeezed Zoey’s without any apprehension. Rumi broke the hug and held Zoey’s shoulders. 

“Thank you for coming to play. I hope you had fun. You’re welcome back anytime, and you don’t have to always play games, you can be like Mira who plays every once in a while.”

Zoey smiled back at Rumi, her hands still on Rumi’s side from the hug.

“This was really fun, and I’m not just saying that because I won,” Zoey said with a wink. 

Mira laughed. “Wait, you beat Rumi?! I knew there was a reason I liked you.” 

Rumi gave Mira a quick scowl before turning back to Zoey. “You can beat me anytime,” she said, and winked back.

Mira laughed harder as Zoey short-circuited. Rumi purposefully flirting with her to get back at Zoey for beating her was not on the night’s bingo sheet.

Chapter Text

Everything was great until the Dean’s board meeting.

The Dean was hot, in the ways that both Rumi and Mira were— she was impressive, Professor hot. Charismatic like Rumi, holding court amongst the social sciences professors. Intimidating like Mira, shutting down extraneous conversation and any bickering about defining terms in an endlessly evolving field of study.

When the meeting began, no one spoke except for her. She hit item after item on the agenda and then opened for questions after each one. Sometimes there was a question, but most of the time no one dared to speak.

Zoey searched the room for Rumi and Mira, which didn’t prove too difficult given their hair colors. Rumi was sitting up front, as close to the Dean as she could get in the lecture hall. Mira was sitting as far away as possible, the only one standing in the back corner. Zoey wished she were sitting between them, her friends, instead of these random sociology and anthropology teachers that looked bored out of their minds. Neither Rumi or Mira looked bored. They looked involved.

“For the final item,” the Dean said. “Budget usage for this year. I understand that we have two proposals for excess budget usage— one from Doctor Cho and one from Doctor Hong.”

Mira stood straighter, taking her shoulder off the wall for the first time all meeting.

“I have reviewed both proposals and they are compelling. I will be assigning a liaison to do an assessment of the impact of both and then will make my decision.”

That sounded completely reasonable to Zoey. It didn’t sound reasonable to Mira obviously, because she spoke up.

“Ce— Dean Kim,” Mira began. “How will this liaison measure impact? What will the metric be for determining which the department will choose?”

Mira’s voice was firm yet professional. More professional than she’d ever heard Mira speak. She could tell that Mira didn’t want to give the Dean this respect, but knew not to bite the hand that feeds.

Rumi was looking at Mira with some sort of glare that Zoey couldn’t place. Anger? Annoyance?

“An acceptable question, Doctor Hong,” the Dean said, stifling a sigh. Mira obviously had a reputation for speaking up, as whispers fell throughout the lecture hall. “Of course we look at the financial impact of any decision on the sustainability of the university. We are a business and that business is educating students, so whatever allows us to continue doing that for as long as possible should win— excuse me, receive the bid.”

Mira nodded slowly, though her face gave away her displeasure at the answer.

Chapter Text

The next office hours were tense. It was midterms, so they were busy every hour with students, even allowing students from one hour to bleed over with students from the next. Mira and Bobby worked in the corner the whole time, whispering about something or another while Rumi and Zoey were busy going through study guides with their undergrads.

It was 7:30 before Mira and Zoey said goodbye to their last students of the night, Bobby and Abby. Abby’d spent his whole hour helping others with their study guides when Zoey’s hands were full. The whole office had decided to like Abby now, to Zoey’s delight.

They sat in silence for another fifteen minutes.

“Okay, we have to talk about this,” Zoey said, finally. “You two have competing proposals to the Dean?”

Mira and Rumi shared a glance. The tension in the room increased.

“Our department handles the most undeclared undergraduates. A lot of them declare for our department after taking an intro class,” Rumi says.

“You can take credit, you’re practically fake bragging right now,” whispered Mira.

Rumi ignored her. “We need more admissions counselors. If we did, we could get students declared earlier and more student money would go to our department.”

“Student money?!” Mira said. “At least pretend that your proposal is for the good of the students, fuck!”

Mira picked up a book and turned towards the wall like she was going to throw it.

Zoey nodded at Rumi.

“Should I even ask you what your proposal is, given how worked up you are?” Zoey asked.

Mira tightened her whole body, and Zoey did in preparation. Then Mira sighed, put the book down, and slowly turned to Zoey.

“My program is a draw for the whole school. I have the highest graduation rate in the country. It would be higher, but the number one reason my students drop is because of an ‘emergent lack of resources’.” Mira’s voice wavered a little bit in the end. Zoey looked for any sign that Mira was going to cry, but didn’t find any. “If we had an emergency fund, or emergency housing, or a food bank, clothes budget, anything for these kids…”

Some of Mira’s students were as old as Zoey was. Hell, some were older since the school prided itself on non-traditional students (students that started or returned to school years after high school). But with the way Mira talked about her students Mira could have a student aged 60 and still call them her kid.

“But my program’s small. And it’s queer, and Celine—“

“Stop,” Rumi warned.

Mira let out an aggravated groan towards the ground.

“I’m sick of having to convince this school that they should care! That they should take a bit of their 32 BILLION DOLLAR BUDGET and keep a couple kids in school during one of the most traumatic moments of their lives. Getting kicked out of your family ruins a part of you. Grieving someone still alive—“

Mira’s voice did crack now. Rumi stood up and walked over, not touching Mira but just… there.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mira said, before walking out the door.

Zoey looked to Rumi, who looked perplexed.

“She needs a break from the attention for a minute. She’ll finish her thoughts soon,” Rumi says, purposefully not answering any of the questions Zoey had. Zoey and Rumi packed up and followed, a couple steps behind.

When they left they didn’t have to go far to find Mira. Mira was standing up against the wall right outside the office.

“Mir, you—“ Rumi started.

Mira shh’ed her. They all froze and looked where Mira was looking.

Abby was talking to Bobby. Mira’s chest was heaving, like the anger from before was rising to the level of her eyeballs. It was lucky that Zoey and Rumi caught her while she was still frozen, still watching them.

Zoey didn’t think before she grabbed Mira’s hand. She didn’t pull or squeeze, just held. It was Mira that squeezed back.

Rumi, Zoey, and Mira watched Abby and Bobby talking. Abby was considerably taller than Bobby, the kind of bigger that made Zoey’s spine tingle in fear. How had they let Bobby walk by themself for so long? Zoey felt Mira’s hand shake. She must have been thinking the same thing.

Abby put one huge hand on Bobby’s shoulder. Mira crumpled to the floor and Rumi sped off in the students’ direction, still out of sight. Zoey didn’t know what to do.

Then they all froze.

Abby bent down and kissed Bobby.

It was small, and quick. But Bobby giggled in response and then took Abby’s hand, interlocking their fingers. Then they walked away, too much in their own world to notice what had transpired with their professors.

Mira hadn’t seen. She was still crying in a ball on the ground. Rumi rushed back and grabbed Mira’s face. Zoey sat behind her and squeezed Mira with all of her strength because that’s what Zoey liked when she had a panic attack.

“Mir, Mir, they’re okay. Bobby’s fine. Bobby’s actually more than fine, they kissed. Did you hear me? Muscle-y idiot Abby kissed beautiful brilliant tiny Bobby.”

Zoey let Rumi’s comment about Abby being an idiot go. She’d bring it up later when Mira was okay.

“It didn’t happen to him. What happened to you didn’t happen to him.”

Zoey looked to Rumi, but Rumi showed no signs that Zoey even existed right now. Her whole focus was on the person she was fighting with to get the dean’s money.

Mira’s breathing became more even after a long time of Rumi offering affirmations and reassurances. Rumi was so soft this way, looking at Mira with concern and care. Something horrible had happened to Mira, Zoey knew now. That’s why Mira never let her walk alone. Despite Mira being tall, she was still lithe and a femme woman. And her students were the highest demographic to experience violence on campus, and that metric was only based on what was reported. Suddenly Zoey knew Mira a lot better.

A couple minutes later they were all sitting on the cement outside their office in a circle. Mira looked tired, but more okay than she’d been all day.

Mira pulled out her phone, sent a text. Only when she got a text back did she let herself fully release the rest of the tension in her shoulders.

“Bobby says they got home safe.”

Zoey wondered how Rumi would normally feel about a student having Mira’s personal cell phone number. But then again, for things like this it made sense that Rumi wouldn’t care at all. Rumi would probably encourage it, if it helped keep students safe.

Mira looked at Zoey.

“I was attacked during my first year. Beat to shit, robbed. They cracked a couple of my ribs, tore an earring, stole my laptop.” Mira turned so Zoey could see the line in the cartilage of her left ear. “They didn’t… well you know. I got lucky in that sense.”

She said all of these things matter-of-fact. A thing of the past.

“Three of my students—“

Mira cried. For the first time in front of Zoey, Mira cried. Not at her frustration at the dean, not at her anger at Rumi, not at her fear of Bobby being hurt. She cried at the reality of whatever had already happened to three of her students in the seven years of teaching. All under her watch.

“They’re okay now,” Rumi said, grabbing Mira’s hand. “They’re living great lives. We even went to one of their baby’s first birthdays last month. Wasn’t that baby cute, Mir?”

“Yeeeaaaahhh,” Mira said, smiling pathetically through a broken sob. How was it that Zoey found this woman so breath-taking whilst she ugly cried and smiled at the mere thought of a baby?

Mira wiped her eyes and the rest of her face.

“I’m working on letting go of my sense of responsibility with my therapist. But just now if I’m honest,” Mira said, daring to look directly at Zoey. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to look at you if Abby had done anything to Bobby.”

Zoey nodded. She wouldn’t have been able to look at Mira either. And that would have broken her heart.

Zoey and Rumi stood and pulled Mira to her feet.

“Let’s all go home. We can talk more another time,” said Rumi.

Zoey nodded.

“So tell me more about this kiss. I want to know every detail.”

Zoey smiled as she sped through every single thing she could remember as they all walked towards the parking lot.

Chapter Text

The Dean’s office was minimalist and stark, without an iota of warmth in the entire room.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Zoey said.

“You will be our liaison for the budget decision,” the Dean continued. “Your undergraduate degree is in accounting so I know you understand budgeting decisions, and you know both parties and their students.”

“Dean Kim, I appreciate the opportunity but I feel like it would be a conflict of interest to be the deciding factor between my peers,” Zoey said. “Plus it could make our office a hostile work environment.”

“If that happens let me know and I will get you a new office. Besides,” Dean Kim continued. “As Professor Cho’s aunt I am far more of a conflict of interest.”

Zoey’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped before she realized her error in etiquette.

Dean Kim caught her expression. “They didn’t tell you? I am surprised. I figured that would be brought up often in the office,” she said.

Did the dean look… disappointed?

“You don’t share any students with them and your classes aren’t at the time of their classes. You’re the obvious choice.” She continued. “Your task is to analyze their theories about the usage of the budget and to provide me your thoughts on how I should proceed.”

Zoey looked at the Dean and saw no way of getting out of this situation.

Chapter Text

Zoey paced back and forth in the office. She was almost never there before Rumi. 

Rumi and Mira entered a moment later, laughing at something. Zoey was glad they were in good spirits for this.

Rumi and Mira got to their desks, looking at Zoey’s full-bodied anxiety.

“What’s up, Zo?” Mira asked.

“Are we friends?” Zoey asked. 

Mira looked to Rumi and back in a bit of shock. “I’d hope so. Are we friends?” She asked to Zoey.

“Would you two consider each other friends?” Zoey continued, ignoring Mira’s questions.

Rumi looked to Mira this time.

“We’re… sometimes friends, yes. Sometimes colleagues. Sometimes—“ Rumi started.

“I want to know if we’ll still be friends after what I tell you,” Zoey said. “No matter what. I don’t have… people. Here. You two were it. Are it.”

Rumi and Mira looked at each other and then walked forward, taking Zoey’s hands in theirs.

“We will. We think we know what you’re going to say,” Mira said.

“The Dean assigned me to be the liaison for the budget.”

Both of Zoey’s hands were dropped. Rumi looked to Mira, hand over her mouth.

In a surging yell Mira pushed all of her books off the desk and onto the floor.

“That BITCH,” Mira said.

“Mir,” Rumi said, hands up now.

“She did this on purpose, Ru. You know she did.”

“I’ll talk to her— I’ll—“

“No!” Zoey shouted, breaking the spell. “She told me not to tell you. I chose to anyway.”

Mira and Rumi looked to Zoey.

“Why?” Rumi asked, with a look of wonder.

“I… didn’t want to keep anything from you. Either of you. Both of you.”

Mira heard Zoey’s words. It felt like an eternity, but eventually she slowly smiled. Then she went over and started picking up her desk, book by book.

Rumi sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was your aunt?” Zoey asked.

“She wouldn’t have wanted us to. Not many of the faculty know. Mira wanted me to tell you,” Rumi said. “Now I see I should have.”

Mira’s books were back on her desk, this time in neater piles than the physics-defying mess it was earlier.

“You mean a lot to us, Zo,” Mira said. “So do our jobs. So do our families. Well, Rumi’s at least. All those things can coexist.”

 Zoey exhaled.

“Okay, so what do we do?” Asked Zoey. “How do we keep this from coming between us?”

Mira looked to Rumi for this one.

“Mira and I will promise not to do anything against the rules we set.” Rumi said, and Mira nods in agreement. “It’s like board game rules honor code. I say you visit one of my classes and one of Mira’s. You can ask us questions during office hours. When do you need to turn the recommendation in by?”

Zoey nodded, as if to say she’d processed the plan. “Finals.”

“Okay,” Mira said. “I think we also need to spend more time together, the three of us. Keep having fun that isn’t about work. Keep our connection strong.”

Zoey smiled at the suggestion.

Chapter Text

The next time they went to the Wicked Wolf, Zoey decided to stay down with Mira. Rumi was going to play a six hour conquest game called Scythe and the more Rumi talked about it the more Zoey realized she wasn’t ready for that yet. So instead she sat at the bar while Mira pulled out a book.

Zoey always imagined that the books Mira was reading were some overly intellectual tome that would take Zoey multiple minutes per sentence to decipher. No, it was a book called My Best Friend’s Honeymoon by Meryl Wilsner.

“Bold choice,” Zoey said, sipping on her Cadillac margarita. “Smut in public.”

Mira lifted an eyebrow in delighted surprise. Then she leaned over to Zoey until she was whispering in her ear. Zoey wondered if Mira could hear her racing pulse from there.

“This, my dear, is a furry bar,” Mira said. “It’s hardly public.”

Zoey blanched at that, then blushed. The anthropomorphic wolf portrait above the bar was indeed wearing a maid’s outfit.

“Have you read it?” Mira asked, playing off her amusement at Zoey’s realization.

“I did. I’ve read all of Meryl Wilsner’s stuff,” Zoey said. “How’re you liking this one?”

“Oh I think this is my third read-through,” Mira said, with pretend nonchalance.

“I like that she finally gave us a non-binary lead. And a they/she at that,” Zoey said. “I also was surprised when—“

“The ass eating started?” Mira asked, watching Zoey’s face when she said it. Zoey held her ground, to Mira’s surprise.

“I was going to say when they decided to adopt the dog, but yes I enjoyed the ass eating surprise too,” Zoey said.

“Zoey likes ass eating, noted,” Mira said, turning back to her book. 

“Hey I’m not the one who’s read the book three times,” Zoey said with a laugh.

Mira laughed too, in agreement. Then she took a dollar bill out of her wallet and slipped it into the book as a book mark and put her book away.

They talked about everything. 

Mira shared about her estrangement to her family. How they looked down at her queerness and her career and so she left them.

Zoey shared about her reason for leaving Seoul. Her fiancé started transitioning and found out he wasn’t interested in women anymore. They were still good friends but she needed space to grow somewhere new.

Mira talked about her favorite people she’d met at the bar. People she’d taken home or got to know or learned restaurant recommendations from.

Zoey shared that she would have been interested in taking someone home, since it’s been a while since that happened.

Mira got quiet.

“Did I lose you?” Zoey asked.

“Never,” Mira said, snapping her head back to look at Zoey.

It was only then that she noticed how Mira was sitting. Facing her, foot on Zoey’s footrest, knee between Zoey’s legs. All of Mira’s attention on her.

Or it was. Now it was scanning the bar.

“Do you trust me?” Mira asked.

“Yes,” Zoey said. She meant it. The things she felt for this woman. Had felt for this woman for months.

Mira made eye contact with someone just over Zoey’s right shoulder and gave a quick flick of her head up. Then Mira got up off of her seat and leaned back into Zoey’s ear.

“Have fun,” Mira said, and then kissed Zoey’s cheek.

Zoey’s heart melted and froze as she watched Mira walk towards the stairs and then out of sight.

“Hi,” Someone said, appearing in front of Zoey. “I’m Zane. Can I buy you a drink?”

Chapter Text

Sex with Zane was great. Zoey didn’t know why she was surprised. Mira had recommended him, after all. He was able to show a clean STI test directly from his MyChart app. He was highly skilled with his fingers, mouth, and the strap. He was clean and tasted good.

And Zoey didn’t feel a single feeling.

Getting fucked was helpful though, she felt a little more settled in her body, like she was farther from jumping Mira’s bones in the office.

Still, after so much Mira direct attention she decided to take the day to check out Rumi’s classes.

Since Zoey hadn’t gone to the school for undergrad and had gone to a tiny private school, she was shocked to find out just how big the biggest lecture hall was. The room was probably half a football field wide, and when she walked in Rumi seemed pretty small on stage comparatively. 

Her first observation was that most of the freshmen were sitting up front and center to the classroom. Most of Zoey’s students sat in the fringes of her classrooms, so seeing so many students so close to the leader of the material was fascinating. She even wondered if the couple people on the far outside of the class were auditing the class like she was or had to leave early and didn’t want to be disruptive.

“Where can Miles find the answer he’s looking for, class?”

“ON THE SYLLABUS,” the class chanted in sing-song.

“That’s right,” Rumi said, passing a sneaky wink to Zoey when Rumi noticed her.

“Okay, let’s talk about Freud. What do we know about Freud?” Rumi said, before calling on people in rapid succession.

“Oedipus complex!”

“A cigar is just a cigar!”

“His work was largely defunct!”

“Well done, all good things to know,” Rumi said, clicking the clicker in her hand so the slide now showed a picture of Magritte’s panting with the pipe on it.

Rumi’s class was fun. She had the class laughing, thinking, and talking. Rumi had them do partner sharing and mini quizzes with clickers. After class she had a good fourth of the class lingering hoping to absorb some of her attention.

Zoey knew professors like this. She’d had one. The whole reason she became a gerontologist was because of an intro class she took when she was undecided. The teacher was kind, smart, and encouraging. Just like Rumi.

He wasn’t as beautiful as Rumi though. Rumi lit up in front of her students like they were power cells to her generator. Zoey could watch her smile and hold her students’ gaze and laugh that bright laugh all day. And today she got to.

Zoey pretended to write notes, which was silly. Zoey knew Rumi and Mira so well. This class was exactly as Zoey would have imagined it.

When her last class was over, Rumi came over and sat beside Zoey with an exhausted huff. She laid her head against Zoey’s shoulder.

“So, what did you think?” Rumi said.

“Your students love you,” Zoey said.

“They do now,” Rumi said with a laugh. “Just wait until finals.”

“Some kids in here are so in love with you that you could fail them and they’d still love you,” Zoey said.

“Yeah, I know,” Rumi said with a sigh. “It used to be a curse, being everyone’s type. I’m glad I can use it for good.”

Rumi said it like she was joking but Zoey could tell she meant it too. She represented the department very well.

“It must be tough,” Zoey said. “Having her as an aunt.”

“It is,” Rumi hummed. “It’s complicated because a lot of the things I’ve achieved I’ve achieved because I was pushed by her. So I’m thankful on one hand…”

“Resentful on the other?” Zoey asked.

Rumi nodded. “When I met Mira I fully believed that without Celine I wouldn’t have ever amounted to anything. Mira showed me how wrong that was.”

Zoey nodded and leaned her head on Rumi’s. 

“Do you want to go out? I’m thinking bowling at Parking Lanes,” Rumi said.

“Bowling?” Zoey asked. 

“A wise person told me it’s good to have things we like that we aren’t good at.” Rumi mused.

“Let me guess… Mira?” Zoey asked.

“No, but close,” Rumi laughed. “My therapist.”

Zoey smiled. “Sure, but I want to change. Meet there at… 8?”

Rumi smiled back. “Sounds good.”

————-

Zoey was wearing jeans and a three wolf t-shirt, something appropriately silly for a bowling alley. Her dad was a big bowler so Zoey had fished out her ball and shoes.

Mira arrived first, sauntering up in sage green chinos and a crisp white v-neck tee. She pulled Zoey in for a quick hug.

“I heard Zane enjoyed himself,” Mira said devilishly.

“Oh jeez, how much detail—“

“None! None. Just that you were beautiful and kind, both of which were things I already knew.”

The way Mira looked at Zoey made her breath catch.

“Mir, we should—“

“There she is!” Mira said over Zoey’s shoulder.

Zoey turned and her mouth dropped.

It was Rumi. At least Zoey thought it was. She was in black combat boots, boot cut jeans, and a black cropped tank. She was holding a thick leather jacket and motorcycle helmet in one hand. None of those things were why Zoey couldn’t believe her eyes.

It was the tattoos. All across every inch of exposed skin were gorgeous rainbow watercolor tattoos in ornate decorations. Some were flowers, some were traditional Korean designs, some were patterns. From her collarbone to where her crop top was showing more skin to *beyond*. Wow, how far did they go?

Mira was laughing at Zoey.

“I love getting to watch people find out.”

Only then did Zoey realize her mouth was fully open.

Was Rumi actually walking in slow motion? Because she still hadn’t reached Mira and Zoey.

“They’re hot right?” Mira asked, putting her chin on Zoey’s shoulder.

“Yeah wow,” Zoey said, allowing her to continue ogling until Rumi arrived.

“Hey guys,” Rumi said, as if it were any other Tuesday.

“Rumi,” Zoey could only muster a whisper. “What the fuck dude.”

“I figured I’d let you really get to know me,” Rumi laughed.

“I want to get to know you *more*” Zoey said, not worrying about openly flirting with her friend.

“How? Why? When?” Zoey asked. Then, “Celine?”

Mira and Rumi both laughed, and lead Zoey’s in-shock body to the counter so they could get shoes.

Rumi smiled big and proud like a kid with their artwork on the fridge.

“‘How’ is many hours and lots of dollars. Most of it’s all done by this same artist I love. She did my dad’s too.” Zoey’s ears perked up at the mention of Rumi’s father. She’d never talked about her parents before. 

“My dad was in prison my whole life and I never met him but I had his pictures and thought his tattoos were the best,” Rumi continued. “I would call them his patterns.”

Mira asked the clerk for shoes in Rumi’s and Mira’s sizes and then turned to Zoey. “I have my own,” she said, still tracing Rumi’s patterns with her eyes.

“‘Why’ is for my dad, to honor him after he died and also because I think they’re neat,” Rumi smiled down at her skin.

“Beautiful,” Zoey whispered.

“‘When’ was the year I finished grad school.  I didn’t have any money at the time but my expenses were covered by Celine so I worked as a tech at a recording studio for a while to pay for each piece as it was being done.”

Then Rumi sighed. “Celine wasn’t happy to say the least. She pulled financial support from me for a while so I had to take a break from getting more until I was set up at the school,” Rumi said, wincing at the pain of the past. “Celine hired me under the condition that I never showed my tattoos to students.”

“That’s why there’s that rule in the code of conduct. There wasn’t before Rumi started.” Mira added, venom in her voice.

“But my tattoos were finished and I loved my students and always wanted to teach where I got my undergrad and graduate degrees.” They were at the lane now, and Zoey put on her shoes and got out her ball. She completely ignored the looks from Mira.

“I’d grown up at the school since Celine took care of me after my parents died,” Rumi said. “We’re aren’t even actually related, she was my mom’s best friend. They were colleagues, like we are.”

Zoey was finally starting to get her faculties back. Then she had a thought that would let her lose them again. She stood.

“Can I touch them?” Zoey asked.

Rumi’s smile got bigger. Was she worried Zoey would reject her when Zoey saw them earlier?

“Yeah, sure,” Rumi said, her eyes flicking to Mira.

Zoey got closer to Rumi and traced her fingertips down Rumi’s bare arm, from her shoulder all the way to her wrist. Zoey was in a trance until she felt Rumi shiver.

“Oh, sorry did I—“

“No, no it feels good. Just gave me the shivers for a second.”

Zoey stepped back, and Rumi looked a little… sad about it?

Zoey blushed and turned to hide her face by suddenly being really interested in the bowling balls.

“Oooookay, well, how do y’all usually do this?”

“Uh, we usually get the gutter bumpers,” Mira admits. “But I was initially too intimidated by your own personal ball and shoes and got embarrassed to ask.”

Zoey laughed. “What? No, we should definitely get them put in. I haven’t bowled in like a century.”

Zoey watched Mira look to Rumi with skepticism.

Bowling with Mira and Rumi was fun. It was light hearted. Mira was an awful bowler, just uncoordinated and hilarious. Rumi, despite telling Zoey this was the activity she loved but was bad at, never hit the bumpers once. Zoey laughed to herself because of course Rumi’s definition of being ‘bad’ at something was just not being professional level. She had three doctorates.

“How did you meet?” Zoey asked, when Mira came back from another three-pin-down run.

“Us?” Rumi said, laughing. They looked at each other like they were deciding something.

“Okay we usually don’t tell the real story,” Mira started.

“Yeah, we usually say that we met working here together,” Rumi said. “Not the bowling alley, I mean the school.”

“But actually I met Rumi in the library during one of my finals,” Mira smiled at the thought.

“At your final— the improv final?” Zoey asked, piecing the story together.

Rumi laughed loud, grabbing her sides.

“I usually leave that part out! I forgot you knew the library story!” Mira said, in horror.

“My professor thought that an undergraduate improv class would help me be more flexible in my teaching,” Mira added as context. “I fucking hated that class but they were right.”

“Oh god, and Mira was so annoying,” Rumi added. She had stopped laughing in order to feel her frustration from those many years ago. “I kept trying to tell the professor that there was a mistake and Mira kept ‘yes and’ing me so I sounded like it was all a bit.”

Mira was laughing now, “Yeah that was hilarious. It was the first time I saw her get so cute and steamed.” Mira sighed. “And it was the only way I somehow got an A on that final.”

It was Zoey’s turn to laugh. They were both so ridiculous.

And she loved them.

Zoey bowled a strike after that thought, then two more.

She was glad to see them both impressed.

When their hour was up, Rumi was pretending to be fine with her score. And Mira was verbalizing how impressive Zoey was as a bowler.

“My dad and I didn’t really know what to do together,” she said. “He wasn’t a very involved dad before the divorce, and now he had me alone for whole summers,” Zoey explained. “We ended up just working on his Korean and bowling.”

“So you became a really good bowler,” Mira said. “And your dad…?”

“His Korean got better,” Zoey said in Korean.

They laughed.

Chapter Text

Mira’s classes weren’t what Zoey expected.

Zoey had seen her with her students in office hours, relaxed and joking, intimately knowing each of them in a way that was more like an aunt or an older sibling than a professor sometimes.

Her class was not that. 

Unlike Rumi’s lecture hall, the class was small. All of the desks had been moved against the wall except the seven in the circle around the front desk. Zoey came in just before class started, and Mira winked at her as an acknowledgment, just as Rumi did, but didn’t engage with her more. Instead, she looked at the clock and tracked the time in which every student walked in the door. Zoey noticed everyone was in seats with at least five minutes to spare, and everyone was silently reviewing material.

“So,” Mira said from her perch on the corner of the front desk. “Who didn’t do the reading?”

The tension in the classroom could be split with a knife. Everyone looked around at each other. Finally a student raised their hand.

“Tabitha. Why?”

“I needed my back blown out, so I got my back blown out. Accidentally fell asleep.”

Students laughed, but only a little. Mira smirked.

“Good reason, glad you’re safe. Here’s the book.”

Zoey had a feeling that Mira probably thought any reason to skip the reading was a good reason, considering how strongly she felt about grad school being rigorous and also her students getting to be humans and not perfect. It’s one thing she’s constantly bringing up with Rumi, as if to remind Rumi that she, too, was allowed to just exist.

Tabitha got up from the circle and took the book, before moving to one of the desks in the back. Zoey understood the set up: miss the reading, make up the reading in class, hear the discussion, but don’t waste time being a part of the discussion. The discussion had to be earned. Opportunities to be brilliant were earned.

Her students were brilliant. They were considerate, and intelligent, and pensive. Once again Zoey didn’t really understand most of the terms they used, but she could still follow the vibes of the conversation.

“I have an unrelated question,” a student asked. Zoey didn’t recognize this student, unlike others. “Who is our guest?”

Zoey froze. They were talking about her.

Mira smiled. “You’d know if you were able to come to office hours,” Mira said. “Tell your boss I’m mad they schedule you during that time.”

The class laughed at the idea of this student’s boss caring.

“That’s Professor of Gerontology Zoey Yoo,” Mira said, making soft eye contact with Zoey. “She’s observing for a budgetary interest in regard to the Dean. Any questions for Zoey?”

The class turned, and Mira pointed her hand towards the empty seat in the circle, which Zoey joined.

“Do you prefer we address you as Zoey or Professor Yoo?”

“Zoey’s fine. I think some of you are my age.”

The class chuckled at that. Zoey felt appreciative of their attention.

“Do you handle topics of queerness in your subject?”

Zoey made sure to chew each of the questions well before answering. These students were whip smart, and even though they were respecting her as an honored guest, she didn’t want to walk herself into a stupid answer.

“I do. We talk about Erik Erikson’s theories of aging and I often bring up how they’re not hard and fast rules. That leads to discussion about how time and milestones work differently based on aspects like class, race, sexuality, and gender.” Zoey said, trying to address every person in the group. “Then we talk about ‘gay people can’t drive’ memes and why queer people might be starting to drive later than straight cis people for example. Then we talk about queer adults and older adults and how their needs may differ.”

“What expertise allows you to talk about the experiences of trans folk?” One student asked. This student was particularly intense, and Zoey knew they were known for calling people out around campus. Mira called this student ‘an asshole for justice,’ in a way that Mira said was similar to herself in school.

Mira spoke up. “Nolan—“

Zoey put a hand up. “It’s okay. I can’t speak to trans experiences, I’m not trans,” said Zoey. “But I am queer. Straight passing, sure. Working in an environment with rules about conduct and dress, sure.”

Nolan was pondering her answer so far.

“I talk about my own experiences with my students. And when I’ve reached the limits of my knowledge, I bring in people I know to speak to theirs.”

Mira smirked, face looking down.

Nolan nodded. Zoey won.

Mira looked up after a long enough silence.

“Give Zoey the courtesy you’ve shown me,” Mira said. “I know you forget I’m cis sometimes but cis allies do exist.”

The class made noises of disbelief. After that, Zoey stayed in the circle for the rest of the discussion. Students would even ask her questions from time to time, and Zoey got brave enough to ask a question that allowed another student to break down the concept into small enough pieces for Zoey to understand.

“Are you single?” Another student, Cameron asked Zoey.

The rest of the students made noises of disapproval, one student even throwing a wadded up piece of paper at them.

“What? I can’t be the only one who wants to ask. She’s our age, hot, and smart. Mira and Dr. Cho are off limits so might as well.”

Mira cleared her throat.

“Zoey’s off limits as well,” she said. 

The reaction by the class was not what Zoey had expected. It sounded more like… surprise? Like they were somehow glad Zoey was off limits?

The class discussion continued. Zoey was impressed by how little Mira talked the whole session. She had her students trained to go over every topic of the reading on their own, and to continue talking through them without Mira’s intervention. They would call in people taking up too little space and call out people taking up too much. Mira would step in only if people were interpreting a topic wrong or to add something no one was considering or to ask a question to test their knowledge. It was once again the complete opposite of Rumi’s lectures where she spoke the entire time.

The class discussion ended 30 minutes before the actual class time ended, and as class packed up the person in the chair closest to the corner of the desk Mira was sitting on got to talk to Mira first, and then the student next to them, and then the student beyond, and so forth until everyone got time to talk with Mira. These conversations weren’t about class materials though, they were about her student’s lives.

The first student was Nolan. The rest of the students talked with each other, but Zoey listened in.

“Where are you staying?” Mira asked. Her face showed no sign of warmth or compassion or pity, just total acceptance of whatever her student was going to say.

“My car. I park over by the gym and shower there.”

“That’s dangerous. Not only from people but from cops. Do you want me to ask if anyone here has a place you can crash?”

“No, I don’t.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“I don’t feel like I have options. My job is barely covering tuition as it is. I don’t think I can work more and still study the way I need to.”

Mira considered. Then she wrote an address on a post-it note.

“Okay. Here’s where you’ll be staying. Go around the side. Key’s under the tiger figurine in the planter. Instructions are inside.”

“Mira—“

“Say another word and I’ll fail you.”

Nolan allowed a soft smile.

Second student:

“How’s the kid?”

“Teething. Bite marks on everything.”

“How much sleep are you getting?”

“Like three hours. But we’re really focused on sleep training.”

“When did you and the wife last get out?”

“Gosh, it’s been like… seven months?”

“Can you get a babysitter and go out for a couple hours this week?”

“We’d love to but money’s been too tight.”

“That’s not a good enough reason. You need to stay connected to your partner and get some sleep.”

Mira raised her head from the conversation. “Who here can do their reading from Banner’s place this week? You have to be responsible for a sleeping baby.”

The girl that hadn’t done the reading this week raised her hand.

“Tabitha will actually do her reading and you and Gina can get out for a couple hours to connect.”

Then the next student:

“How’s dating going?”

“It sucks, dude.”

“Yeah, it can. Are you putting yourself out there?”

“I don’t know if I want to. Being—“

“Who here’s trans and in a relationship?”

Four of the seven students raised their hands.

“See, it’s possible. Beth didn’t raise her hand since she’s cis but she’s married too.”

As the line went on, the subjects of stress got less and less intense. Zoey gathered that was probably the design: come into class and sit where you think you are based on the level of personal life support you need.

If Mira could help, she would.

~~~~~

Finally all of the students left, leaving just Mira and Zoey in the empty classroom.

“You’re not the cool, teasing, joking Dr. Dyke I was expecting,” Zoey said.

“They get that from me, just not in lecture. In lecture we work.”

“I can see that,” Zoey said. “Your students are all very impressive.”

“They’re just a bunch of kids. Brilliant. But kids.” Mira tried to act like she didn’t care, like her students were somehow annoying freshmen. Mira couldn’t hide how much every student meant to her, even the ones that weren’t her favorites.

“You’re soft, aren’t you.” Zoey said.

Mira’s eyes got big. “How dare you say that to me. I’m a bitch! I’m the strictest grader on campus. Freshmen tremble—“

“Yeah but you’re still soft.” Zoey said, with a knowing tease. “It’s okay, it’s cute.”

Mira wrinkled her nose at the word ‘cute’. “Ew, gross. I’m not cute.” Mira stood, and so did Zoey. Zoey collected her things from the ground beside her desk. When she turned back, Mira was in her space, looking down at her.

“I’m sexy, or demure, or elegant. I’m brilliant.” Mira leaned closer to Zoey’s face. “Not cute.”

Zoey’s heart skipped a beat.

“From up close,” Zoey said, “You’re even cuter than I imagined.”

Mira curled a hand against Zoey’s face, her long hands reaching back into the hair on the back of Zoey’s neck.

“Oh yeah?” Mira said, looking for cute in Zoey’s face too. “Guess you’d know, you’re an expert.”

“I am,” Zoey said, leaning in and closing her eyes.

“Fuck,” Mira said, pushing herself away from Zoey. “Zoey, I'm sorry.”

“What, no, it’s okay—“

“We’re colleagues. And office mates. And Rumi—“

“Mira, will you just hold on. It seems like we both wanted—“

“We can’t. I promised Rumi—“

“You promised Rumi what, that you wouldn’t kiss me? What is that about?” Zoey was getting mad now. What had they been saying about her? Was Rumi trying to keep Mira and Zoey from being together because it was unprofessional?

“No, no. We all promised not to do anything that would tip the scales. For your assessment.”

“Fuck the assessment, Mira! I like you. I’ve liked you for months! I want to—“

Mira cut her off with a hand over her mouth. It was a desperate and abnormally forward gesture. This was the opposite of Mira’s hand on her face moments before.

“Don’t tell me what you want, please. I can’t handle that. I don’t want to do something I’ll regret so please have mercy on me and don’t say anything more.” Mira’s face was distraught.

Zoey left.

Chapter Text

Office hours were tense the following week. 

Of course Rumi knew, Mira must have told her. Zoey wondered what Mira had told Rumi. That Zoey was some stalking freak? That Zoey almost kissed her in Mira’s own classroom?

Students kept coming in and out and they kept answering questions. But outside of that the three kept to themselves.

It was a relief to see Abby. 

“Hi Professor,” Abby said to Zoey. Then to the others, “Professor Cho, Mira.”

Rumi and Mira gave affectionate nods, but were busy enough to go right back to whatever they were working on.

“You can call me Zoey, Abby,” Zoey said. Abby’s face told Zoey that he saw that she was on edge. “What can I help you with?”

“I… I have a personal question that I need help with,” Abby said. “But maybe I should come back another time…”

“No, it’s alright. I can’t guarantee I can help with personal issues but I can try.” Zoey said, forcing more of a smile while starting to return to grade papers.

“I’m… I’m dating this… person. And I’m a little nervous about… how sex will work?”

Zoey stopped and looked up. In her periphery she could see Mira looking too.

Being a newer professor Zoey hadn’t really teased out where she stood on how to respond to students’ overly personal questions. It made sense that Abby came to her: Zoey had challenged Abby safely multiple times and he had been better for it. She was openly queer, and in his eyes an authority he could trust. It was a risk trusting this question with a non-queer person or with the campus’ psychological services.

Zoey took a breath, letting his innocence soothe her formerly ragged attitude. “Have you had sex before?”

Abby nodded. “Yes.”

“Then why are you worrying about sex with this person?”

Zoey expected Abby to say something misinformed. Something about Bobby’s anatomy or trans people in general. 

Instead he said, “I just really care about them and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

His voice was so small. He was so scared.

Zoey grabbed his very large hand.

“I’m sure this person shares the same feelings,” Zoey said. “And sex with every single person is different for lots of different reasons. You have to do yourself a favor and just talk to them ahead of time, no matter who it is. No matter if you’ve dated someone like them before or not.”

A lump caught in Zoey’s throat and she shoved it down.

“And maybe they won’t feel the same way or maybe it won’t work out, but it’s better to have talked it out so there’s understanding.” Zoey said, careful to not look around the room.

Abby smiled. He nodded. Zoey got the feeling he knew all those things already, but needed to hear them from someone he trusted all the same. Zoey took a note to talk to him about his feelings about being newly queer soon. Zoey thought maybe he wasn’t there yet, probably just enjoying his time with Bobby before having to deal with what it meant for his personal identity.

The moment Abby left it was like Mira woke up.

“Rumi.” Mira said, forcefully. Rumi ignored her.

“Rumi.”

“No.” Rumi said without looking up from her grading, answering some unknown question.

“She did it for us.”

“No, you know what will happen.” Rumi said.

Zoey was confused. What had she done for them?

“Rumi, I can’t—“

“Think of them, Mira. Think.”

“We don’t even know how she’s going to decide!” Mira was pointing her whole hand at Zoey now.

As if Zoey wasn’t even in the room. As if they had the power over something and were deciding whether to even clue Zoey in.

Zoey was done. She grabbed her things and she left. The sun hadn’t gone down yet, so Mira didn’t have to follow her for safety. Zoey was glad she didn’t.

Chapter Text

Abby huffed in the direction of the freshmen leaving the student gym. Despite having just finished his shower and the fact that he was now dressed for class, he took the time to go over to the bench press the freshmen were just at. He put his bag down and pushed it under the bench so it was out of the way before peeling the iron plates off the bar and carrying them one by one back to where they belonged on the communal weight racks.

When the iron plates were back in their intended spots he picked his bag back up and walked out.

Abby loved being the first one in the gym in the morning for many reasons. He could focus. Only committed people were in the gym at 5 am, unlike the zoo it became at 3pm when people that had never stepped into a gym before decided to try out their student benefit.

His favorite reason for going to the gym early was this: his walk to his first class. The campus was cold and the grass was covered in dew. It was quiet and empty other than the movement of single students or professors going from place to place in the distance. It was so peaceful.

On the way to upper campus Abby picked up his mobile order from the coffee shop. The smell was divine and the warmth in his hand made him smile lightly.

He reached the spot by the social sciences main building that had become his home base recently. It was only the ledge of a planter really but it was his spot all the same.

Their spot.

Abby gave Bobby a large smile as they approached. Unlike the first time they sat here, this time Abby didn’t try to temper the smile. Bobby got a blast of Abby’s full toothy beam.

Bobby’s hair was damp, their sweater was on backwards. Their aged leather satchel slung heavy off one of their shoulders, making them walk slightly tilted.

Abby got up as Bobby approached and with one hand lifted Bobby’s bag off their shoulder without asking. Abby could see the relief through Bobby’s look of protest.

“It’s infuriating how easy you make that look,” Bobby snarled.

Abby gave a soft laugh as he put the bag down next to Bobby’s spot. He handed Bobby the single coffee mug Abby had picked up earlier.

All the morning grumpiness washed out of Bobby’s body as they looked up at Abby and finally smiled.

“For someone who claims he’s new to this you’re pretty good,” Bobby says with a cheeky smile, taking the first sip of their coffee.

Abby blushed and smiled to himself as he got out his shaker bottle and protein powder.

Abby and Bobby had been doing this routine every Tuesday and Thursday for a couple weeks now. Sitting, caffeinating, then talking.

~~~~~~~

“I heard what you said.”

Abby hadn’t noticed Bobby when he left the professors’ office. Abby had stayed an additional 30 mins talking with Professor Yoo before finally packing up and leaving. Bobby had been waiting for him.

Abby didn’t say anything at first, but did dare to look at Bobby. He saw the way Bobby’s hair was coifed and their facial hair trimmed. He saw the bright orange paint on Bobby’s nails. He took in Bobby’s fashion— orange overalls to match their nails, white converse covered in quotes, a long sleeve white shirt and this old leather satchel that looked days from death. Wrapped around the strap was a fuzzy pink sweater.

Everything about Bobby’s appearance was soft. The colors, their body, their hair, the sweater. Everything except the way their knuckles were white around the satchel strap and the way their body was taut with anger and the way they looked at Abby.

“Did you also hear what Professor Yoo said?” Abby asked, his eyes shifting to the ground.

There was a beat of silence.

“Yes, I did.”

Abby sighed.

“I had never thought about… all of that,” Abby said. It took less than a second for him to realize he hadn’t been clear enough. “People and how they represent themselves. And the roles we put ourselves into.”

Bobby didn’t say anything, just remained staring.

“I hurt you.” Abby said. “I hurt you, and I don’t even know you.”

Bobby’s knuckles were no longer white, but the stare remained.

“I wish I hadn’t said anything. After Professor Yoo’s talk I was hoping you hadn’t heard it.”

“I left a pen I liked with Mira,” Bobby said, eyes still on Abby’s face. “I froze holding the door cracked when I heard what you said.”

Abby waited for Bobby to say more. They didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Abby said. “I know… it’s not enough for what I did. So if there’s anything I can do please let me know.”

Bobby’s eyes were searching for something in Abby’s face. Or maybe they were searching for everything in Abby’s face. Then it seemed that Bobby made a decision, because they let their whole body sigh and relax. Then they took out their phone and groaned before putting it back in their bag and looking around.

Abby looked around too, trying to discern what Bobby was looking for. Finally Bobby sighed again, this time out of frustration.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

Abby pulled a flip phone out of his pocket and handed it to Bobby. Bobby stared at it in their hand. They looked like they were both marveling at the technology that should now be in a museum and also like the phone wasn’t going to be able to help them.

“I don’t suppose you have campus safety’s number saved, right?” Bobby asked. Abby shook his head. “Yeah, that tracks. Okay.”

Bobby handed back the flip phone and headed towards the office door.

“Wait—“ Abby said, and Bobby stopped at the door. “Why do you need campus security?”

Bobby gestured to the sky with a hand. “It’s dark.”

Abby shrugged in confusion.

“I’m trans. Visibly trans.”

Abby shrugged again, doing his best to ignore his discomfort at not really knowing what Bobby said.

“I… I need an escort to my car.”

Oh. Oh.

“I can walk with you,” Abby offered.

Bobby glowered at him while considering. Abby raised three fingers of his right hand.

“I’ll get you to your car safe, I swear on…”

“Protein?”

For the first time, Bobby and Abby both smiled. Abby nodded.

“I swear on protein.”

~~~~~~~

Bobby hadn’t asked Abby to wait for them at the next office hours. Abby did anyways.

The first time they walked near silently.

The next time they talked about the weather, and Bobby explained what a star chart was. That week Abby found his birth certificate at Bobby’s request for his birth time.

As the routine developed they started to talk about anything and everything.

At one point, Bobby finally noticed or maybe finally cared that Abby would say goodbye to Bobby and walk off in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

“Where did you park?” Bobby asked.

Abby looked in the direction he usually walked.

“Oh, I take the bus.”

Bobby cocked their head. “How far away do you live?”

Abby thought about it. “Like… ten miles? You know the mall? Behind that.”

Bobby nodded, their mouth a thin line.

“How long does it take?”

“45 minutes depending.”

“Wait, you get up at the crack of dawn, you catch a 45 minute bus, you go to the gym, stack all of your classes Tuesday and Thursday, and then go to office hours and after that you spend another 45 minutes on the bus?”

“The morning bus doesn’t run that early so I have to take two different busses and it takes more like an hour actually.”

Bobby’s face goes blank.

“Hop in.”

“No really I—“

“Get in,” Bobby says, unlocking their little Prius C.

~~~~~~~

The routine changed again when Bobby accepted Abby’s offer to come in to meet his cat.

The first time Bobby stepped into the house their face gave them away.

“Not what you expected?” Abby asked with a soft laugh.

Bobby just shook their head.

The house was small, and a single story. Immediately there was a smell of cat and perfume. The walls were wallpapered in pinks and light greens. The couches were covered in plastic. The furniture looked like it was bought as a set when TVs were still only in black and white.

From somewhere down a back hallway bounded a small gray kitten.

“This is Derpy,” said Abby as Bobby squealed in delight.

“Oh my god they’re so cute,”Bobby said, hoisting the cat up into their arms. They didn’t flinch as the kitten used its claws to climb up to Bobby’s shoulders.

“I thought having Derpy around would cheer up my Nan. I was mostly correct,” Abby said. “Until I started getting calls about Derpy somehow getting onto the ceiling fan.” Abby laughed at the ridiculousness.

“Is your Nan—“

“She’s fine, she’s in a rehab facility,” Abby said. Then his eyes got wide. “Not like addiction! She had a really bad UTI and she’s not fully back after being hospitalized. She’s making good progress though.”

Bobby nodded with a small smile, turning their attention back to the small kitten cupping a lock of Bobby’s wavy hair with his little clawed paw.

“Did you grow up with your grandparents?”

Abby nodded while he put his bag down at the table and unloaded his study materials.

“Is your grandad—“

“He’s dead,” Abby deadpanned. “Rest in hell.”

Bobby stilled. They hadn’t broached any serious topics really, not since Abby had apologized that first day.

“It’s okay,” Abby said. “He wasn’t good for my Nan. And he wouldn’t have liked you.”

Bobby felt ice creep down his spine at the comment.

“His loss, truly. Ever since I met you I’ve only felt sad for him. You’re ten times the person he ever was.” Abby continued, fussing with the highlighters on the table. “His life would have been way less miserable if he’d been strong enough to be himself like you are.”

Bobby didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Do you think he was… queer or something?” Bobby asked with a quiet voice.

Abby twisted his lips in thought. “I don’t know. Probably not. He was just abusive and raised by abusive bigots.”

“My Nan’s not like that though. I don’t know how she got tricked into being with him but she’s never said a mean thing about anyone,” Abby said. “So there’s hope for me.”

The kitten had seen a fly and was suddenly chasing it in the corners of the living room, allowing Bobby the freedom to approach Abby.

“You’re not like him,” Bobby said, placing their hand on Abby’s bicep.

Abby froze at the touch and at the tenderness in Bobby’s voice.

“The thing I called you, that came from him. Somewhere in me. I don’t even remember the conscious thought to use the word.” Abby said. “I mean slur.”

Bobby moved so that their face was in Abby’s eye line.

“Okay, you called me a slur. Before you knew me. That sucked.” Bobby said. “But you’ve also walked me to my car every day, and you listen to everything I ramble about. And you’ve been doing that for weeks.”

Bobby watched Abby’s face go white except for the very top of his ears, which went a little pink. Bobby’s hand was still on Abby’s arm.

“Do you think you’ll ever use that slur again?” Bobby asked.

Abby shook his head.

“I believe you,” Bobby said, squeezing Abby’s arm gently for emphasis. “You have to learn to believe yourself.”

~~~~~~

Abby had noticed the way Bobby had started to take up more and more of his waking thoughts. He thought of things that would make Bobbie laugh, and concepts that he only wanted Bobbie to explain to him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he started to think about Bobby’s lips. How pink they were, how plump, how they might feel under his own. The thoughts made Abby short circuit, made his body hot, made him lose focus.

Abby hit a couple lifting personal records that week just to get his head on straight.

It wasn’t that Abby thought there was anything wrong with having a crush on Bobby— he just didn’t know how much of his thoughts were just based on curiosity. Plus he wanted to keep Bobby as a friend. Something about these new thoughts felt wrong, felt like he needed to reject them.

Abby didn’t realize the small ways he was starting to avoid Bobby at first. Abby still walked Bobby to their car, but sometimes Abby would get another session in at the gym before hitting the bus. Other times Bobby would drive him home but he’d claim that Nan hadn’t been feeling well and needed to rest so they’d say goodbye at the car.

Abby knew Bobby could tell something was up. Abby didn’t know how to bring it up, and more importantly, he didn’t want to. He wanted his feelings to go away. They felt too dangerous.

~~~~~~

Bobby didn’t bring it up though. They kept walking, and talking, and Abby would get flustered and leave. They would wave at each other across campus.

Sometimes when Professor Yoo was working with another student Abby would watch Bobby interact with Mira. Mira would say something to question Bobby’s dissertation, and then Mira would sit back while she watched Bobby talk through their argument. Bobby externally processed like a wild fire, jumping from conclusion to conclusion, citing evidence and asking questions.

The best part was when Bobby got this flash in their eyes and a smirk. Mira would match his smirk because they both knew that Bobby had found it— the way to put the nail in the coffin of the conversation.

“Abby?”

Professor Yoo was looking at him, studying where the smile on his face was coming from. Then she smiled a knowing smile too.

“Yeah— I don’t know how she does it sometimes. I get stuck watching too.”

Abby blushed from the relief of the mistake.

That night Abby let Bobby drive him home. The car ride started out silently, and the silence hung like a fog cloud.

“Something… on your mind?” Bobby asked.

Abby considered, zoning out through his passenger side window.

“You’re brilliant.” Abby said.

Bobby was quiet in response. Too quiet. For too long. At a red light Abby dared a look at them. Bobby was waiting for his eyes. Not scared, not shy, just searching.

“I… your dissertation defense prep. With Mira. It’s impressive.”

“You’re impressive,” Bobby said, a bit of bite to their words.

Abby scoffed. “I’m not saying you’re brilliant in comparison to me,” Abby narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make my compliment smaller than it is.”

Bobby let a smirk show before the light turned green. Abby kept looking at them.

“Well… thank you then,” Bobby said, completely smug. “You are impressive though.”

Bobby could practically hear Abby’s eyes roll.

“What do you think I’m talking about?” Bobby asked.

Abby pushed his head back against the head rest and slackened his shoulders.

“I don’t know, my muscles?” Abby said.

Bobby pulled the car up to the curb in front of Abby’s house.

“One of them,” Bobby said, this time turning their body to look at Abby.

Abby looked down at his body, scratching his chin and making a very silly thinking face. Then he flexed his forearm and put his other hand’s pointer finger along a particularly popping vein.

“This one?”

Bobby giggled loudly before covering their mouth. They always did that when their real laugh came out.

“No doofus, this one,” Bobby said before putting a flat palm over Abby’s right pec.

“It’s called a pectoral,” Abby said in a loud whisper.

Bobby’s eyes flashed with mischief and they turned their flat hand into a fist and playfully punched the pec.

“I knew that!” Bobby said. “Okay honestly I didn’t know the full word for it but it also isn’t what I meant! Let me be sincere!”

Abby laughed and then settled his body. Bobby exhaled the silliness out of their body.

“Why are you getting a degree in Gerontology?” Bobby asked.

“It was a degree with low credit requirements.”

“Nope.” Bobby said, catching the lie.

“The professors are the hottest.”

“True but also no.”

“The field of gerontology will see a massive increase in need as the current largest generations continue to age so it’s a goldmine.”

“Abby.”

Abby wanted to smile. He had intended to tease. The answers he gave were the answers he had given everyone else he knew from school. But those people didn’t know Abby, and Bobby did.

“I had a friend in high school tell me that they didn’t want to live past 65. 65. Our country has such a negative perspective on getting older.” Abby started, quiet and steady. “My Nan was 67 when I heard this from a friend at 16. I couldn’t imagine my Nan not wanting to live to be there to care for me, or to go to her swing dance lessons, or volunteer at the library.”

Abby couldn’t look at Bobby right now.

“My Nan lives a full life and is my best friend. Yes, aging is challenging but people give up way too fast. If I can help even a single person on their journey of aging then my degree would be worth it.”

Abby felt Bobby’s hand, back on his chest.

“Your heart.” Bobby said. “In case it wasn’t clear what was impressive.”

Abby turned to Bobby. He took in how soft Bobby’s look was. Abby placed one of his over Bobby’s.

“You must really care about it a lot,” Bobby breathed, their breath catching in the middle. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“It’s not… because… of—“

Abby’s eyes were on Bobby’s lips. Bobby’s eyes were on his.

Oh no.

Abby took his hand off Bobby’s and opened the door to the car. He grabbed his bag but didn’t throw it over his back.

“Thanks for the ride, see you tomorrow,” Abby said quickly, before heading straight for his front door. Bobby sat back up straight, leaving the hunched position where their face had been so close to Abby’s.

When Abby got inside he pressed his back into the closed door and knocked the back of his head into the wood.

“Seriously? What am I, fourteen?”

Abby moved his bag out of the way and looked down at his hard-on pushing forward against his grey sweatpants.

~~~~~~

Abby had been so close to torpedo-ing his whole friendship with Bobby that night. Over what, a compliment?

Luckily Abby had a group project meeting during office hours the next day. He knew it was going to sound like a bad excuse, even if it was a real one.

He was walking across the quad when he shot off the text to Bobby. Abby looked up from his phone and was surprised to see Bobby sitting in the distance on the ledge of a planter. Abby halted, considering if he should change course in order to not be seen. Then he saw Bobby take out his phone.

Bobby opened their phone and read, then read the text again. Then Bobby hung their head forward and pushed a hand through their hair. Abby was close enough to see Bobby’s expression. Concern. Not annoyance. A tinge of sadness.

Abby put a hand on his right pec. He knew Bobby deserved the truth. At this point he was being selfish and cowardly trying to keep their relationship from changing.

Abby’s heart was beating fast again. He could feel it under his palm. He started walking towards Bobby, ignoring the rational thought screaming at him to stop.

He did stop. Not because of his brain convincing him otherwise. But because of the pair of guys walking past Bobby.

Abby knew these guys. He saw them every morning. He’d spotted for them occasionally. Bobby hadn’t noticed them yet but Abby did. They were looking at Bobby.

Abby didn’t like the way they were looking at Bobby.

Abby was moving again, quickening his pace.

He was within earshot now, but he was too slow. He wasn’t to them before he heard them direct a comment in Bobby’s direction, in their earshot.

“God this school would be so much better without all these t******* around.”

Abby could feel the rage bubbling through his body, up into every flexed muscle. Abby probably couldn’t take them both, but they’d end up in the hospital if he had any say about it. Abby caught Bobby’s face though. Amused. Unbothered. But Abby knew Bobby. Abby saw what Bobby hid well enough that the gym bros couldn’t register: Bobby’s fear.

“Bobby,” Abby said, somehow willing his voice normal. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Bobby looked up and their eyes turned warm at the sight of Abby. Bobby didn’t realize that Abby had seen everything go down. The gym bros saw Abby though and slowed.

“Ready for our date?” Abby asked, hand outstretched. Bobby’s look of confusion turned to a look of realization. They weaved their fingers into Abby’s and gathered their things. Abby kissed the back of Bobby’s hand before looking up to ‘discover’ the gym bros watching.

“Oh hey guys,” Abby said. “Have you met my partner, Bobby?”

The bros were speechless.

“We’re off to celebrate Bobby getting nominated for a Nobel peace prize,” Abby said. His voice was deep and strong. He was establishing his dominance. “You ever had sex with a Nobel nominee? You should try it sometime.”

Abby pulled Bobby away.

“Anyway see y’all tomorrow morning! I’m probably going to have to skip leg day.”

He punctuated the whole thing with a wink.

Bobby smiled as they watched the stun sink farther and farther into their faces. Bobby even gave a little wave in their direction. Abby pulled Bobby into the Social Sciences building and into an empty lecture hall.

“Nobel peace prize? ‘Ever had sex with a Nobel nominee’? ‘I’ll have to skip leg day?!” Bobby wheezed and keeled over with laughter. “Holy shit, Abby!”

Bobby laughed for a couple minutes before they realized how silent the room was otherwise. Abby’s palms were on a desk, his back expanding and compressing in slow breaths. Bobby couldn’t see his face, but could see how his back convulsed on an exhale.

“…Abby?”

Abby turned his hand into a fist and let it fall fast towards the desk before he caught it at the last moment.

Bobby went over and put a hand on Abby’s back. More sobs escaped.

“Fucking assholes,” Abby let out in a whimper.

“Yeah, they’re assholes. Are you crying because they’re assholes?”

Abby wiped the back of a hand across his eyes.

“I’m crying because it’s fucked up.”

Bobby nodded, rubbing his hand up and down the hard exterior of Abby’s back.

“It was brave, what you did. Getting in the way. Marking you to me.”

Abby looked up at Bobby. His eyebrows were furrowed. He looked furious.

“I’m brave? I’m brave? You were fucking drinking coffee and two huge guys called you a slur.” Bobby watched the anger melt to horror as more tears fell. “Huge like me. The word I used.”

Bobby moved their hands to Abby’s face, breaking the tear trails with the pads of their thumbs.

“It’s fucked up you have to be brave to exist,” Abby said, before looping his arms around Bobby and burying his face in Bobby’s neck. Bobby squeezed around Abby’s neck.

“I’m sorry I know you probably deal with cis guilt all the time,” Abby said.

Bobby chuckled. “Maybe, but it’s not every day someone stands up for me by saying I’m going to fuck them so good they won’t be able to walk right in the morning.”

Abby laughs, snot and spittle ending up on Bobby’s neck. Then Abby groaned at the mess.

“It’s okay,” Bobby reassured. “Where did that even come from?”

Abby laughed again.

“I was going to fight them. I could feel it. But then I saw your face, the way you were playing it. I just took your lead.” Abby said. “They don’t know what a fucking Nobel Peace prize even is, and it was the first impressive thing I could think of.”

Bobby should have been laughing, Abby thought. Instead there was a silence. Finally in a small voice Bobby spoke.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” Bobby said. “The gym means so much to you, and if they decide to make your life hell or corner you in the locker room I’ll never forgive myself.”

Abby pulled himself away to look at Bobby. Abby finally saw it— the same fear Abby had for Bobby. The same care.

Abby put a hand on Bobby’s face and brushed his thumb over Bobby’s cheek.

“If I get beat up for fake dating you then I might as well at least be real dating you.”

Abby was brave this time and kept Bobby’s eye contact. Instead of confusion or fear or amusement there was only confirmation.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Bobby said. “Do you want that?”

Abby’s eyes were on Bobby’s lips. He nodded.

Bobby pulled Abby’s face down to meet theirs. The kiss was rough and eager like Bobby had been waiting for it for weeks. Abby’s arms wrapped around Bobby’s torso as their bodies pressed together. All of the crush feelings Abby had been suppressing for weeks came rushing to the forefront. Instead of pain like it had felt like up until now, this time it felt like bliss.

Bobby’s lips were so soft. Abby let Bobby lead, mirroring as Bobby moved their head and pressed into Abby’s nose and eventually opened their mouth slightly. Abby felt Bobby’s tongue on his lip and took that as the invitation to meet Bobby’s tongue with his.

They could have kissed forever.

But Bobby got a text, and they broke apart so Bobby could check.

“Fuck!” Bobby said, hopping up and looking for their bag.

“Everything okay?” Abby asked.

“I’m late to Mira’s class,” Bobby said.

“Oh, shit, okay.” Abby said. “We can talk about all of this… later?”

“Would you walk me to class?” Bobby asked.

“I… I would… but…”

Bobby looked up. Abby was pressing his bag into his crotch.

“Wait, do you have an erection right now?”

Abby blushed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while and—“

Bobby approached and put a finger over Abby’s lips. Bobby waited for Abby to look back at them.

“I have to go,” Bobby whispered. “But you having an erection is the hottest thing ever. Can I see?”

Abby hesitated but did move the book bag. Bobby gasped at the protruding bump in Abby’s jeans. Bobby’s hand flexed to their side.

“That makes it so much harder to leave,” Bobby whispered to themself.

“Go!” Abby laughed. Being looked at that way by Bobby felt really hot.

Bobby backed out of the classroom slowly while looking from Abby’s dick to his face. Abby decided to lean back on the professor’s table to make it look even more impressive right as Bobby was leaving. Abby was awarded with a scandalized squeal before Bobby literally ran away towards Mira’s class.

~~~~~~~~

They’d made out a couple times now.

Abby started spending his lunch breaks in Bobby’s grad student dorm. It hadn’t been that painful really to admit their feelings to each other and decide that they were dating. Not too much changed.

Now when they walked to the car they held hands. In the car Abby would put a hand on Bobby’s thigh or he’d play with the hair at the back of Bobby’s neck. Sometimes they’d see each other across the quad and dip into the nearest all gender restroom to steal a kiss or two.

Things heated quickly, however. A simple kiss would turn into a make out session which would lead to hands starting to explore until Abby had to tap out.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, because god did he. He’d never masturbated so much in his Nan’s house before, not even in high school.

He was just scared. And he felt alone. The only person he would have talked to about this stuff before would have been Bobby, and now that felt weird because this time all his questions were about Bobby.

Abby owed everything to Professor Yoo. If she hadn’t called him out when he’d used that slur he wouldn’t be making out with Bobby now. Abby knew he had the top grade in Professor Yoo’s class. He still came to office hours every time, but he no longer had that many questions to ask. He did have a question this time.

He almost didn’t ask it. Professor Yoo didn’t look like she usually did. Neither did the other two professors. Professor Cho looked stiff enough to break. Mira, usually so calm and cool, kept fussing with things on her desk and on her laptop and on her phone. And Professor Yoo looked the worst, breaking the nib of her pencil with how hard she was pushing it into the paper.

“You can call me Zoey,” she said when Abby started his question.

Abby really admired Zoey. She was a new professor to the school but had easily become the favorite of him and some of his peers. She was funny and sincere and caring. Even now when Abby could tell something was stressing her out she still pushed it all away when she saw he needed her.

He could have been more specific with his questions. He had fucked a couple of women before, but every time he had done exactly what gym friends had told him. He used dirty talk that was just word for word a quote from some guy he didn’t know very well. He didn’t want that to be the approach he took with Bobby.

More than anything Abby just wanted to be good. He wanted their sex to be good. And he didn’t really know how to give that to Bobby.

When he left he went directly to Bobby’s dorm. He texted his Nan saying that he may stay at a friends tonight and not to wait up.

Bobby answered after the fourth knock.

“Hey,” Bobby said in the voice that drove Abby insane. They’d learned in their recent make out session that Abby reacted well to Bobby whispering surprising things in his ear.

Abby sighed, smiling and shaking his head at the gremlin he was dating.

“I want to have sex with you,” Abby said.

“Do you want to come in first?” Bobby said, laughing at Abby still standing on his front doorstep. Abby entered, put his bag in its usual spot next to the desk, and then turned back to Bobby expectantly.

“Well kiss me then,” Bobby laughed. Abby didn’t move.

“I’m nervous,” Abby said.

Bobby’s demeanor changed to something more considerate and they took one of Abby’s hands in theirs.

“What are you nervous about?” Bobby asked.

“I’m worried I won’t know what to do,” Abby said.

“Two things— one, you’ll definitely know what to do. Two, I’m not expecting you to know what to do,” Bobby said. “You don’t have to be perfect. And we can take things slow.”

“Slow how?”

“Hmmm. Well, what do you want out of sex?”

“You to feel good,” Abby said.

“That’s sweet. I don’t want to have sex with you unless you’re feeling good too though. Sex is about us, not just me.”

Abby nodded.

Bobby used Abby’s hand to guide him to the desk chair.

“It’s helpful to know what you want. And then we go from there. For example, I want to make out until you pop a tent and then I want to take you into my mouth.”

Abby jolted at the mere image.

“Your turn,” Bobby said, letting their eyes drift down Abby’s body hungrily.

Abby shifted uncomfortably. “That’s the thing— I don’t know how to say what I want. Like I want you to cum of course but I don’t know what words to use or what actions would help you get there.”

Bobby nodded. “New territory for sure.”

Bobby paced a little.

“What is sex like for you?” Abby asked. “Or, what I mean is like what do you like?”

“Hmmm,” Bobby smiled. “I like my dick sucked. I like a dick or fingers in my vagina or my ass. I love giving head and penetrating too.”

Abby took that information in.

“So… words for body parts.” Abby asked. Bobby nodded.

“I’ll call it my clit or my dick or my t-dick, I like them all. My chest is just my chest.”

Abby nodded.

“Do you have any words you like or don’t like?”

Abby shook his head.

“Abby,” Bobby said.

“Yes?” Abby asked.

“I don’t expect you to have to lead. Do you understand?” Bobby asked. “I’m not a woman. Do you understand? There are no gender roles here. We get to define everything.”

Abby made a face of disgust. “Do you think I think you’re a woman?”

Bobby laughed, then placed their legs over Abby’s lap, straddling him.

“That was sexy of you to say,” Bobby whispered in that voice that made Abby audibly groan in response.

“I don’t want to do a lot tonight,” Bobby said. “I don’t want to accidentally overwhelm or get overwhelmed. But you should stay over.”

Abby nodded, starting to get more distracted by Bobby’s weight on him, their proximity to his face.

“I think I can handle only sleep tonight,” Abby said. “But I want to talk about it more, please.”

Bobby smiled. “Absolutely.”

They kissed, tender and sweet. Bobby had learned that they could lean their full weight into Abby without worry.

Abby leaned forward and lifted himself and Bobby out of the chair. Bobby smiled into their kiss.

When they were finally in the twin sized bed, Bobby stopped the kiss.

”Turn that way,” Bobby said. Abby obeyed.

Abby liked the feeling of Bobby’s hand around his middle. He liked the way Bobby’s warm body pushed into his back.

“I was in my pjs but you should get more comfortable. These jeans are so thick,” Bobby said. Abby froze.

”Not a line! Genuinely just trying to sleep.” Bobby reassured.

Abby got out of bed and unzipped his jeans. He dropped them to the floor and threw them to his bag before getting back into bed.

”Your boxer briefs are cute,” Bobby said.

Abby let out a little huffing noise.

”Okay, I’ll leave you alone.”

Abby turned just his head so he could catch Bobby’s eye. He didn’t want them to leave him alone. Ever.

Bobby smiled and kissed his cheek. Then they squeezed Abby tighter and they slept.

Chapter Text

Abby couldn’t help his smile. The way walking down the halls felt a little like floating. He didn’t even need to caffeinate as much as he usually did. Something else was keeping his energy up.

He was excited to update Zoey. He wouldn’t go into detail, but he wanted to thank her for her advice. Bobby and Abby sure had… grown closer since Abby accepted that Zoey was right.

Abby entered the class early, walking past the groups of students waiting until the last second so they could smoke or talk to friends.

Abby’s smile diminished a little when he first saw Zoey. She was sitting at the professor’s desk, hands in her hair, her foot tapping erratically on the floor. She seemed to be reviewing material for class. Then she stood up and paced, occasionally writing something on the board before erasing it.

“Zoey?” Abby asked.

Zoey jumped at his voice. She hadn’t realized she had company.

“Abby, you scared me!”

Abby chuckled softly, and she smiled.

“Are you… okay?” He asked.

“Yeah! Totally!” Zoey said, gathering her various papers.

“Are you s—“

Abby was interrupted by the flood of students entering and getting set up for the lecture.

Abby watched Zoey put on a fake smile, welcoming everyone in.

It was the worst lecture Abby had ever seen Zoey give. Usually Zoey was sly and quippy, ready to make a word play joke. Today she was slow and awkward, fumbling the structure of her lesson.

“Milestones of aging… are… hmm, well, things happen in life.” Zoey went to review her notes.

What was going on? Abby thought. 

Abby raised his hand. Zoey saw him at his usual spot in the back. She moved to the front of her desk and hopped up to sit on its edge.

She exhaled.

“Yes, Abby.”

“What would you say are the most pivotal experiences that change an aging adult’s life?”

Zoey looked at Abby. Zoey knew Abby knew the answer. What was he up to?

Abby smiled and nodded at her. For a second she let the rest of the class fade away.

“Great question, Abby. Anything could be pivotal if it changes the way the person experiences life. The ones we usually talk about are the Great Fall and Retirement.” Zoey said. “The Great Fall refers to a fall that changes the state of an adult’s mobility. Could break a hip or a leg, could even mean something worse if there isn’t anyone to help the adult get up again.”

Abby nodded. “Why would retirement be pivotal? Isn't retirement positive?”

Zoey’d figured it out. He was slow pitching her entire lecture.

“Actually, there was a study that said people in majority died within 10 years of retirement.” Zoey said, her eyes finally looking to the other students in the room. “Why might we think that is?”

“We retire too old in this country,” offered a student named Mingey.

Zoey laughed. “Maybe, but also maybe we retire too early. Why would I say that?”

The students turned to one another. Abby listened to his fellow desk mates but didn’t answer the question for them.

“Working is… good, somehow?” The eldest adult in the class, a grandmother named Edith said.

“Good, we’re on the right track. What could having a workplace give us?” Zoey asked, pointed hand outstretched towards the class, looking for an answer.

“Purpose,” Brent said. Brent was a marine using his GI Bill to finally get his bachelor’s degree.

Zoey nodded. “Oorah.” Brent laughed and classmates smiled. “What else?”

Another student, Jim: “Money?”

“Yes, freedom to do more than whatever is possible on a fixed income. Also ability to get medical care that isn’t covered by Medicare.” Zoey nodded. “Next?”

“Friends?”

“Yes, a social network you see for 5 days a week. Next?”

“Activity?”

“Yes, physical activity. Mobility tends to go down after retirement.”

Abby smiled to himself. Zoey was back, even if momentarily.

At the end of the class students were packing up.

“Oh! Everyone! I forgot!” Zoey said in the loudest voice she could muster. “My office hours location has changed. Now I’m on the other side of the building, 221B.”

Some nods, a thumbs up. Everyone else seemed cool with the change. Abby wasn’t.

He started to make his way towards Zoey before he felt his pocket buzz. Call from Nan. Talking to Zoey could wait.

~~~~~~

It took until well after office hours for them to find Derpy. After all their looking, come to find out he had fallen asleep on top of the fridge.

Texting wasn’t super easy on Abby’s phone so he decided to call Bobby.

“Is that my boyfriend on the phone?” Bobby asked.

Abby smiled big. “Yes, it is.”

Abby could hear Bobby’s smile too.

“We found him,” Abby said.

“Oh thank god. I love that little gremlin.” Bobby said. “I missed you at office hours. The campus escort was not nearly as handsome.” Bobby grinned at the sound of Abby’s smile growing on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah how… was it?”

“Honestly, weird. Mira seemed… well, I know Mira. I’ve known Mira for almost 8 years now. She knew me before I started using they/them pronouns, before I started medical transitioning.” Bobby was speaking fast.

“I’d never seen her like that,” they continued. “She didn’t even look at Rumi the whole time, and she didn’t refute any of the stupid things I said.”

Abby huffed. “You don’t say stupid things.”

“No, that's just it,” Bobby said. “I did say stupid things. On purpose. Just to get a reaction.”

Abby was quiet.

“Hey you had Zoey’s class today right? Was she sick today?”

Abby cleared his throat.

“Actually she told us her office location moved.”

Now Bobby was the quiet one.

“What?” Abby asked.

“Babe, I have to go. Talk to you later?”

Abby nodded before saying, “Yes alright, see you later. Sleep well.”

Bobby needed to think.

~~~~~~

Bobby gave it a week. A week seemed like an appropriate amount of time to wait to see if the behavior would go away on its own. But no, another couple office hours passed and Mira and Rumi were exactly the same. Mira was a shell and Rumi if anything was leaning into her persona of celebrity professor more.

Bobby didn’t really have time to deal with grown adult’s drama but they couldn’t have Mira this way. They needed her to be on her A-game professionally before they started dissertation defense.

Bobby watched the waves of freshmen exit the lecture hall. They waited until the waves thinned before entering.

Rumi was on her last sentences with her last student. Bobby walked down the center aisle and smiled when Rumi looked over and gave a wave of recognition before focusing back on the student. Bobby stayed far enough away that they couldn’t hear what the student was talking about.

Bobby marveled at the way Rumi could give her total focus to each individual student. She made every one of her mass of students feel special. Bobby remembered. Before there was Mira, there was Rumi.

The student thanked her and ran off. Rumi turned the same practiced attention on Bobby. They hadn’t been her focus for a couple years. 

“Bobby! What can I help you with?”

“I actually wanted to see if you had lunch plans,” Bobby said innocently.

“I did have lunch plans but they were cancelled, so you’re taking advantage of a rare opportunity,” Rumi said, starting to pack her bag at the mention of someone cancelling on her.

“It’s my lucky day,” Bobby said, giving Rumi a small smile.

There was a lounge on campus with a restaurant only for faculty and their guests. Bobby had eaten there with Mira a couple of times, but never with Rumi.

“Lunch is on me,” Rumi said.

“Rumi, no—“ 

Rumi raised a hand, cutting Bobby off. 

“You’ve done more than enough to earn a lunch, broke grad student. I’ve been there. Let me pay.”

Bobby sheepishly nodded.

They talked about nothing of consequence for most of the meal. They were almost finished before Rumi spoke up.

“I don’t believe this was a purely social call, Bobby.” Rumi said, sipping her tea and giving them a pointed look.

Bobby had watched her eat and talk the entire time, trying to catch moments where her facade broke. Rumi was good at hiding anything in short bursts, but with enough time around her you could see what was underneath.

Rumi was tired, exhausted even.

She was sad.

She was lonely.

Bobby was about to speak when they stopped and noticed Rumi’s attention had completely shifted. They turned their body to follow Rumi’s eyes. Zoey was picking up a to-go order. She didn’t see Rumi or Bobby.

Bobby turned back to see Rumi before she could pull her eyes from Zoey. Bobby couldn’t remember a time he had ever seen Rumi fully without the mask. But here she was, mask gone for a long couple seconds while looking at her fellow professor.

Bobby waited for Rumi to turn back to them before proceeding.

Had this been Mira, Bobby would have just asked. They’d cut to the chase and Bobby would step out of bounds of a student/teacher relationship but they’d get somewhere. Rumi didn’t operate that way. One had to be more delicate.

Rumi looked at them again with her mask back on, a soft smile on her face.

“You know I’m working towards being a professor,” Bobby said.

Rumi nodded. “I’m excited for you to finally experience what students put us through.”

Bobby laughed, and they observed how their laugh put Rumi at ease like aloe vera on a burn.

“What do you love about teaching?” Bobby asked, taking a sip of water to seem nonchalant.

Rumi thought for a second.

“I don’t think I love teaching,” Rumi said.

Bobby had to remember to swallow to avoid a spit-take. They waited for Rumi to respond to their obvious surprise.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the students and helping them on their paths.” Rumi said, pushing her remaining pesto pasta around her plate with her fork. “I don’t particularly love keeping up with the fields, or curriculum building, or prep. The material has never been the most important thing to me.”

“You want to be there for the students, like Mira.” Bobby nodded.

“Yeah, kind of. I can’t really be Mira for a thousand freshmen,” Rumi said. “Plus, Mira does have the passion for the field I never had. Too much, sometimes, but it’s never been difficult for her.”

Bobby could see it, Rumi’s envy.

“You’re close to tenure, right?” Bobby asked.

Rumi nodded. “Next year.”

“Why not angle for becoming a grad student professor? If not now then definitely after tenure?” Bobby asked.

It was a marvel sitting so close to Rumi. Something was allowing them to see her thought process for once. They saw the brief feeling of accomplishment completely overshadowed by something else, some negative emotion that made them think that Rumi thought being a grad school professor was out of reach.

“I– I don’t think I could publish enough to stay relevant in the grad space,” she said.

A lie. Rumi was lying to Bobby, and they could tell. Of all the things Bobby prepared for in order to have this lunch, Rumi lying wasn’t one of them.

“What advice would you give me if I were in your situation?” Bobby asked slowly.

Rumi looked quizzically at them. The look of the ambiguous negativity washed away. The professor in Rumi came to the forefront.

“What situation?” Rumi asked.

“Being in a job that I was good at, that I got a lot of external validation from, but ultimately didn’t love as much as people would assume.” Bobby asked, daring to hold her eye contact. “About to get tenure but also feeling… well whatever way you are feeling.”

Rumi blinked.

Then she leaned back in her chair, an arm over the back, and she used a hand to free her neck of her silk scarf. Bobby looked around to see if anyone was clocking the colorful ink poking out of the very top of her shirt where her collarbones met. Luckily they’d been eating for so long that the lounge had cleared out.

Rumi was zoning out into the floor beside Bobby’s chair. For a second Bobby thought she was going to cry, and then they thought Rumi was going to yell at them for being so disrespectful.

“Why’d you ask me to lunch?” Rumi asked finally, flicking her eyes up to Bobby. Her voice was level and sharp.

“Mira’s broken. I need her. So do the rest of her students but selfishly I need her.”

“So why isn’t this lunch with her?”

Bobby dared a huff in Rumi’s direction.

“Rumi you’re joking, right?” Bobby said. The flash in Rumi’s eyes said Bobby was dangerously close to losing the first name privilege. Bobby had a ton more to say but changed tactics in the last second and just kept the stare.

Somehow Bobby won. The electricity under Rumi’s voice faded and her body seemed to relax. She shifted in her seat again, then motioned for the check.

“I can–” Bobby began, but stopped when Rumi shook her head.

Rumi paid the bill and thanked the waiter before getting up. Bobby followed suit. They started to walk out.

“Your scarf.” Bobby whispered when Rumi put her hand on the door.

Rumi looked down at the fabric in her hand for longer than was necessary before putting the scarf back on. Then she laughed.

“What?” Bobby asked. They walked outside and into the sun before Rumi turned to Bobby.

“I’ve been treating you like my aunt treats me,” Rumi said. “This whole conversation. Wow, that is so fucked. It’s like word for word.”

Rumi just cursed? Did Bobby do this? Did Bobby somehow break Rumi and not help un-break Mira?

Rumi physically shook out her body, another alarming thing to Bobby. Then she turned back to them and put a hand on their shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Bobby,” Rumi said. “I fucked up. Wow I fucked up. Maybe for years. I’m such a hypocrite.”

“I– I wouldn’t–”

“No, I’m not being hard on myself. It’s laughable really, I promise.”

Bobby nodded, still fully in shock.

Then Rumi stilled, her face knotting into something else, her fingers moving to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Fuck,” She said softly.

Bobby didn’t know what to do.

“Would… you like… a hug?” Bobby asked.

Rumi looked at Bobby, her face brightening.

“No, thank you. But the sentiment is appreciated. And so is this lunch.” Rumi said. “I really thought Mira’s relationships with students was risky, like it would eventually just bite her in the ass some day. I didn’t always understand why she would risk it. I didn’t really consider she was getting something out of it too.”

Bobby studied Rumi’s face. It was emotional whiplash watching Rumi change so much so quickly over such a short span of time. This Rumi was the closest to the true Rumi Bobby knew: The professor that saw Bobby and encouraged them to take an intro gender and sexuality studies course. The professor that introduced Bobby to Mira as a freshman, who encouraged them to keep going to her office hours even if she was scary.

“My students wouldn’t do this for me. We don’t have that relationship.” Rumi said. “I don’t allow it.”

“I know it’s different because I know you beyond the first lecture I took of yours. Hell, I’ve been around you almost as much as I’m around Mira since you’re often together.” Bobby said. “But you’re still my professor too. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”

Rumi dropped her eyes. Bobby knew what would happen if Rumi looked at Bobby after such a confession.

“I care about you too, Rumi,” Bobby said. “I wouldn’t have gotten lunch with you if I didn’t.”

Rumi nodded and turned. They walked until Bobby had to go in a different direction for their next lecture. Then she stopped.

“Do you know where Zoey’s new office is?” Rumi asked.

“I don’t, but I can find out,” Bobby smiled.

~~~~~~

Chapter Text

Zoey had been glad that her request to switch offices was approved without any follow up questions.

Her new office felt too big. Too big and too quiet. It was actually the same size as her old office except it had one less desk and her office mate had an opposite schedule and therefore Zoey had the place to herself. By the end of the first week she’d caught up on all of her backlog and then some out of sheer boredom.

There was something keeping her from unpacking the box of her things. She didn’t know if it was hope that Mira and Rumi would magically come to their senses or if it was out of fear that she would have to move again.

Her mystery office mate sure was moved in. He had diplomas and accolades hung on the walls. He had neatly organized bookshelves with dust collecting on them. He had more framed photos on his desk than anyone Zoey had ever met— nearly half his desk was little framed photos all leaning on their built-in stands, all too close together to even see all of the photos.

One day Zoey’s curiosity led her to looking at his desk. Like the bookshelf, the frames had an even layer of dust on them, so Zoey could only see the frames visible without needing to touch the other frames to look. Zoey had seen enough crime shows to know not to leave evidence.

She could see four photos. 

The first was of the professor and, she assumed, his husband since they were kissing at an altar. They were young and smiling and both in crisp black tuxes.

The second was of the same two men, now a little older and bigger, with four children in a JC Penney style family glamour shot. The kids looked nothing like the men, but their smiles all matched in size.

The third was of the professor and his husband and two women and a child. Zoey gasped as she looked. She thought the woman with the long braid was Rumi. It looked like her, except this woman’s hair was black and her face was softer than Rumi’s. It took a minute for Zoey to get over her awe and pull her attention away and back to the other people in the picture. The other woman was handsome and smiling. Her arm was wrapped around the waist of the woman with the braid. Zoey didn’t recognize her at first because instead of looking at the camera, Celine was looking at the woman.

Zoey knew that look. It’s how she caught herself peering at Mira when no one else was looking. Something in Zoey’s chest fell.

Finally the child. She was in the arms of the professor’s husband. Her face was also slightly obscured because she too was looking at the woman with the braid. Her face wasn’t smiling in the typical way a toddler doesn’t yet know how to smile for a camera. Zoey imagined the four of them setting up the camera on a timer and then all trying to get Rumi to look.

Rumi.

The child was Rumi. Her hair was brown and short in waves, and only half her face was visible, but it was evident in the way her eyes analyzed her mother.

Zoey looked away, took a moment to breathe. She’d never considered what Rumi looked like as a baby. She’d never thought of what Rumi’s mom looked like, or that Celine…

The last photo was of the professor in full grad regalia next to Rumi, also in grad regalia. Her hair was a much darker purple and she looked like she might fall over with how much ‘grad swag’ she wore— cords for organizations, sashes for statuses, pins and stoles. Zoey smiled at how Rumi even had a rainbow one to match the professor.

Zoey could have looked at the frames forever. She could have sat and stared and tried to commit Rumi to memory. Zoey’s stomach twisted. Maybe she was supposed to hate Rumi instead. She obviously had some sort of manipulative power over Mira. Maybe Rumi was some sort of evil person.

Even if it would have been easier to believe Rumi was evil, Zoey couldn’t do it. She didn’t have any hard evidence, but somewhere in her heart she felt like she knew Rumi was the same kind and goofy person she’d seen bowl and play board games.

It just didn’t make sense!

Zoey wanted to know the whole truth, wanted to see what was going on, wanted to fucking communicate like adults.

Zoey also wanted to lick her wounds.

~~~~~

Zoey couldn’t help but relate her inability to unpacking her desk box to her inability to unpack her apartment.

Her apartment felt big only because there was nothing on the walls and nothing on the floor. She’d managed to get a couch, or at least she’d accepted the one that was left by the last tenant. In the corner in her bedroom were the piles of unopened boxes of her stuff.

She missed so much. She missed cooking. She’d been living on takeout. She missed having friends she could meet up with when she was bored. She missed Seoul and how everything was so walkable and the public transit actually worked well and was used by everyone. And she missed him.

She took out her phone and opened up her text thread with him.

Z

Hey stranger

X

Who you calling strange?

Z

How’s Seoul?

X

So much more boring without you.

Z

I miss you too.

X

🙃

Z

What’s new?

X

Actually I’m glad you asked…

Zoey blinked at the screen. A series of photos had appeared. Her ex on one knee. Her ex’s boyfriend smiling big, holding his left hand in front of half his face and pointing to the ring with the other hand’s pointer finger. A picture of the two of them kissing.

Zoey didn’t feel anything other than numb but the tears came anyway.

Z

OMG!!! CONGRATS!!!

X

You’ll be my best man, right?

Z

Of course! I’d be honored.

X

Good. Only requirement is you bring a hot date!

Z

I’m really happy for you, truly.

X

Thanks. I’m sad it wasn’t us, but I couldn’t have found him without you. You’re always a part of who I am.

Zoey smiled. She was actually happy for him. She loved him, even if she was no longer in love with him. He was a good person and they didn’t work out and he did a lot of work to make her still feel like a priority in his life. Maybe she should move back to Seoul, be a barnacle on his happiness…

X

Okay your turn. How’s the US? I want all the drama.

Z

It’s great! Loving my work here. Making lots of friends.

Zoey laughed when his call came up on her phone. He’d seen right through her lie. Of course he did.

“So there’s these women,” Zoey started without saying hello.

~~~~~

Zoey was early to her own office hours. Hours early, in fact. The call with her ex last night had been very helpful. She was reminded why she had moved in the first place, and why she wanted her own space to grow. It also helped her remember that there were other people on this earth than only Rumi and Mira, even if they both had the gravitational pull of two suns.

She would start by making new faculty friends. Another division meeting would be here before she knew it and she wanted to have someone to sit with.

She entered her office and was relieved that she was correct. A short and stout older gentleman with a silver flat top haircut and glasses sat behind the desk looking at the Windows 95 style monitor on his desk.

“Hello,” Zoey said before she put her bag on her desk.

“Oh, that’s…” He said, before making the connection. “My apologies. You must be Professor Yoo!”

He got up from his desk and walked over, meeting Zoey in the middle of the room.

“Yes, your new office mate! And you are—“

“Professor Spaulding, but you can call me Dick.” He said, taking her hand and shaking it.

A student knocked on the door and Zoey sat back behind her desk and allowed him to take it.

Everything Dick did exuded ‘Dad’. He helped the student and threw in a couple puns and jokes for good measure. Zoey tried not to focus too much on his teaching, instead focusing on her proposal to Celine for the budget usage.

When the student left, Dick beat Zoey to her own goal.

“So Professor Yoo—“

“Zoey, please. It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

Dick giggled before proceeding. “I’m sure that was by design,” he said. “I’m quite the talker. Part of why I’ve had my own office for so long.”

Zoey smiled. She liked him.

They talked about the school, how it’s changed in his tenure, the students, his husband, and his kids. Zoey in turn told him about her ex, moving to Seoul, getting the hang of her classes, Abby. She was careful not to bring up Rumi or Mira. She was trying to start a life without them, like she’d had to do with her ex.

Eventually he stood.

“Well, I have a lecture.” Dick said. “An absolute delight speaking with you Zoey, I hope I’ll run into you more.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Zoey said with a smile. Then Dick walked out the door.

Abby followed Dick’s exit with his entrance.

“Abby!” Zoey said, riding the excitement the conversation with Dick had left her. “How are you?”

“I came here to ask you exactly that,” Abby said. 

Her glimmer dulled a bit at Abby’s seriousness.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t seemed like yourself lately,” Abby said. “At lecture—“

“Thank you,” Zoey said, catching Abby before he could continue. “You’re right. It’s been hard. It’s my first year, and I’m still learning the ropes. I really appreciated your help in class.”

Abby allowed a small smile and he sat down across from her desk.

“Have you had many visitors?” He asked.

“You’re my first. I guess the change has kept students away.” Zoey felt a pang of guilt over that realization.

Abby nodded, frowning at Zoey’s expression.

“I took your advice,” Abby said.

Zoey immediately perked up.

“And?!” Zoey asked, searching Abby’s face for a sign of how it went.

“I have a partner now,” Abby smiled.

Zoey leapt up in the air with glee, making Abby laugh his deep laugh.

~~~~~~

Zoey was in the office already when Dick arrived. She had multiple books open on her desk and was staring at her laptop like she was willing it to talk to her.

“Working hard or hardly working?” Dick said, setting his briefcase down next to his desk. He’d been doing the same thing for so long there was an impression on the floor from where his bag went.

“Just a thing for the Dean,” Zoey said without registering what she’d revealed.

Dick made a humpf sound and started to get to his own work.

“Do you… know her well? The Dean?” Zoey asked.

“I did, once upon a time. Can’t say anyone knows her these days.” Dick said. When he looked up he could see the curiosity behind Zoey’s eyes.

“She’d always been this ambitious, she just once had someone that… tempered that for her. Reminded her to live.”

“Professor Cho’s mom?” Rumi asked.

Dick’s look of surprise was short.

“Yes, actually. We called her Mimi,” Dick said. “She wasn’t half the professor Celine was but she was the best of us. Full of life and love.”

Zoey nodded.

“You know Rumi?” Dick asked.

“No, I don’t.” Zoey said. “Not really.”

~~~~~

Zoey liked her office mate. She started bringing them coffee like Mira used to. Zoey even started to get to know the professors in the surrounding offices too. She was proud of herself for not leaving again, for not starting over somewhere new.

It had been a couple weeks now.

She’d honestly almost allowed herself to forget it all. That is, until one Monday when she headed to her office early like she usually did when she was trying to catch a bit of time with Dick.

Dick wasn’t in the office though. He was outside it. Talking to Rumi.

Zoey luckily caught them before she had fully turned the corner. She ducked back behind it and watched from afar.

That’s when the feelings came flooding back again.

Zoey was so glad to see her, her heart picking up to see her friend. Then she reminded herself of how Rumi didn’t even look at her when shutting down Mira. What had Mira tried to say?

Even though Zoey was trying so hard to hate Rumi, she couldn’t help but watch Rumi interact with Dick.

Rumi wasn’t standing tall and rod-straight like she usually did. She was slightly hunched, her hands out in front of her like she was explaining something. Dick nodded slowly, putting a hand on Rumi’s shoulder. Rumi finally went in for a hug, but not a curt professional hug. Dick held her and she closed her eyes and squeezed. 

Zoey was lucky that when they separated Rumi walked away in the opposite direction of where Zoey had been hiding.

God, Zoey missed her. Missed her more than she missed her ex. Missed Rumi’s smile, missed what she and Rumi and Mira had together. She missed her kindness and her attention, the two things completely missing from the end of their friendship. She hated grieving someone alive and only steps away. The biggest feeling was jealousy. Zoey wanted to be the one comforting Rumi. Dick had done nothing negative to Zoey at all, but for a moment she felt overwhelmed with questions of an angry nature. Why him? Why not her?

Zoey gave it a couple minutes before she walked into the office.

“Hey, good morning,” Dick said.

Zoey chuckled. “It’s 1pm.”

Dick shrugged. It was always a good morning to him.

“How’s that thing for the Dean going?” Dick asked without looking up from his monitor.

Zoey exhaled.

“That good, huh?” Dick chuckled.

“Any advice?” Zoey asked, trying to let her previous feelings for Dick melt away.

Dick pushed back from his monitor and locked his fingers behind his head.

“Celine, Celine, the Dean, the ice queen,” he said.

Zoey was a little shocked at the disrespect. No one else would dare say such things about Celine, even in private. Not even Rumi, who probably had the most right to.

“Is it meant to be persuasive?” Dick asked.

Zoey nodded.

Dick gave a low whistle.

“It’ll have to be a complete vacuum. Waterproof. Airtight.”

Zoey nodded again. “What does she care about?”

Dick took a long time to think.

“Rumi. The department. The department because of Rumi.”

Zoey’s ears perked up.

“What do you mean?”

“Hmmm….” Dick began, obviously trying to get the words right before speaking.

“It took my husband and I two years to adopt my eldest. Even after two years we weren’t ready. Could you imagine one day suddenly becoming a parent to a child with no warning?”

Zoey strapped in. She readjusted to sit more comfortably before linking her fingers together on the desk, palms pressing together.

“Imagine having to learn how to put a toddler to sleep while also suddenly feeling the pressure of affording her activities and one day a car and anything else she could ever need.”

“I remember a time when the only ambition Celine had was to Mimi and being the best professor she could be. When she ended up with Rumi things changed. They had to.”

“We did the best we could with Rumi at first. Helped watch her whenever we could.” Dick chuckled at a memory. “One time Celine came to pick her up and she and my husband were in a duet of ‘Take me or Leave me’ from Rent. She was like, five. She had no clue what she was singing, and my husband thought it was hilarious.”

“Celine was so tired. She’d just been made assistant dean. She was so afraid of being a bad mom to Rumi. She didn’t know how to handle Rumi doing something above age appropriateness. She got into it with my husband.”

“We still watched her, but less. Then we adopted our kids from infancy and our availability was suddenly all gone.” Dick’s eyes got darker. “Somewhere along the way she stopped singing.”

He shook his head, like it was an etch-a-sketch trying to start fresh.

“Celine did improve the university leaps and bounds under her leadership. We ranked in the top 25 social sciences schools when she was an Assistant Dean, top 10 in her first three years as the Dean and then the top public university for social sciences for the last five years in a row. I’m sure a lot of that has to do with Rumi and Mira, much to Celine’s pride and chagrin respectively.”

Zoey chewed on all the information. “So you’re saying Celine wouldn’t have tried to be the Dean at all if—“

“If she hadn’t wanted to give Rumi a better life, yes.” Dick said. “Somewhere along the way Celine started equating her value as a Dean to her value as a parent. The better the program, the better Rumi did academically, the better Professor Rumi was, the better parent Celine must be.”

“That’s… a lot of pressure.” Zoey said. “On Celine and Rumi both.”

Dick nodded. For a long moment he was silent, his face considering something to say.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Rumi,” Dick said. “Wait no, I mean I don’t know your side. But I hope you’ll forgive Rumi, like we forgave Celine.”

Zoey’s eyes were unfocused when she nodded her head slowly.

“But your relationship’s never been the same?” She asked.

“We’ve always been there for Rumi,” Dick said. “But yes, Celine’s been lost from herself for a while.”

Dick scratched his scruff.

“There’s a part of me that still has hope my friend will come back,” Dick said. “I miss her.”

Zoey’s eyes watered and she sniffed them back.

“Yeah,” she said. “I get that.”. 

~~~~~~

Zoey had successfully spun around two students in the hallway. She was kicking herself that she had timed her travel during a common passing period for classes. Zoey hated feeling so small and hated feeling like the only salmon swimming upstream.

She allowed herself a sigh of relief as she approached the door to the Dean’s office. In the last minute she ducked under the arm of some hulking frat bro, turning slightly away from the door. When she turned back—

WHAM!

Zoey’s ass bounced on the concrete and luckily her bag was still fully zipped and secured to her with the chest strap otherwise her work would have been trampled by undergraduates. Hell, she was about to be trampled by undergraduates.

“Zoey!” 

Zoey looked up and felt Rumi’s hand fasten around her forearm before she could register what was going on. Rumi pulled her up and into a hug.

“I’m so sorry!” Rumi said, pulling away to look at Zoey’s face. “Are you okay?”

Zoey was still stunned. She’d barely registered hitting the brick wall that was Rumi. She definitely hadn’t registered the effortless lift to her feet or the world’s fastest hug.

“I… what?” Zoey said, finally looking up at her.

Rumi’s eyes were filled with concern. There wasn’t an ounce of the coldness Zoey remembered when Rumi had shut Mira down nearly a month prior.

“Did you hit your head? Did I give you a concussion?” 

“Rumi—“

“What’s today’s date?”

“Rumi.”

Rumi stopped talking finally. Her look remained soft.

Only then did Zoey realize Rumi’s hand was still on her forearm. Zoey slowly drew her arm into herself and out of Rumi’s grasp. Rumi’s look finally changed to one of realization as she saw the conflicted looks on Zoey’s face.

“Oh.” Rumi said, dropping her eyes a little. “Right.”

Zoey stood still for a second, daring a look at her. The guilt on Rumi’s face was paramount.

Zoey did what she’d been doing for weeks and tried to choose the path of strength.

“Bye, Rumi,” Zoey said, moving to pass by her.

“Zoey, wait,” Rumi said. Zoey stopped but didn’t turn to face her again.

“I made a mistake. I made a lot of mistakes, actually,” Rumi said. “I know I don’t deserve it, but would you give me a chance to explain? Mira too.”

Zoey didn’t move. She pinched her eyes together.

“Please,” Rumi whispered.

Zoey slowly turned around.

Rumi approached her and reached a hand out for her shoulder before stopping and hovering it just in front of Zoey’s shoulder. The sheer hope in Rumi’s eyes made Zoey weaken. She knew she might regret conceding to Rumi’s request— but hadn’t Zoey wanted exactly this? An apology, an explanation?

Zoey looked at her and nodded.

Chapter Text

Zoey tapped her pen. She filled the empty office with the sound of the tapping. She checked the time on her phone again. 

Since their office hours were still the same time, Rumi had said that she and Mira would pick Zoey up and they would walk to their cars together. Like old times.

Texting with Rumi had been fine. They finally all had each other’s numbers and Rumi put them all in an unnamed group chat.

Zoey reread the texts. They were very simple. She reread Mira’s “see you soon” like she had maybe a dozen times that day already.

Zoey wished she had caught Dick in his office today. Timing didn’t work out. She could have used a good conversation to get out some of her nerves.

The only window in the room was behind Dick’s desk. Zoey got up and walked over, squeezing past where the desk nearly hit the wall.

The window looked out into the courtyard of the building. It was probably a good thing she didn’t know this window looked directly down at her old office’s door sooner. She could have been obsessively watching their door for weeks if she’d known.

There they were.

Rumi and Mira closed the door behind them. Rumi had her very sensible back pack on and Mira had her worn black birkin slung over one shoulder.

Zoey’s breath caught just looking at them.

They stopped outside their door to talk. Even though Zoey couldn’t hear it, Mira seemed to be comforting Rumi. Rumi’s head was tilted down, her arms still by her sides. Mira put a hand on her shoulder and raised another hand while she spoke like she always did when driving a point home. Rumi nodded slowly.

Zoey watched Rumi and Mira take a deep breath together. Only then did she realize she hadn’t breathed in a while. She tried to take one too. Then she watched them walk in the direction of the stairs opposite where they were in the courtyard.

When they were totally out of view Zoey’s body jumped into motion. They were going to be there any second. Zoey turned and accidentally slammed her hip into Dick’s ancient metal desk. Zoey keeled back in pain. Then she heard it.

A domino of picture frames hit the ground.

She opened her eyes in horror. Only the original visible four managed to stay on the desk. Everything else was now on a pile on the ground.

She walked around the desk so she was by the pile and started picking the frames up one by one.

Zoey didn’t hear the knock. She didn’t register the door opening. Only when Mira called her name did she look up.

“What… what is this?”

Zoey turned the picture frame so they could see. She didn’t need to. They knew what picture Zoey was holding.

Mira put a hand on Rumi’s shoulder. Rumi had opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she felt the pressure of Mira’s palm.

“It’s a photo from our wedding,” Mira said.

Zoey turned it back to herself.

The frame was white with gold filigree. They were walking away from the altar, holding hands and laughing with joy. They looked more beautiful than Zoey could have ever imagined. Mira wore a simple and elegant silky dress that fit her long thin body perfectly. Rumi was wearing a white button up vest with no shirt underneath and long wide legged pants. Her arms had only the outlines of their tattoos. Behind Rumi in the distance was a crying but smiling Celine. Dick was at the altar as the officiant.

Zoey put the frame on Dick’s desk. She continued to pick frames up off the floor and place them on the desk, not taking the time to arrange. She didn’t notice when Rumi tried to step forward to help and Mira held her back with the same grip on her shoulder.

“I—“ Rumi began before Mira cut her off.

“This was going to be a part of our explanation.” She said. “I’m sorry you found out this way instead of from us. Literally minutes before we intended to tell you.”

Zoey was silent. She stood up, dusted off her pants, and picked her bag back up.

“What’s the point,” she asked. “You’ve obviously omitted if not downright lied to me for months. To my face. You made me think we were friends… god, Mira I made a pass at you.”

She sighed. She didn’t know whether to keep her eyes on the floor or to look at them. She looked.

Mira looked calm and collected for the first time since before Zoey almost kissed her. Rumi on the other hand looked like the grip from Mira was the only thing keeping her up. Silent tears streaked down her cheeks. Her face was ridden with shame and guilt and grief.

“I had so much hope. I really don’t know how I can trust either of you ever again,” Zoey finished.

Mira nodded, and Rumi’s eyes widened in horror.

“At least let us give you your answers. You deserve that and so much more,” Mira said.

“Why should I trust them?” Zoey asked.

“Because we love you,” Rumi managed, her voice twisted and cracked.

~~~~~~

“You could work anywhere in the country with your qualifications, you know.” Mira said, scooping a bit of ice cream with her spoon from their shared cup.

“I don’t want to work anywhere in the country,” Rumi said as she turned her spoon of ice cream upside down onto her tongue. “I want to continue to work here.”

“Why, though,” Mira asked. “You could work at some fancy private school and make good money and help shape the minds of the overprivileged.”

“What, students like you?” Rumi sneered, pushing her shoulder up against Mira’s.

“Honestly, yes. You could change a lot of ‘me’s in the world. God knows we need it.” Mira said, rolling her eyes at herself.

Rumi smiled and then got quiet. “I wouldn’t leave here. I wouldn’t leave her. And I wouldn’t leave…”

“You better not say me,” Mira said sternly.

Rumi clicked her tongue. “Why is it so hard to believe you’re worth staying for.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe it. Believe me, I know I’m awesome. I’m a delight.” Rumi chuckled softly at Mira’s playfulness. “I just also think if you loved me you would leave me. Because the only thing I want in the entire fucking world is your happiness and I don’t believe you would be happy here for much longer.”

Mira waited for Rumi’s response. When none came, she looked up.

“I do, you know.” Rumi said. “I love you.”

Mira blushed, looked down, then back up. She recovered.

“Love me less so you can be free,” Mira said, pressing her shoulder farther into Rumi’s flesh. Their faces were so close together. If they weren’t in the quad Mira would have kissed her right then.

“Why do you get to be the one doomed to be tortured by love,” Rumi asked. “Maybe I want some of that too.”

God Mira hated Rumi. Hated that she loved her. Hated how infuriating she was.

Mira stood up, breaking the romance so she could stand firmly in reality.

“Okay, what if we both leave?” Mira asked, pointing her spoon in Rumi’s direction.

“And go where? This has the best gender and sexuality studies program in the state and you know the head of the department is going to retire in three years. He is already grooming you as his replacement and it’s your third year teaching,” Rumi said. “There isn’t another opportunity like this anywhere! I won’t let you set your career back decades just because you didn’t want me to be here.”

“Rumi–”

“Mira.”

Rumi was using her serious voice now. The one she reserved for the worst of their fights and occasionally the bedroom.

“You are going to lead the country’s best gender and sexuality studies program. I am going to continue to welcome every freshman to the world of social sciences.” Rumi got up and approached Mira who was still frozen in place. “And I’m going to fucking marry you and we are going to have a wonderful life together.”

Mira was white as a ghost. They’d never brought up the m-word before.

“Got it?” Rumi asked.

Mira nodded, the biggest smile growing on her face.

“Now take me back to that tiny apartment of yours and let me fuck that smile off your face.”

~~~~~

“This is bu– outrageous, Celine,” Mira said, her knuckles white where she leaned her weight on Celine’s desk.

“There must be consequences for your student’s behaviors. It represents our department poorly.” Celine said, not even looking at Mira.

“They didn’t break a law, they have the right to organize,” Mira said, one hand palm up, her voice finding more evenness.

“I am not arresting them. It is within my rights to pay for the cost of repairing the damage done by vandalism out of the organizing body’s budget.”

“The Gender and Sexuality Studies Center is not directly affiliated with the Gender and Sexuality Association. That’s a students’ club,” Mira said. “Plus, there is nothing tying them to the vandalism. If anything, the vandalism should be seen as a response against the students standing up against the administration.”

“I’d like to remind you that you yourself are more a representative of the administration than you are a student,” Celine said. The woman hadn’t looked at Mira once yet. “I will not allow our social sciences department to get a reputation for creating this kind of disturbance. Our goal is to create educated citizens of the world.”

“Celine,” Mira’s voice was quiet and focused. She was leveraging all of her rage into her next point. “A truly educated populace will stand for what is right in the face of injustices in society. It is woven into queer DNA.”

Celine’s eyes shot to her at the word ‘queer’. The intensity did startle Mira a little, not that she showed it.

“These students do not know how good they have it,” Celine said. “If they want to go and get themselves arrested after they’ve finished their degree, so be it. But while they are students here they represent this program and will evangelize a respectable program until the day after they cross that stage with their diplomas.”

Mira could no longer hold back her look of disgust.

Celine continued.

“Any student that fails to uphold the values of our department will be dropped from your program. And given you just became the head of the department, you don’t want to lose too many, otherwise I will have to cut funding to your program completely.”

“You are threatening their lives,” Mira said, a finger pointing to Celine’s face. “For some of my students this program is everything to them. It’s their home, it’s their family.”

“Your students, or you?” Celine shot back.

Mira wanted to throw something, to scream. Instead she did the only thing she knew would hurt Celine.

“This program isn’t my family,” Mira said. “Rumi is.”

Mira watched the way in which Celine went from made of stone to made of glass. Mira could so easily break her if she truly wanted. But despite everything, she didn’t.

“I’ll see you for dinner Sunday,” Mira said before turning and leaving Celine alone in her office.

~~~~~

“Tell me again, please,” Rumi said. “What happened?”

Celine looked over at Rumi. They were sitting in her dorm. Celine had told her she didn’t need to get a campus job, but Rumi wanted to become a resident assistant as a sophomore undergraduate anyways. Celine missed her at home.

Celine sighed.

“When we found out your mother was pregnant we really hoped his behavior would change.” She said. “It did, just not in the way we hoped. Instead of protesting less, he protested more.”

“Why?” Rumi asked. “Didn’t he… didn’t he care?”

Celine looked at her child. She’d grown so wise, so caring, so considerate. Celine let her own feelings over the situation melt away.

“He did care, in his own way.” She said. “When your mother told us she was pregnant it was the happiest either of us had ever been. You were a surprise to all of us, and such a gift. It changed your father in an instant. Now he had someone to fight for.”

Rumi picked at the hangnails on her fingers. Celine reached over and grabbed one of her hands.

“He wanted to make the world better for you.”

Rumi looked up at her.

“Why do you hate him then?”

Celine dropped her hand.

“I don’t hate him. I never can.” Celine said. “I loved your father. I loved the way he loved your mother, and you, and how your mother loved him.”

Celine smiled to herself.

“He was my best friend. And he made a different choice than I did.”

Rumi’s lips went thin and her brow wrinkled.

“You chose me too.”

Celine looked up. She never considered that Rumi would ever get it. That she’d ever understand.

Celine nodded.

“Uncle Dick said you gave up everything for me. I see that now.”

A tear fell from Celine’s eyes and she caught it before Rumi could notice.

“So he got arrested,” Rumi said, asking Celine to continue.

Celine nodded, giving herself a chance to breathe again before continuing.

“He’d been arrested a lot. This time he got framed for having something they thought was a pipe bomb,” She said. “Although when you look at the court evidence it was a spray can. They arrested him anyway, put him in a more aggressive and violent side of the prison.”

“Your father had a huge heart like you did. He was part of the literacy program in the prison. He was captain of a basketball team.”

“He was killed,” Rumi said, her face hardened like stone.

Celine nodded. “He got between friends during a fight. It was an accident.”

“And then Mom–” Rumi said.

“Yes.”

“Do you miss them?” Rumi asked.

Celine let a sob through. “Every single day.”

Rumi looked over at Celine. Celine had never been this honest before. There wasn’t a lesson at the end of a lecture. This was just her aunt Celine as a person missing her family.

Rumi turned and pulled Celine into a hug, holding her while she cried. Celine resisted with whatever parental instincts were still intact before resigning and sinking into Rumi’s arms.

They stayed like that for an indefinable amount of time. Finally Celine pulled away to look at Rumi.

“When did you get so grown,” Celine asked, brushing a thumb over Rumi’s cheeks. Rumi smiled, her face glowing. “They would be so proud of you. You’re so dedicated and brilliant and caring. Top of your class, a resident assistant, already looking into grad schools.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” Rumi said. “For everything. I know it wasn’t easy, raising me alone.”

Celine smiled and her eyes watered again. Rumi smiled back.

~~~~~

“What do you mean you’re getting them for him?”

Celine’s eyes traced the outline on Rumi’s arm.

“I wanted something to remember him by,” Rumi said innocently.

Celine took another sip of her wine. She could feel Mira’s eyes boring into her from across the table next to Rumi.

“This is not the way to remember your father.”

“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Rumi said simply. “Do you think I wouldn’t get along with him or something?”

Celine finished her glass.

“Oh no, you’d definitely get along with him,” She said, flashing her eyes to Mira.

“Then why are the tattoos such a big problem?” Rumi asked.

“Rumi, you're so early in your career! Students are going to see you and think–”

“That she’s rad as hell?” Mira cut in, daring Celine to say anything farther.

Dare accepted. “That you’re a criminal.”

Rumi looked like she’d been smacked.

“My father,” Rumi said, standing. “Was falsely convicted and contributed to the rehabilitation of fellow inmates. He was killed by accident. You know who told me that, Celine? You did.”

Rumi had never used Celine’s first name before.

“Your father was falsely convicted because of how he looked. And what, you want to make your life harder like that too?”

Rumi backed away from the table and left. Celine threw her napkin on the table and turned to Mira.

“You’ve done this to her. Let her have these ideas,” Celine said.

“Believe it or not, I had nothing to do with this decision.” Mira said, using her fork to pop more green beans in her mouth. “I’m afraid of needles. Tattoos aren’t a thing for me.”

Celine and Mira sat in silence for minutes. Rumi had left when dinner had only begun, so they continued to eat. Celine eyed the way Mira fidgeted with the engagement ring on her left hand. She obviously hadn’t gotten used to it yet.

“Shouldn’t you go after her?” Celine said.

“It’s impolite to leave a guest alone at the table,” Mira said.

“Fuck polite,” Celine said. Mira’s fork stopped mid-air. “You–”

Celine huffed as she found the right words.

“You’re supposed to protect her. Be loyal to her. Do anything she needs. Give your whole life to her. That’s what that ring means.”

Mira let the food find her mouth and she chewed and swallowed before patting her mouth with her napkin.

“I know.” Mira said. “I also know what she needs right now is space.”

Mira turned to Celine.

“I will devote my life to her. I already have, ring or no ring. But what she actually needs and what you think she needs can be two different things.”

“She doesn’t always know what she needs,” Celine said.

“Good thing I’m marrying the adult she’s become, not the child you raised,” Mira said, her look cold. “She’s not seven, Celine.”

“So you’re just, what, okay with this?” Celine asked, eyes wide.

“Okay with her doing whatever the fuck she wants with her body? You bet I am.”

“But what about–”

Mira held up a hand. “I will be there for her. Every step of the way.”

Celine’s look went hollow. “Well then I hope it doesn’t break you the way it broke me.”

~~~~~

“What?” Celine asked. Rumi had been holding her breath too long while looking at the turtles. Celine was starting to worry.

Rumi took a deep breath.

“I’m… dating someone,” Rumi said. “And it’s serious.”

Celine laughed and clapped her hands together in delight. “I’m so happy for you! Who are they?”

“What?” Rumi asked. “I thought… I thought you’d be more surprised.”

“Rumi, darling,” Celine laughed again, turning to her adult child. “Have you ever kept anything from me before? Because you’re not very good at it.”

Rumi’s ears went a little pink.

“Lying takes practice,” Celine said with a wink. “I guess it’s a lesson I forgot to teach you.”

Rumi groaned.

“How long have you known?”

“How long have you been dating?”

Rumi groaned louder, making Celine laugh harder. Rumi finally joined her and they laughed as they walked towards the otter exhibit.

“Okay, okay, now spill.”

“So this is the part you might not like. You know Mira Hong?”

Celine stopped walking.

“You’re dating another professor?”

“I know, it’s complicated. Same department, your department.” Rumi said. “You can yell at me later, but could you not be the dean for like ten more seconds?”

“No, I– I’m glad. She’s very talented and gets phenomenally high ratings for only a second year professor. And you’ll both share how you value your students.” Celine said, smiling softly at the ground. “It’s one of the things I loved about being with your mom.”

Rumi nodded for a second. They sat in silence watching the otters in the penguin enclosure swim from glass to glass.

“Were you and my mom… together?” Rumi asked.

“Yes,” Celine said, standing straighter like a weight had been lifted off her chest. “She was with your father too. He and I weren’t together though, not like that. We were together as people who loved your mother.”

Rumi watched as Celine moved her eye to glance at Rumi from the side, allowing her to remain still.

“Do… you have any questions?”

Rumi smiled in the direction of a playful otter.

“No. I knew.”

Celine turned her body to face Rumi’s.

“What do you mean you knew?” Celine asked.

“The way you talk about her, this look you got in your eye.” Rumi said. “Even the way you looked at me sometimes, like you could see her.”

“I can see her in you. It’s beautiful, how much you’re like her.”

“And it hurts you. You miss her.”

Celine nodded. “I do miss her. But she’s not here now, and you are. Being your parent is what fills my heart now.”

Rumi smiled wider.

“Okay seriously, tell me more. I don’t know her yet really, she’s kind of quiet isn’t she? Where did you go on your first date, is she nice to you?” Celine asked, smiling wide.

Rumi’s face went pinker.

“Wait— when did you?” Celine stopped.

“We met literally on finals week, Auntie. We didn’t start dating until after I graduated.”

Celine exhaled. “Okay, go on then. Tell me.”

~~~~~

Rumi never heard Mira suggest estrangement from Celine even once. Mira suggested they move away. Mira suggested trying to get Celine to retire. Mira suggested paying for Celine to take a vacation. Mira suggested Celine and Rumi take a vacation together.

No, the estrangement had been totally Rumi’s decision. 

Mira hated it.

Whenever Mira looked at Rumi it was like she was looking into a mirror of herself from a decade ago.

Mira came home to Rumi crying. Mira woke up to Rumi awake on the couch from insomnia. Even when Rumi was smiling, the grief was there.

They were supposed to be planning a wedding. Their wedding.

Celine didn’t look any better. 

There was only one reason Mira would find herself in the Dean’s office this soon after the start of the estrangement: Her students needed her.

“Celine,” Mira said, knocking on the door frame of Celine’s stark office. Celine didn’t know whether to look hopeful or outraged.

“Did you hear–?”

“Yes.” Celine said, unable to hold Mira’s eye contact. “I’m sorry that happened.”

Mira was angry that her feelings for her fiancé and her employer were getting in the way of her feeling her own. She should be raging. She should be crying. She should be the one needing to be held.

“How are they?” Celine asked.

Celine was an enigma to Mira at times like these. For how severe she was about decorum, she never fumbled a student’s pronouns. She never blinked an eye when a student identified as ‘demiromantic asexual unicorn’ or something that Mira knows Celine couldn’t actually understand.

“They’re scared, Celine.” Mira said. “But physically the X-Rays came back with no signs of breaks.”

“I have devoted all resources I can to finding the person responsible,” Celine said.

“Oh,” Mira said. She’d expected a fight. “Alright then.”

“Your students do matter to me, Mira.” Celine said. “And so do you.”

“As an employee.” Mira said.

“As my future daughter-in-law.” Celine said. “Even if–”

Celine’s voice broke and she coughed it off. “I am glad she has you. I know she’s safe with you.”

~~~~~

Mira didn’t tell Rumi about her conversation with Celine in Celine’s office. Rumi broke the estrangement anyways.

It had been her mom’s birthday. Rumi could feel Celine’s presence behind her at the gravestone. They didn’t need to say a word, they simply embraced and cried.

~~~~~

Mira’s hands shook. She cursed as she tried to reach the tiny white bar at the back of her dress with her fingers. She’d zipped it right to the unreachable spot between her shoulder blades and not all the way to the top.

She wished she had someone. She loved her career, but it left her social life limited. Her life was filled with students and exes, none of which would have been appropriate to invite to a wedding.

She didn’t even have a maid of honor or best man. She thought of Bobby, her favorite student. He would have done the job well.

No, the perfect person for the job was a couple doors away, getting ready to become Mira’s wife.

*Rap* *Rap*

Mira turned to the door. Her makeup wasn’t on, and her dress still hung off of her shoulders.

She walked over, careful not to trip on her short train.

”Who is it?”

”It’s Celine.”

Mira sighed before opening the door.

“Hi, Celine.”

There was nothing for them to fight about for once. Mira was proud of the wedding she’d planned, and the only thing left was getting ready. Still, she readied herself for whatever Celine was going to say.

Celine looked her up and down.

“Mira, you look…” Celine took a sharp breath. “You look stunning.”

Mira’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She hadn’t felt this way since her student was attacked, and here she was on her wedding day seconds from a panic attack. All in front of Celine.

Mira turned her back to her and placed her hands on the countertop in an attempt to steady them.

”Can I zip you up?”

Mira’s body stiffened, but she nodded her head.

Celine approached her and gently swept her sheet of pink hair over one shoulder to reveal the full back of the dress. Celine’s hands were delicate. She pulled up the dress gently and Mira heard the zip, felt the dress finally snug to her body.

”Thank you,” Mira managed.

”Would you like a braid? For Rumi. Maybe a small one.” Celine asked. “I don’t do as many anymore but I still know how.”

Mira chuckled softly. A braid for Rumi was a sweet idea. Mira nodded.

Mira couldn’t remember the last time anyone braided her hair. She closed her eyes to she sensation of Celine’s fingers combing through her hair.

“We know I shouldn’t be the one doing this.” Celine whispered, finally. “I can’t imagine not coming to your daughter’s wedding.”

Mira clenched her hands together. She’d been doing so well not thinking about it.

”Yeah, well,” Mira said. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

”It’s worse than her being dead,” Celine said. “Her being out there and not caring. Letting her own feelings get in the way of being in your life.”

Mira blinked, trying to understand what Celine was saying.

”I thought my mom would come back when I adopted Rumi,” Celine said. “But her feelings about me and Rumi’s mom and Rumi’s dad…”

Mira’s hands steadied. Her eyes were wide. The minute she felt Celine’s hands finish, Mira turned to face her.

Mira didn’t know what she was looking for. But she stared at Celine, looking for something.

”I know I’ve made mistakes, Mira. I know I’ll make more.” Celine put her hands on Mira’s exposed shoulders. “But for as long as you love my daughter, you’ll be my daughter too.”

Celine pulled Mira into her arms, allowing Mira’s head to hang on her shoulder.

”I know we aren’t huggers but you can’t get tears on your dress,” Celine added.

Mira laughed through a sob.

~~~~~

“The long sleeves Rumi did out of respect for Celine. It was never an official request,” Mira said, drinking the last of her blended strawberry margarita.

“There is a part of it that made me excited too. I love having a secret, something to give only the most important people in my life.” Rumi said, with a gentle smile.

“She runs cold anyways, so wearing extra garments was never an issue,” Mira said. “God you should feel her feet—“

Rumi playfully smacked Mira’s shoulder.

Zoey didn’t emote. She stayed as still as she had been the entire dinner. The only hopeful act Mira and Rumi could observe was the fact that Zoey did eat her enchiladas and did drink her Cadillac margarita.

“Hiding our marriage was an official request. Since Rumi was the Dean’s kid and I was a more senior professor that had gotten a department head position with years less experience than the other department heads it made sense.” Rumi said. “The only condition we had was that we got to keep our office.”

Zoey finished her last bite of enchilada. She swallowed.

“I don’t get it,” Zoey said. “I mean I get everything you’ve told me thus far but you made it seem like you and Celine were good again. How did I—“

“It was my fault,” Rumi said. Mira narrowed her eyes in disagreement but said nothing.

“I— we— Mira,” Rumi faltered, turning to Mira.

“We’re non-monogamous,” Mira said, and she let that sit in the air long enough for Zoey to take it in. “Always have been. I’ve dated people throughout our entire relationship, but Rumi—“

“I don’t develop feelings for people as easily. It’s always been an option for me but I have a lower… need and it takes a lot for me to like someone.” Rumi said, eyes on the middle of the table.

Zoey tried not to think to much about Rumi telling her about her sex drive.

“What does this—“ Zoey added, impatiently.

“I fell for a student,” Rumi said, eyes turning to Zoey now. Zoey could see the intensity behind her eyes.

“He was a grad student in the final semester of his degree, and you were a fourth year professor.” Mira said, trying to soften Rumi’s look. “That age difference isn’t that far from ours, and he wasn’t one of your students. And the heart wants what it wants.”

Rumi’s eyes went back to the table.

“We were found out. Celine walked in on us kissing in the office,” Rumi said, her voice losing strength with every word. “He was one of Dick’s students and Dick was able to help convince Celine not to expel him.”

“They opened an investigation anyway, against Rumi.” Mira said. “This was the end of last year. In Celine’s eyes Rumi had made multiple decisions that were a risk to her career, and a risk to her marriage.”

Mira brushed stray hair away from Rumi’s face.

“Rumi having more love in her life has never been a risk to our marriage,” Mira said.

Zoey put her elbows on the table and leaned her chin into her hands.

“What happened to him?” Zoey asked.

Rumi’s tears fell silently. “He, um, he—“

“He took the fall. For Rumi.” Mira said. “Said he had come onto her. That he didn’t give her an option to say no.”

Rumi nodded solemnly.

“Where is he now?” Zoey asked.

“He left,” Mira said, wrapping an arm around Rumi. “He did the decent thing, but then he left.”

Zoey nodded.

She watched the tapestry of stories weave in her mind. A waiter came and picked up their plates. Mira continued to hold Rumi, but her eyes were on Zoey.

Zoey took a breath in then began to summarize. “So I get hired and Celine puts me—“

“In our office, yes. Even when there were other, more empty offices available.”

“And then she sees us getting closer and makes me the liaison of this big budget decision.”

Rumi nodded. The tears had stopped falling.

“And you both knew I was meant as this sort of office plant by Celine,” Zoey said.

They both nodded.

“And because of the start of your careers and then the investigation, none of the faculty knows you’re married other than what, Dick and Celine?” They didn’t need to nod for Zoey to see it clear as day now.

“I think when Celine saw you were coming from Seoul she thought she was putting some stuffy traditional professor in our office,” Rumi said, sounding more like her usual self again. “That it would discourage any… shenanigans.”

“Are you saying I’m not stuffy and traditional?” Zoey said.

The joke came so far out of left field that Rumi snorted.

“Oh my god,” Rumi said, covering her face that was now as red as a tomato. This got them all laughing.

The laugh ended with the tension of the situation still floating, but Zoey felt a little more understanding.

“Celine didn’t know you at all, obviously.” Mira said. “And she didn’t know we would fall for you either.”

Mira and Rumi watched Zoey literally freeze, her drink stopping at her mouth.

Rumi nodded, and pushed her flat hand across the table until it was close but not touching Zoey’s.

“Mira fell first. Mira fell immediately,” Rumi said. “I took some time but I got there too.”

“It’s the first time we’ve fallen for the same person,” Mira said, her eyes soft on Rumi.

“And then I freaked out,” Rumi said. “I’d just been through this with Jinu, and Celine was already trying to cut the Gender and Sexuality Studies program again.”

“I thought if I could just get over you and focus on getting tenure—“

“But then I made a pass at Mira.” Zoey said, her eyes widening. She set the glass down.

“Did you know Celine manipulated Rumi into submitting a proposal against me? She said it would matter for her tenure application.” Mira said, eyes still on Rumi.

“In chronological order: I walked into an already fucked situation where I was being used by the Dean from the get-go. Then you both fell for me, then I was assigned the liaison to this big decision. During which I reveal I have feelings for Mira which meant there was possibility for us and you—“

“I did exactly what my aunt did. I overreacted out of fear.” Rumi said. “And I hurt you, the way that Celine is hurting me. Because I thought I would be protecting you. And Mira. And most importantly Mira’s students.”

Zoey got up from the booth and picked up her things. Rumi and Mira audibly gasped.

“Mexican food was a nice touch. But if I’m going to find a way to forgive you, I’ll need ice cream.”

~~~~~

Zoey needed the time alone in her car to think. She left them at the table to pay while she headed to the shop early to clear her head.

It unfortunately all made sense.

It was fucked, but it made sense.

And they had feelings for her.

Zoey didn’t feel connected to her feelings at all. She felt numb and dazed. She’d been in ten feet of fog for months and now the fog had lifted.

Zoey saw them pull into a spot across the parking lot. She couldn’t help but watch as Mira said something reassuring to Rumi, her hands on Rumi’s shoulders. Rumi nodded slowly, finally saying something quick and turning her mouth up even though her eyes were still scared and sad.

Then Mira leaned in, and they kissed.

Zoey sucked breath in at the sight. It was the most confirmation she’d seen of them actually being together. Her stomach dropped like she was being dropped on a roller coaster. The kiss couldn’t have lasted more than a couple seconds but it felt like time slowed to a snail’s pace. Zoey’s heart was beating loud and slow in her ears.

Zoey didn’t get out of her car until they did. They both jumped in surprise at her presence across the lot. The timing was too precise. Zoey had seen them.

Instead of walking to the shop, Zoey walked to them.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” Zoey asked Rumi.

“Y-yes,” Rumi said, hardening her resolve and nodding.

“And you?” Zoey didn’t need to ask Mira. She could see the answer in Mira’s eyes. Mira nodded.

“Hmm,” Zoey said, with a 100 yard stare between them. Then she turned and walked towards the shop.

Rumi and Mira knew how Zoey felt about ice cream. She liked high quality but affordable ice cream, usually from Rite Aid. But they needed to sit for this so they went to one of those fancier places with too many options and a seating area.

It wasn’t long until they were back to sitting across from each other.

”What kind did you get?” Zoey asked Mira, eyeing the neon yellow.

”Pineapple Sherbet. My favorite.” Mira said, cautious of Zoey’s attention.

Zoey laughed. “Your favorite ice cream isn’t even really ice cream? And it’s pineapple?” Zoey popped a spoonful of hers into her mouth before finishing. “You’re weird.”

Mira and Rumi raised their eyebrows.

”Oh I’m weird?” Mira said, a wicked grin finally spreading on her face. “At least I don’t have the taste buds of a four year old. What is that, birthday cake and cotton candy?”

Zoey stuck out her dark purple tongue at Mira, which caused Rumi to bust up laughing.

”What, you want in on this?” Mira snapped at Rumi, grin still playful. “What did you get?”

”Mint chocolate chip and cookie dough.”

Mira and Zoey looked at each other before turning back to Rumi.

”Totally respectable choice.”

”Absolutely, classics.”

Rumi pouted. “I don’t get to be teased for my ice cream choices?”

Zoey laughed. “Make weirder choices next time!”

”Can I try yours?” Rumi asked Zoey.

Zoey nodded. Zoey raised her spoon in Mira’s direction, and Mira nodded.

Zoey closed her eyes around the bite of Pineapple Sherbet.

”Oh, okay. I see it now. I respect it.” Zoey said, smiling. She opened one eye to see Mira smiling earnestly. Then she looked at Rumi whose entire face was puckered like she’d just sucked on a lemon.

”This just tastes like sugar and regret. And sticky hands at a birthday party. How is this your choice,” Rumi asked, faking pain as she lapped at the roof of her mouth.

Zoey and Mira cackled together at Rumi.

”It’s not always my choice,” Zoey said. “I choose whatever calls to me that day.”

Mira nodded. “It’s like a tarot or tea leaves. What will the ice cream tell us today?”

Rumi got still like she often did in thought. “Why did these call to you?”

Zoey frowned a moment. “I’d never really thought of it like that before.” She said, looking down at her pink, blue, and purple mess in a cup.

She actually considered before answering.

”I think I wanted to be reminded of a simpler time. Someplace fun and full of friends.”

Rumi and Mira looked at each other.

“Zoey, if you want to go back to being friends we will understand.” Rumi said.

”It might take us a while but we can get over our feelings. We could find our way back.” Mira said.

Zoey shook her head, but didn’t say more. Instead she took another bite of her ice cream and then pointed out— “Mira you didn’t try Rumi’s. You didn’t complete the circle.”

Mira shrugged. “I’m not a mint guy.”

”What?” Zoey asked, mouth popping open.

”I know, isn’t it criminal?” Rumi said.

”Red flag,” Zoey said, faking a judgmental side eye.

”Divorce,” Rumi added, then froze a little. Was it too soon?

”Oh, divorce for sure.” Zoey agreed, making Rumi smile and then smiling herself.

”What? C’mon! I always thought I’d get divorced for doing something stupid, not liking mint.” Mira said in protest.

They all smiled.

Zoey couldn’t help but feel like things were as they had been before. Their chemistry and humor and the way they made space for her.

Rumi and Mira dropped their smiles when they saw the look in Zoey’s eyes. Then they smiled again, as if to agree.

When their cups were empty they tossed them and started walking slowly to Zoey’s car. It wasn’t a discussion, just habit. Rumi and Mira walking Zoey to her car like always.

Zoey turned to unlock her car and put her bag inside. For a moment it looked like she might drive off without a proper goodbye.

She didn’t though. She turned and stepped away from the car and towards the patiently waiting Rumi and Mira.

Zoey could feel the way the ball was in her court. Whatever she wanted, Mira and Rumi would accommodate. They would do anything, Zoey just had to say the word.

They failed to hide the look in their eyes though. The look that desperately wanted her in their lives again, making divorce jokes and rapping and helping support students together.

Without preamble, Zoey looped a hand into Rumi’s and interlocked their fingers with a soft squeeze. Rumi let out a barely audible gasp and then a sigh of relief. Then Zoey laid a hand palm up in front of Mira, and Mira released a hand from their usual spot in her pockets to hold Zoey’s hand too.

“I— I can’t do more than this right now. There’s still a lot I’m processing.” Zoey said, looking at their hands together, feeling the cool of Rumi’s palm and the hot of Mira’s. “But I missed you both so much.”

“Is a hug okay?” Mira asked.

Zoey nodded, and stumbled back as both women pressed their bodies into her, squeezing tight like they never wanted to let her go.

Chapter Text

Mira taking things slow looked like the tiniest of touches.

A hand on Zoey’s lower back. The toe of her shoe touching Zoey’s under a table. An effortless arm over the back of a booth, their bodies spaced apart but her fingertips grazing the top of Zoey’s shoulder.

Zoey’d experienced the severity of Mira’s flirting before, so she could respect the restraint these small gestures held. And yet, they felt effortless. Normal. Like they had been destined to be gravitating one another.

Rumi’s taking things slow felt like things not moving at all. 

Too slow, a full stop. Everytime Mira touched Zoey, Zoey’s eyes would go to Rumi’s. There was always a smile, a softness to her look that confirmed that she wanted Mira touching Zoey. There was also something else, something that made Rumi’s eyes darken and her hands slowly close into fists.

Zoey was trying not to fall into past patterns. She kept her office with Dick because space was helpful and they didn’t want to alert Celine to any changes. 

She also was requiring herself to continue making friends. She started going to Lucky’s after work with the faculty from the office next door, an anthropology professor named Eugene and a sociology professor named Frankie Jo. They laughed at how ridiculous the young students were and sat at the same high top every day feeling superior.

Every week she committed herself to emptying one box of her things.

The rest of her time was spent with Mira and Rumi. Not always together, either. Sometimes it was boba with Mira when Rumi was in lecture. Silent work in the library with Rumi when Mira needed the office to work on her newest article in some journal of gender trans-ascension or something Zoey didn’t fully comprehend. Then together they’d get dinner or watch a movie in an empty lecture hall.

It was unspoken that Zoey would be making the first move. The acceptance of Mira’s slight advances was confirmation that there was hope Zoey still wanted to reciprocate feelings, but they were going to wait until she was ready.

Zoey admitted to herself that it was a little petty that she wanted to make the girls sweat a little. She didn’t want to allow them off the hook so quickly. She’d really been hurt, and even though she desperately wanted to get over it and finally be in their arms again, it was a triumph to herself to make the two women do a little work.

“Would you like to go to my student’s art show with me?” Mira asked Zoey when the three of them got up from the lunch table to head to their lectures. “It’s during our boba time.”

As always, Zoey looked to Rumi and saw that same excitement for Zoey mixed with something else towards herself.

“Ru do you want to do something special during our library time too?” Zoey asked. “I’m sure we could come up with something.”

Rumi smiled and nodded. She smiled like she had been picked first for kickball at recess.

Zoey turned back to Mira and nodded.

“See you then,” Mira said, winking to Rumi. The wink seemed to make Rumi stand a little straighter.

“Ru can I walk with you?” Zoey asked.

“Always,” Rumi said.

They fell into step. Zoey was going away from her lecture hall but she wanted more time with Rumi enough that she’d risk being late.

“How has it been, so far,” Zoey asked.

“How has what been?” Rumi responded.

“Us. Mira and you. You and I, me and Mira.”

“Oh,” Rumi said, taking a second like she always did in order to respond thoughtfully. “Good.”

Zoey had expected more than a one-word answer.

“Rumi,” Zoey said. She put a hand on Rumi’s arm and stopped her momentum. They looked at each other for a second. Zoey scanned her face for that indescribable thing she kept seeing, but this time it wasn’t there.

“I… I don’t know how to say how I’m feeling yet.” Rumi said.

“Is it negative? Do you need us to stop or slow down?” Zoey asked. Her voice was soft. She was inviting Rumi to be honest.

“No! Zoey, no.” Rumi said with a look of desperation. “Please don’t stop. I like where we’re headed.”

“Okay, that was much more clear.” Zoey said with a chuckle.

Since they were in passing period swarms of students were passing by, weaving around the moment Zoey and Rumi were sharing. Zoey looked around briefly and pulled Rumi into an empty classroom.

“I don’t want to make you late,” Zoey said. “Will you promise to tell me what’s going on when you figure out how you’re feeling?”

Zoey stepped closer to Rumi. Rumi didn’t step away but Zoey did notice her rock back onto her heels.

Rumi nodded.

“Can I hug you?” Zoey asked.

Rumi nodded again and blushed.

Zoey went in and looped her arms around Rumi’s waist. She pulled Rumi in so that her head rested softly on Rumi’s shoulder. They sat in the intimacy for a long five seconds before breaking. Zoey grabbed and squeezed Rumi’s hand as they parted.

“Have a good class,” Rumi said, the top of her cheeks a dusty rose.

Zoey smiled and nodded, then winked since she couldn’t help herself. The dusty rose got deeper, and Zoey’s smile got wider.

Then she left.

~~~~~

When Zoey arrived at their usual spot, Mira already had their boba orders in hand.

Zoey smiled and accepted the mango milk tea with pearls, giving it a sip.

“This is almost as sweet as you are,” Zoey said.

Mira laughed her deep laugh that made Zoey’s heart grow. Zoey started to follow Mira towards the art building.

“Knowing your taste that means I’ll definitely give you a cavity,” Mira said.

“You can have a cavity,” Zoey said, side eyeing Mira while sucking sweetly on her straw.

Mira stopped walking for a moment. Zoey kept walking, letting her smugness swing her hips a little more to make it worse for Mira.

Mira defrosted and caught up. “Did you just… make a sexual innuendo using a joke about dental work and the word ‘cavity’?”

Zoey turned so she was walking backwards with a light skip so she could see the look on Mira’s face. “Maybe.”

“You’re trouble,” Mira said, remnants of the look of shock still on her face. It was slowly being replaced by a look of fondness.

Mira reached a long arm out and pulled Zoey back to her side by the shoulder, turning her facing forward just in time to see the pole she was definitely almost going to run into. Then Mira pulled her hand off like Zoey’s skin was hot lava.

“Who are we going to see?” Zoey asked.

“It’s this girl Evelyn. She took my Gender Studies 101 class last semester.”

“I didn’t know you taught a 101 class,” Zoey said, watching Mira’s face.

“It was something my mentor suggested before he retired. Teach a freshman class once a year to stay present in the incoming generation of students.”

“Your mentor sounds like he knew what he was talking about,” Zoey said. “First the improv class, now the intro program.”

“He… yeah, he did.” Mira said with a small smile.

“Did he also tell you to go to every student you’ve ever had’s art show?” Zoey asked with a slight tease.

Mira laughed again.

“No, he actually probably wouldn’t approve of me knowing my students this personally. Especially the freshmen.” 

Since they’d reached the gallery, Zoey tossed their finished teas and Mira held the door open for Zoey.

The studio was as one could expect— a series of giant white rooms all with an open floor plan, some walls standing as dividers of spaces without doors. There were various people there talking in front of pieces. They must be the artists. Zoey gathered that it was probably a show for an entire class, since the art styles changed with every piece, though the whole class wasn’t in attendance to speak about their pieces.

They both stopped in front of the wall text.

Shadows

Mr. Hagopian’s Art 201: Art Interpretations class invites you to reflect on the you beneath your shoe. Are we our truest selves in the light or in the dark? Are we more lonely when our shadow is no longer with us? Students were instructed to use any artistic media they desired to represent their shadow.

Even though they had been laughing moments prior, both Mira and Zoey were appropriately calm now. They read silently, then Zoey followed when Mira walked to the left of the wall and followed the natural direction of the exhibit.

They didn’t exchange words while they reviewed the art either. They just stood in comfortable proximity while they cocked their heads at different pieces.

The first piece was what Zoey would expect from a show like this. Charcoal on paper, a small person and a giant, looming, dark shadow.

As the room continued, pieces started to vary in style and approach. There was a piece that was almost six feet tall and rectangular with faces of various expressions made out of macaroni glued onto the canvas. There was a stop motion video of photos of people’s shadows. Zoey was pretty sure the photos had been taken in the quad. There was also a cd player with headphones where someone used a light sensor to make their shadow into music. Mira held one out turned headphone to her ear and Zoey held one to hers. They would have walked away from the abhorrent music sooner if they hadn’t enjoyed the intimacy that sharing was welcoming.

Zoey went ahead of Mira as she got stuck looking at a particularly confusing Pollock-esque painting.

She searched the room, wondering which piece was from Evelyn. Surely Mira would have said, had they seen it already. No one had Evelyn as their name on the info plate so far.

Zoey approached a turned off tv rotated so it was taller than it was wide. For a second she felt sad for whichever student whose art must have had a technical breakdown and therefore wasn't showing on the screen. However, that feeling left when she walked past the screen. The tv hadn’t been off, it had been blank. When she walked past the screen it came to life. Zoey stopped in front of it, trying to figure out what was going on. Then she spotted the webcam at the top of the tv.

The tv was still dark except for the purple filled-in outline of a person. As Zoey moved, so did the person. The only thing was, it wasn’t her outline. This person was significantly taller and bigger than her, like a mountain of a man. As she moved and turned so did the figure.

Zoey gasped as a smaller ‘shadow’ of a light blue light entered the screen.

“This is pretty cool, isn’t it?” Mira said, raising her arms and watching the small blue figure mimic her movement.

“It must… know how tall we are and pick a different pre-set person?” Zoey said, her mouth still hung in awe. “I wonder how many there are stored.”

“There’s 13 random, a couple people are coded preset,” a voice called. Zoey and Mira turned. This student was tall and thin like Mira and looked like a typical engineering student would: khaki pants, black sneakers, a hoodie zipped to where their polo sat under their collar. Their straight hair was just to their chin where a patch of stubble sat.

Zoey smiled up to them. “It’s incredible,” she said, turning back to the screen. “Very innovative.”

“Thanks for coming, Mira.” The student said, and Zoey turned back. 

Despite the little touches that Mira gave Zoey, Mira was not a physically affectionate person with anyone else. She didn’t even touch Rumi the way she dared to touch Zoey. But here she was, embracing a student for a long thirty seconds. It was of additional interest that Mira and this student were exactly the same height, allowing them to fit together like twins.

“Zoey,” Mira said, pulling away from the student but keeping a hand on their shoulder. “This is Evelyn. She’s on my shit list for not telling me about her art show.”

Luckily Zoey had put two and two together before the hug ended so there was no trace of surprise on her face. “Evelyn it’s so nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand to shake. “Mira’s said nice things about you, despite what she would have you think.”

Evelyn met Zoey’s hand with hers.

“Wow your hands are so soft,” Zoey said. “I’m envious.”

Evelyn blushed and tucked hair behind her ear before placing her hand back in her hoodie pocket.

“I can’t believe I had to hear about this from Nolan,” Mira continued. “This piece is incredible.”

“I— I didn’t know if you’d remember—“ Evelyn began, her voice losing its higher pitch at the end.

“I get that. Professors have a lot of students. I remembered you.” Mira said.

Her attention was so soft. Evelyn looked like a baby deer, fresh and easily spooked. Zoey studied how Mira read Evelyn’s body language and removed her usual sharpness in her voice. She looked at Evelyn like she was the only person that mattered on this Earth.

Evelyn smiled. “Look,” she said, and then walked into the frame on the screen. Evelyn’s outline was pink. Unlike the significant differences in body shape and size that Mira and Zoey had seen in their shadows, Evelyn’s looked like her same height with some obvious changes.

“Wow, your shadow looks like Mira,” Zoey whispered.

“I’d be so lucky,” Mira said.

Zoey could feel the way Evelyn lit up. Her joy at the compliments vibrated off of her body.

An obnoxious laugh coming from elsewhere in the gallery made Mira’s ears perk up. Zoey watched as Mira turned and immediately her softness disappeared and the hardest version of herself replaced it. The only time Zoey had seen it in action was at the budget meeting with the Dean.

“Zoey,” Mira whispered. “Go see the rest of the gallery.”

Zoey took the note and sent a smile towards Evelyn before walking away from them both and towards the corner of the room.

Zoey watched a man approach Mira and shake her hand. The man looked at Mira with familiarity and joviality that Mira did not mirror back. Anyone who didn’t know Mira as intimately as Zoey did would have seen a perfectly professional interaction between two professors. What Zoey saw was Mira using her demeanor and body to block this man from getting any closer to Evelyn.

The group turned and looked at Evelyn’s art. Zoey chuckled to herself that the digital shadow of this man was a puke colored green. It must have been one of Evelyn’s pre-set ones like her own, because every time the man dipped off the screen he came back as the same bile-colored character.

Zoey didn’t have to hear them to know what was going on. Mira only smiled when she was talking about Evelyn. When the man talked she put the walls back up, happy to interject to respectfully challenge the man or move his conversation in a different direction.

Zoey couldn’t help but notice her own breath catch while watching Mira. She was so hot when she was being protective. The way her arm muscles flexed when her arms were crossed, how she stood her full height and puffed her chest out slightly. The way she gave the tiniest shift to a smile when someone behaved and then the coldest nothing for anything else. Not enough to bring attention to Evelyn but enough to subtly encourage the person talking to Mira to behave.

Zoey found the internal will to break her focus on Mira to focus on Evelyn. She had a performative smile on, but every couple of words she would wince. It was small and well hidden, but Zoey knew what she was looking for.

This professor was bragging about himself. When he would switch to brag about Evelyn he was doing it in a way that hurt her.

There was a piece on the wall by Zoey called Shadow of Time featuring a clock with additional hands. Zoey could not understand what the art was about but it did prompt her to look at her phone. Mira had to get to her lecture soon, and Zoey would be off to the library.

Zoey walked closer to the group, trying to catch Mira’s eye to give her the heads up.

“I keep telling him if he was a little snappier dresser maybe he’d be able to get some girls to come check out his piece,” The other professor said, confirming what Zoey expected was going on.

Mira’s eyes flashed to her, a warning glare to not come any closer. Zoey was able to point to her naked wrist and Mira’s eyes shifted slightly to one of acknowledgment before focusing back on the teacher.

Zoey walked away and to the front of the gallery. She saw Mira finish the conversation with a nod of her head towards the fellow faculty member. He lingered for a second before finally getting the hint and walking away.

Mira turned back to Evelyn, put two hands on Evelyn’s shoulders, and then raised one palm in front of her in order to finish whatever point she was making, just like when she was reassuring Rumi outside her office. Evelyn slowly seemed to get color back in her face.

Mira was late to lecture. Zoey knew she knew it and didn’t care. Her priority was still Evelyn.

Mira waited for a nod before pulling Evelyn in for a final hug. Even with Mira’s gentleness, a spring of tears had appeared on Evelyn’s face. Mira pulled away and said something reassuring that made Evelyn smile and nod, then she broke away and walked towards Zoey.

Passing period had concluded so the halls were empty other than stragglers.

“How’s Evelyn?” Zoey asked.

“Held together with sticks and spit,” Mira said. “But she’s getting stronger. Last time I saw her she had come out to me. Her name and pronoun used to make her blush.”

“Now she smiled every time you got it right,” Zoey nodded.

“And winced every time that fucker got it wrong.” Mira said. “She’s not out to him, but boy he knows how to make someone uncomfortable through sexism.”

“I couldn’t hear but I could tell,” Zoey said, and Mira huffed a laugh.

“It’s for the best you couldn’t hear,” Mira said. “It always confuses me when art professors are so close-minded.”

They’d reached the hallway of Mira’s classroom. The hallway was quiet and motionless. Before Mira could reach for her door Zoey laced her fingers into a hand of Mira’s for the first time since ice cream.

Mira halted and turned as Zoey pressed the back of Mira’s hand to her lips.

“You’re…” Zoey sighed, words failing her. She hoped her expression would convey all the things Zoey had felt for Mira in the past hour. “Have a good class.”

Mira took one step towards Zoey when the door opened and Zoey dropped Mira’s hand.

Bobby poked his head out. “Fucking finally, I was about to send out a search warrant.” Mira’s face flashed red hot in desperate anger of the interruption but it melted quick enough that Bobby didn’t see it when she turned.

“Oh! Hi Zoey!” Bobby said. “And thank you!” Bobby stage whispered the last words with a cupped hand, finishing it with a wink. Zoey stalled for a second thinking it was about Zoey being with Mira and Rumi before realizing she hadn’t seen Bobby since Bobby and Abby had gotten together. This was a thank you for encouraging Abby. Then Bobby slid back into the classroom.

When Mira turned back to Zoey she was walking backwards away from Mira’s classroom. Mira actually frowned, looking a bit like a sad puppy.

“I’ll see you later,” Zoey called. “Go whip those grad students into shape.”

Mira smiled and blew a kiss, a ridiculous and perfect gesture.

Zoey mimed catching it and she pulled it to her chest with a final smile before turning to make her way towards the library.

Chapter Text

Never had Zoey ever been so relieved to have remembered to send a “I’m running late!” text.

As she walked towards the library she pulled out her phone. Then she stopped, looking up and around to orient herself, before taking a full about-face turn and heading away from the library.

Rumi was standing outside the auditorium when Zoey arrived.

“Ru I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—“

“It’s okay,” Rumi said, her smile warm and comforting. “It’s not a super formal thing, these are only dress rehearsals. We can pop in and out whenever.”

Zoey visibly relaxed as Rumi opened the door and lead her inside.

The theater was dark and cool. True to Rumi’s words, there were only a dozen or so people scattered across the theater in various places. There was a person standing in front of the front row, talking to the dancers.

“How did you learn about this?” Zoey whispered. They were far enough away from anyone that she probably could have used her full voice and not be heard.

“I have a friend in the dance department,” Rumi said. “I come whenever I can.”

Zoey went to ask a follow up question when the person in front clapped and the music started.

There were ten dancers, all young enough to read as undergraduates. This must be the opening number of whatever showcase this was since the dancers shifted every couple of eight counts to a different genre of dance — jazz, ballroom, modern, hip hop.

The director stopped the music.

“What kind of dance would you be?” Zoey whispered to Rumi. Rumi smiled and considered.

“Probably Jazz, you? Wait let me guess,” Rumi scanned Zoey’s face. “Hip hop?”

Zoey mocked shock. “Wow, to be known is to be loved.”

Even in the dimmed lights Zoey could see the pink on Rumi’s cheeks. Then Zoey saw the glimpse of that lingering thing in Rumi’s eyes before she turned back to look at the stage.

Zoey let the show distract them. They oooo’d and aaaahhhh’d at dancers throwing themselves off stage or leaping with incredible strength and height. After a couple dances Rumi had started to relax again. Zoey made a note not to say the ‘L’ word around Rumi even if it was about her loving turtles.

“If you could do a solo to any song what would it be,” Rumi asked, leaning towards Zoey but her eyes still on the stage.

Zoey hummed in thought. “Probably something by Kendrick. You?”

Rumi copied Zoey’s hum. “Probably something singer-songwriter, like… Sara Bareilles?”

Zoey smiled. “Great choice. Jazz solo to She Used to Be Mine? I’m going to cry just thinking about it.”

Rumi turned to Zoey, as if to check if she really was. Zoey gave a knowing smile for a second before looking back to the stage.

“Is that what kind of music you listen to?” Zoey asked.

“Some. I listen to Pop mostly, and some Country. Like Dolly not like ‘drive a boat bring me a beer’ country,” Rumi said, still looking at Zoey.

Zoey laughed her full laugh for a second before pulling it back down to appropriate volume. Rumi's smile widened.

“Do you— what do you listen to?” Rumi asked.

“I actually listen to everything. Rap, punk, electroswing, jazz house.” Zoey said. “I think I’m just a fan of music generally.”

“Adding jazz house concert to the future dates list, noted.” Rumi said. The comment caught Zoey so off guard she didn’t stop herself snapping her head to look at Rumi. She regretted it instantly, Rumi looking like a deer in headlights.

“I’d like that, a concert date with you,” Zoey said. She could see ‘the look’ returning so Zoey looked back to the dancers before whatever emotion Rumi was feeling took root. She could hear Rumi’s smile though.

They watched more, sinking more comfortably into their cushioned seats. Zoey put her right arm on the armrest closest to Rumi but left her left arm in her lap. Rumi mirrored her, both of their arms parallel. Zoey hadn’t felt this much giddy hope since she was in high school.

As much as she wanted to effortlessly take Rumi’s hand, she waited.

It took two full songs before Rumi pointed her pinky finger and touched Zoey’s hand. Both Zoey and Rumi were focused on their hands now, though their heads still facing forward like they were pretending to be focused on the show. Zoey let her pinky finger straighten too, and she smiled as she watched Rumi’s pinky wrap around hers. After the next song Rumi took an inhale and finally scooped Zoey’s hand into hers.

Rumi’s hand was as cool as it had been when Zoey grabbed it at the ice cream shop, but her hand quickly warmed with Zoey’s heat. They adjusted and interlocked fingers, neither of them looking at each other still. Zoey rubbed her thumb over Rumi’s gently, and was delighted when she felt Rumi’s head on her shoulder in response.

Then the lights came up. Then Rumi pulled away.

Zoey’s heart sank, and her hand was missing the pressure of Rumi’s palm.

Rumi stood quickly and started to walk towards the exit before turning to Zoey. 

“C’mon Zo, let’s go for a walk.”

Zoey hid her downtrodden expression and smiled up at Rumi, who had somehow hardened herself when the lights revealed them for a split second.

They walked the campus. Unlike Mira, Rumi had gone to the university as an undergraduate so knew the lower campus enough to navigate without a map. Zoey followed as Rumi lead her through a maze of buildings and art structures and parking lots.

The only issue was the palpable silence.

“Was this how it was like with Jinu?” Zoey asked. She watched the visible wince at the name mixed with Rumi’s feet coming to a complete stop.

Rumi exhaled. “No, it wasn’t.” Rumi said. “He took the lead, sort of snuck up on me. I didn’t know he was interested in me until he was a moment away from kissing me.”

“Was that… did you want to kiss him back?” Zoey asked.

“Yes,” Rumi said with a breathy laugh. “The feelings I had for him were so confusing. My feelings for Mira were so comfortable and easy. My feelings for Jinu felt hot and dangerous.”

“Did it scare you?” Zoey asked. She was starting to see a little more of the picture.

Rumi started walking again.

“All my feelings for people scare me. I’ve only ever felt feelings for three people. You’re the third.”

Zoey went through the Rolodex of dalliances she had enjoyed in her life. Not all of them came with feelings but most did. She didn’t know an exact number, but it was exponentially more than three. She loved the excitement of something new, the anticipation and the way her body felt awake and alive.

“So it’s… is it pleasant?” Zoey asked. There was no judgment in her voice.

“I wish it were,” Rumi said. “It should be. You know that thing about bowling being something I’m enjoying even if I’m not good at it? It’s like that.”

“I don’t think you’re ‘not good’ at having feelings,” Zoey said.

“No, I mean— my therapist is helping me work on just enjoying things. And I want to enjoy the feelings I have for you. I do enjoy them, sometimes. And then other times…”

Zoey nodded, letting the air sit heavy between them as they walked.

“I’m sorry Zoey, I wish—“

Zoey stopped walking and put a soft hand on Rumi’s arm.

“I’m in no rush,” Zoey said. “And your relationship with Jinu, well, it seems like it was very intense and then he left and there were consequences. That’d do a number on me too.”

Rumi looked up from her shoes. Zoey’s eyes were focused but warm, reassuring Rumi she saw the full picture of the situation and was not going anywhere.

Rumi’s eyes flicked to Zoey’s lips.

Then she turned and kept walking.

“Thank you.” Rumi said after they had walked in another minute of silence.

“Do you want me to lead more, or would it be better for you to lead when you’re ready?”

Rumi peered at Zoey from the side of her eyes.

“I… I can. It’s good for me.” Rumi said. “Uh… shared interests. That’s what people talk about, right?”

Zoey laughed brightly. “Yes, what are our shared interests?”

“Mira,” Rumi said. “And our students.”

Zoey nodded and smiled. “Do you want to talk about Mira?”

Even saying Mira’s name made Rumi’s shoulders descend a couple inches from her ears.

“Hmmm, okay,” Rumi said. “She’s really cute in the morning. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

Zoey blushed at the thought of seeing Mira when she woke up, and what it implied.

“Cute how?” Zoey asked, wanting any more context like begging for a spoiler for a movie.

“I’m tempted to just let you experience it.” Rumi said.

Zoey playfully grabbed Rumi’s arm and made her eyes big and puffed out her bottom lip. She was happy Rumi didn’t shirk away.

Rumi laughed, shaking her head at Zoey’s ridiculousness.

“Do you have any kids in your life?” Rumi asked. “Like babies.”

Zoey raised an eyebrow in question but nodded. “I babysat my baby cousins a lot.”

“You know how they are when they first wake up in the morning or after a nap?”

Zoey’s eyebrows went up.

“Happy baby time?” Zoey whispered wide-eyed.

Rumi nodded slow and sweet, her smile widening as Zoey’s did.

“Wow,” Zoey whispered to herself, knowing her imagination wasn’t doing it justice.

“What babies do you have in your life?” Zoey asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“My cousin Tamara, Dick’s eldest, has a two year old,” Rumi said. “She likes me more than Mira, and that never happens with babies.”

Zoey’s heart was overloaded with the new information. Rumi expecting Zoey to see what Mira looks like at the start of a new day. Rumi being smug to be chosen by a kid. Mira being picked by children usually. Mira when she’s first woken up, smile big and soft…

“I want to kiss you,” Zoey said.

They’d both stopped walking at the edge of a parking lot, and Zoey turned to face her. Rumi looked still as stone, her face mixed with confusion and excitement and fear.

“I’m not going to,” Zoey said. “But I want you to know that I want to. Ball’s in your court.”

Rumi took a half a step forward, panic still set in her eyes. Zoey put a hand up in front of her chest and stopped her.

“Don’t kiss me because I want you to.” Zoey said. “Kiss me when you’re ready.”

The focused expression Rumi got when studying for a lecture took over for the look of panic. The permission had been helpful. Rumi nodded.

Chapter Text

Two weeks had passed and Rumi still hadn’t kissed her. The only things keeping Zoey alive were all the little other changes Rumi was making. The way she would linger closer to Zoey and a step farther from Mira. The way she would hold Zoey’s pinky in hers for the stretch of the walk to the parking lot that was most secluded. The way she remembered every detail of Zoey’s life that she shared.

It was progress.

Mira, on the other hand, was standing farther from Zoey on purpose. Mira practically talked to Zoey through Rumi. It was uncomfortable, but not rude. Anytime they did look at each other they both blushed. When they talked to each other it was curt and to the point because otherwise they would start flirting and flirting made it harder. They really felt it when Zoey started visiting their office more. During the five gruesome minutes that Rumi would leave the office for the restroom both of their internal temperatures would rise by 15 degrees. One time Zoey observed Mira actually sitting in her chair and white knuckling her desk until Rumi got back, like it was her only life preserver and she was lost at sea. Zoey didn’t even know Mira had a chair.

None of this was a problem because Zoey felt the exact same way. Both about wanting to climb Mira like a tree and also about wanting to wait.

“What do you mean you still aren’t unpacked,” Rumi asked. “Haven’t you been here almost a year?”

Mira laughed. “Babe, usually unpacking takes a long time.”

“Like a year long?”

“Or longer, it took me like two years.”

Rumi huffed. “How is that possible, you had like nothing after estranging your parents.”

Rumi’s eyes went wide as she realized what she said and immediately turned from her work to rectify her mistake. “Mi—“

Rumi couldn’t get the whole name out because Mira had started laughing.

“Exactly!” Mira said. “Unpacking is fucking hard. The only reason you moving in was easier is because we had both of us to do it.”

Zoey laughed at the ridiculousness of them both. It was the same bickering she’d been so alarmed at when she’d first moved into the office. Now here they were, Zoey visiting their office and watching them with such affection. Everything was so different now.

“Okay!” Rumi said, clapping her hands together. “That settles it. We will help you unpack.”

Mira and Zoey shared a surprised look.

“Ru, that’s a very intimate thing to do, we’d be going through all of her stuff.” Mira said. “And we haven’t even seen her place.”

“Well if our relationship is going anywhere we would probably see her stuff and place sometime,” Rumi said.

Zoey’s mouth fell open at the brashness of Rumi. Mira smiled wickedly at it.

“Relationship, huh?” Mira said. Rumi started to backpedal, and Mira launched herself across the room until she had Rumi’s chin pinched between her fingers.

“I… I mean… yes. Relationship. We both like Zoey, Zoey seems to like us. That’s the direction it’s going.”

Zoey watched Rumi turn from a liquid to a solid before her eyes, and it seemed to drive Mira wild.

She crushed a kiss to Rumi’s lips and broke it with a loud pop.

Then she turned to Zoey.

“What do you think, Zo?” Mira asked, the top of her chest a little pink. “Let us help you unpack?”

Zoey would struggle to say no to the double-focused attention even if they were asking her to jump off a cliff.

“Sure, sounds fun,” Zoey said, then laughed as both of the women struck a different victory pose. What dorks, Zoey thought with a laugh.

~~~~~

Zoey had beaten them to her place. She’d quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt before sort of tidying the boxes and making her bed. As the minutes clicked on she started to worry they’d gotten lost.

Finally there was a rap at the door. Zoey opened to reveal both women standing and smiling, Rumi with a box of wine in her hand and Mira with a bag of groceries.

“I made the assumption that you have a working stove,” Mira said.

“I hope so,” Zoey said, laughing at Mira’s look of exasperation. “We’ll have to unload the kitchen boxes first I guess.”

They exchanged short hugs that lit up all of their bodies before busying themselves with the kitchen boxes. 

Zoey’s kitchen was tiny. It was not much wider than four feet by four feet and could not hold all three of them. Zoey sat on the countertop in the corner and Rumi stood outside the kitchen using Zoey’s folding table as her workspace. Mira stood in the middle, already claiming the domain.

Rumi opened the boxes and unloaded them, Mira washed every dish and utensil, and Zoey chose where things would live. Occasionally Rumi would suggest a more efficient living space for an item, but Zoey could tell she was respectfully restraining herself quite a bit.

It only took 30 minutes before all of the boxes were finally empty, and Zoey could actually see all of her countertops for the first time since she toured the unit.

“Okay, out now,” Mira said, pulling dry ingredients out of the grocery bag. Zoey grabbed a couple wine glasses and poured three glasses before she and Rumi headed to the bedroom to start working the boxes in there. Zoey had to really control her urge to slap Mira’s ass on the way out the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you manage to make yourself look so cute and you haven’t hung a single piece of clothing up,” Rumi said.

“Ugh I know, I know,” Zoey said, even though her smile was still present.

“Hey,” Rumi got up from the box she was hunched over and came within a step of Zoey. “That was a compliment, not a judgment.”

Rumi smiled and tucked a stray hair behind Zoey’s ear. This time it was Zoey who faltered.

“I—“

Rumi’s eyes sparkled with something wicked as she stepped away and back to her box. Zoey took some deep breaths. Had Rumi just… teased her? It was a baby tease, the tease of physical closeness, but still.

Zoey found her balance again and continued unloading clothes onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Rumi said.

“What?” Zoey asked.

“These scissors are so dull they’re actually dangerous. Do you have any more?”

“Oh, uh…” Zoey thought. “I know I have an office box somewhere…”

Rumi smirked. “Don’t worry about it, we will find some eventually.”

“No, wait, I think there’s some in the kitchen,” Zoey said, moving towards the door.

“If they’re kitchen shears don’t let Mira see you. She’s real particular about what gets cut with kitchen shears.” Rumi said, not looking up from her box.

Zoey wasn’t prepared to see Mira cooking. Her hair was up in a high bun. The bun was wide from how much hair it held. Mira had on an apron, an actual fucking apron. She was humming to herself as she tossed a salad and took a taste before adding other elements.

Zoey caught Mira’s eye and watched Mira go from complete focus to a look of invitation.

“Hi,” she said. “Taste this.”

She held a fork full of salad out to Zoey. Zoey opened her mouth and took the fork full she was fed. Mira looked away and towards her work.

Mira frowned down at the dressing she had made in the bowl. Zoey had never seen dressing not in a bottle.

“I think it might need more lemon, what do you think?” Mira asked.

“Salt,” was all Zoey could manage. Mira smiled down at the greens and nodded.

“Good call,” Mira said.

Zoey slid behind Mira and fetched the scissors from the drawer she had just minutes ago determined was their home. She slipped them into her back pocket before Mira could notice. Then she went to head back out of the kitchen right as Mira reached for the fridge across from where she’d been prepping.

They both froze. Zoey was trapped under Mira’s arm. For a moment they shared more eye contact than they’d allowed themself in weeks.

It was equally Zoey and Mira’s movements that allowed their bodies to be pressed fully together. Zoey felt every inch of her front meet Mira’s. She felt Mira’s hip bones pressing into her stomach. Mira’s face was arched down until their lips were a mere centimeter apart.

They moved so slowly, Zoey wrapping her arms around Mira’s waist and back and Mira moving her right hand to cup Zoey’s face and the other to hold tight to her hip.

They could feel each other’s breath on their faces. They didn’t dare make any more eye contact, all their focus was on the others’ lips.

In the last second Zoey hesitated.

“No,” Zoey said finally. “Rumi first.”

Zoey didn’t know where the strength came from after the weeks of anticipation, but she was glad she found it. Mira stepped back and nodded.

Zoey wanted to say more, say that they would have their own relationship outside of Rumi too, that Zoey wanted Mira so bad, that Zoey thought the minute they started it would be so all-consuming she was afraid of how they would handle themselves for Rumi.

She didn’t need to say all of that though. Mira’s hands met the counter top and her knuckles were white where they gripped the tile. Her face though— her face was relieved. It was full of understanding and the closest to pure love Zoey had seen of either of them. Mira knew Rumi, and knew exactly why Zoey did what she did.

Zoey scurried away to the bedroom but stopped just before the closed door to let her heart finish pounding and her smile from the excitement fade a little.

Finally Zoey opened the door and—

Rumi yelped as she dropped what had been in her hand back into the box. Her face was a bright red and she looked like she was searching for a good excuse and failing.

“I— I’m sorry, this box— I should have—“

Zoey looked at the box in question and immediately figured out what she was talking about.

It was too much. Zoey keeled over in laughter, her laugh getting bigger and louder and Rumi’s face getting redder.

Finally Mira entered the doorway behind Zoey and looked to Rumi.

“Did you break her?” Mira asked.

“No! I— I just—“

“Rumi… found… my…” Zoey managed between gasps for air. “sex… toys!”

Mira laughed too, and Rumi’s steamed face made her laugh louder. Finally it broke Rumi, and all three of them were laughing.

“Did you want to see, Mir?” Rumi said, weaponizing her fluster.

“Nah, I’ll find out about them soon enough,” Mira responded, taking the affectionate swat at her shin by Zoey who was still on the ground. Zoey knew the real reason was probably that Mira couldn’t handle seeing the sex toys right now given what had just taken place in the kitchen.

“Okay kids, soups on,” Mira said, heading back to the kitchen.

Zoey and Rumi both composed themselves.

“I’m sorry—“ Rumi tried.

“Don’t be,” Zoey said. “I would have done the same thing.”

Rumi relaxed a little, sighing out the excess energy.

“I do want to know if it gave you ideas,” Zoey said with a wag of her eyebrows. Rumi seized back up and Zoey laughed, payback for Rumi’s tease earlier.

They both managed to get up and get themselves to the kitchen.

Mira had moved the boxes off the table and found a table cloth. She’d even set the table. In the center of the table was some sort of casserole and the salad. The casserole sat on a couple layers of cardboard, Mira’s solution to not being able to find a trivet.

“It’s not much,” Mira said, finally taking her apron off.

Zoey looped her arms gently around Mira’s waist and pulled her into a hug from the side.

“I’ve never had a home cooked meal at my place before.” Zoey said. “It’s perfect.”

Mira got quiet and still, this time not from pure horniness or restraint but from appreciation of the compliment. Then Zoey released her and they all sat.

“Thank you both,” Zoey said, raising a glass. “To us!”

“To us!” The other two mimicked before clinking their glasses and drinking.

“We should have a name for us,” Rumi said.

“Gosh first we’re a relationship now we’re getting named?” Mira said, “What’s next, a ring for Zoey?”

Zoey laughed, but Rumi didn’t.

“Zoey could have a ring if she wanted one day,” Rumi snapped back at Mira.

Zoey’s face went white.

“Okay Ru, gotta settle down, my little heart can’t take it,” Zoey said, forcing herself to breathe.

Mira and Rumi finished their spat with a smile, both loving the effect they had on their third member.

The food was delicious, of course. A level of deliciousness that made Zoey self-conscious of the life of takeout she had been living. But now she had them.

“Just wait until I’m back in my own kitchen,” Mira said. “Then you’re really in for it.”

Zoey laughed. “I don’t think that can happen for a while,” she said. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Both Mira and Rumi smiled at the thought. When they were on campus generally or in the office it always felt like even though they were alone they were performing or had to be ready to back away from their tension at any minute. Even at the Wicked Wolf they were known. Here, in Zoey’s apartment, for the first time all three of them could show each other ample affection with no need to back down.

“Maybe you shouldn’t control yourselves,” Rumi said, looking at her casserole. “You both have been so wound tight for weeks now.”

Mira and Zoey looked to each other before looking back to Rumi.

“Ru—“ Zoey said.

Mira took Rumi’s hand. Zoey put her hand out and waited for Rumi to put down her fork and give Zoey her other.

“Babe, we just wanted you to set the pace,” Mira said. “This is new to us too, we want to be respectful and considerate.”

“Mira Hong,” Rumi said, voice serious. “You could be less considerate you know.”

“And you,” Rumi said, turning to Zoey. “You should kiss my wife when you want to kiss my wife. She wants you to kiss her.”

Zoey and Mira were quiet for a second. Zoey reached and took Mira’s free hand.

“I will say that I’ve been afraid of getting wrapped up in whatever will happen when Mira and I do kiss,” Zoey said. “I know what’s happened with new relationships in the past, it’s like the whole world doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t want that to include you, Rumi.”

“The fact that you’d wait even a moment after we first shared we had feelings for each other shows that ignoring me won’t happen.” Rumi said.

“I still want to kiss you first,” Zoey said. “When you’re ready. I can wait.”

“Me too, I can wait too,” Mira said, finalizing the united front.

“But whyyyy,” Rumi said, breaking their hand hold. “What if I’m never ready? I don’t want to risk—“

“Look who’s acting out of fear now,” Mira said, picking up and pointing her fork at Rumi and then eating more of her salad.

“Ugh,” Rumi said like an obstinate teen. “She does this you know, she teaches lessons through patience. It’s infuriating. She’ll let you sit in some lesson that she’s figured out in like two minutes and wait until she can hit you when you least expect it.”

Zoey liked being inside their conflict. The intimacy and trust was palpable. Unlike their teasing, the way they actually addressed issues was tender and considerate.

“What are you worried about?” Zoey asked.

Rumi pushed food around her plate. “If you and Mira date that’s totally fine. The minute I get involved—“ 

Mira made a sound and Zoey stopped her by squeezing her hand.

“If I get involved and Celine catches wind it just feels like I’m opening all of us up to more drama. I’ve already hurt you by being afraid of what she would do and not just talking to you. We got over that. But Celine’s, well, she’s unpredictable.”

“Is Celine here?” Zoey asked.

Rumi shook her head.

“Why not kiss me here then? There’s no way she could know.” Zoey said. “This could be our place.”

The shake of her head was small. Mira’s anger was becoming noticeable. Zoey held tight to her hand and stroked the back of it with her thumb.

“Okay,” Zoey said. “Celine can’t take away how I feel about you though. That will be there whether we ever kiss or not.”

Zoey could see the space opening in Rumi’s chest. She saw how her soft words hit Rumi, how her words passed confidence from Zoey’s body straight to Rumi’s. Zoey could feel the physical effect it had on softening Mira too.

Rumi nodded.

After dinner they opened box after box in the living room and got to work. They started a shared playlist and would hum or dance a little as they moved about the room.

It was Mira that put on the song that made Rumi gasp with excitement. Mira looked to Zoey like, ‘Watch this.’

It was Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson. Rumi’s voice started soft and controlled. The notes hit Zoey’s ears like fresh fallen snow— light and beautiful and perfect. She put the items from her box down in order to sit back on her hands and take in the view. The music changed Rumi. It was like Zoey and Mira were no longer in the room. Rumi didn’t stop working, but did start using whatever was in her hand as a microphone. First it was an award for Zoey’s piece in a journal of Gerontology. Then it was a cup of pens. Then it was an empty vase.

By the first chorus Rumi had raised her volume and closed her eyes. Zoey looked to Mira to be like ‘whoa, what, how is she so talented’— but Rumi’s singing had a similar effect on Mira that the music had on Rumi. No one else existed but Rumi. Zoey was smitten for Mira being so smitten for Rumi being in this rare way.

The biggest shock was when the bridge hit. Mira harmonized with Rumi, providing more bass and framing every one of Rumi’s words. Rumi wasn’t surprised by this addition at all. They had obviously done this many, many times before.

Final chorus hit and Zoey joined in. Instead of a careful and skillful voice like the other two, Zoey let herself scream the words, making the other two snap out of their trances and laugh at her ridiculousness.

Then they joined her with their own screams. 

Zoey had never cared about her neighbors less.

~~~~~

Zoey had committed to unboxing one box a week and at the end of this one night there were no more boxes to unbox.

“Stay forever,” Zoey said, squeezing between both of them on the couch. They all were taking a much needed sit from all the work.

“I think if the three of us are going to stay forever anywhere it’ll be our house. There’s actually enough space for three people.” Mira said.

“Mira, propose to a girl that she moves in with you BEFORE you unbox all of her boxes.” Zoey said in an incredulous voice.

Mira chuckled and pulled her arm up and over Zoey until it rested on Rumi’s shoulder on the other side of her.

Rumi had been quiet since the song finished. It had been over an hour. She was still present and had reached over to interlock her fingers with Zoey’s when Zoey sat down on the couch. It was the first time Rumi’s physical affection had felt effortless.

Mira and Zoey shared some soft eye contact. The heat that was usually there when they looked at each other was warm instead of hot for the time being, and they were appreciating each other’s attention.

“We should go home,” Mira said finally when the heat started to rise again.

Zoey wanted to contest, wanted them to stay. But she knew that tonight had been a lot for all of them and she wanted to run a marathon with them, not a sprint.

Rumi nodded, squeezing Zoey’s hand before letting it go.

They all stood, lingering in the living room, a light transitional awkwardness setting in. Mira fetched the leftover items she brought for food prep and then brought Rumi her jacket and held it for her to put on. Zoey crossed her arms over her chest and followed both of her coworkers out to her front doorstep.

“Thank you for having us,” Mira said, a hand on Zoey’s shoulder and a thumb grazing her neck.

“Having you? You’re the one that cooked and helped me unpack my entire damn apartment.”

Zoey pulled Mira into a hug, pushing her body into Mira’s like they had been in the kitchen but this time out of appreciation instead of desire. Well, mostly out of appreciation. Then they separated and Mira stepped back.

“You’re worth it,” Rumi said. The first words she’d said in a long time.

Zoey turned to look at Rumi.

Rumi’s eyes didn’t have that thing anymore, that look of apprehension mixed with dread and fear. It didn’t have the nervousness that had slowly dissipated over the course of the several weeks since their confession. Her look was serious, and it was intense.

Rumi took her left hand and brought it to Zoey’s face.

“She’s not taking you from me too,” Rumi whispered, pulling Zoey closer.

“Are you—“ Zoey stopped when she saw Rumi’s nod. It was fast and eager and sure.

When their lips touched, Zoey focused on the physical sensations in order to calm her mind. Her mind felt akin to a speeding pinball trapped in a machine, clamoring with want and need and desperation and she knew those things would all overwhelm Rumi.

Zoey felt the tip of Rumi’s nose pressing beside hers. She felt Rumi’s soft lips, gliding gently over hers. She felt Rumi’s eyelashes on her cheek.

The kiss was long and definitely too short. When Rumi pulled away her eyes scanned Zoey’s face and watched as Zoey slowly opened her eyes, a dopey smile already spreading across her face.

Zoey’s stomach flipped when she saw Rumi’s face. There she was, the confident and self-assured Rumi that Zoey met in the office her first day. The suave Rumi that Zoey saw at bowling. The caring Rumi that picked her up off the floor after bumping into her in the hall.

Rumi smiled at her event, partly out of excitement with a twinge of smugness. Then she backed up and turned to pass Mira. Mira with her mouth still hung open in surprise.

Mira tracked Rumi with her eyes and then turned back to Zoey.

There was a thud when Zoey’s back hit her door. She felt like Mira was sucking her soul out through her mouth. Zoey got purchase on Mira’s back and squeezed for only a second before Mira broke the kiss and walked after her wife without looking back.

Zoey watched them both walk to their car and drive away before she allowed herself to squeal and do a happy dance. She smiled and let her heart rate come back down before she finally retired to her now completely unpacked apartment.

Chapter Text

The dam had broken. Well, two dams. And one had crumbled down completely whilst the other was still leaking slowly.

Zoey didn’t want to go with her friends to drinks. Well, a part of her did. A very, very small part. The rest of her wanted to follow her two tall… people-she-was-now-allowed-to-kiss around all day until they would kiss her more. Or kiss her and then more.

Zoey hadn’t felt like this in years. Every molecule in her body buzzed with joy. She didn’t need caffeine. She was killing it when she was presenting lectures.

Focus was a problem, though. To be fair, Zoey usually had trouble focusing but that was what her prescription of adderall was for. She had managed just fine in the last couple years. The way Mira and Rumi occupied her mind was beyond adderall’s limits though.

She regretted not finishing her doctorate degree. At first the whole situation— failing miserably at assignments, missing due dates, taking up too much of the conversation floor during discussions— made her feel nothing but shame and grief. However, being dropped from the program led to her diagnosis. Looking back now with years of therapy later, she knew her failure wasn’t a moral failing or a failure of effort but an essential step to being the adult she was now.

She knew that if she wanted to go back and get her doctorate now she probably could.

But she didn’t want to get her doctorate. She didn’t want to do anything except be around them.

‘Fuck,’ Zoey thought to herself. ‘I sound like a love-addicted stalker.’

She grabbed her bag and headed to her car so she could get drinks with her friends.

~~~~~

Rumi would still be working if Nadia hadn’t asked her so nicely to come audit her class. 

She and Nadia had become friends in undergrad. They were both Resident Assistants in the same dorms, but on different floors. Rumi had always been a little in awe of Nadia. She lived life so carefree— she was still caring and hardworking, but she had more fun in her life than anyone Rumi had ever known. Rumi’s body prickled with envy every time they were together, but her gratefulness for their friendship was always stronger.

“Roomie Rumi!” Nadia cried the moment she saw Rumi enter the studio. They had never lived together, yet Nadia insisted on calling her this since they met sophomore year and Nadia would fall asleep in Rumi’s room during one of Rumi’s near-constant all-nighters.

Rumi smiled and accepted Nadia’s warm hug.

“You look…” Nadia scanned her, halfway to a knowing smile. “Let’s get coffee after class.”

Rumi wasn’t surprised. Nadia was the only person nearly as good at reading people as Mira was. Rumi gave Nadia the satisfaction of a nod before she bounced off to the front of the studio.

Nadia was teaching in one of the school’s larger studios. The floors were glossy and the lights were bright and the walls were mirrors. Rumi sat in the only chair at the front corner of the room and watched students pile in, pack their items into cubbies, and start to stretch. Nadia’s attention was infectious. She was generous with it in all places except for in class. In class you had to earn her attention.

A quarter of the students who entered the class did some version of nod in recognition or short smile and wave to Rumi. Since behavioral science was a gen ed requirement and Rumi had the highest professor rating of the intro classes she often taught students of all majors. There were benefits to knowing students everywhere she went and she delighted in it usually. But in recent days having students everywhere was a reminder that she couldn’t touch Zoey anywhere without being seen. She should be used to it by now– she had conquered not touching Mira. But Zoey…

Rumi caught the blushes on a couple students faces when they realized she was in attendance of the class. Rumi associated Mira with being the carnal desire of students. There wasn’t a student in her classes– straight, queer, cis, or trans– that could resist Mira. Rumi always forgot she had an effect on a couple students too. Maybe this was the reason Rumi was asked to sit in. To help students easily flustered by an audience overcome the challenge. She felt for the dancers that were her students in this moment. Rumi herself was struggling to perform while her crush was around. 

What an appropriate name, ‘crush’. It felt like Rumi was slowly being flattened by a giant iron. Her brain was mush. Her palms sweat. She couldn’t help but catch herself thinking about the next time she would get to kiss Zoey, or wanting to be around for the glances that Zoey and Mira couldn’t help but exchange when the coast was clear.

Rumi and Mira’s sex frequency had increased since the ice cream night. They usually had excellent sex to begin with, but Rumi wasn’t as often in the mood as Mira. Now with their shared feelings for Zoey Rumi had been in the mood more often, but their sex simply wasn’t as good as it usually was. They both felt like something, or someone, was missing.

Rumi could feel Mira’s energy or agitation as well. Mira’s usual mess around the house had increased. She was far jumpier than usual. Instead of reading for hours at a time on the weekends like she usually would, Mira couldn’t last more than twenty minutes before having to get up and do something. It was different than when she and Mira had fought after Zoey moved offices though. Instead of Mira taking space from Rumi or leaving to go busy herself anywhere Rumi wasn’t, Mira was doing the opposite. Anytime Rumi was home Mira was not more than four feet from her. She was more physically affectionate with Rumi too, placing a hand on her thigh at dinner or a head on her shoulder as Rumi worked. It was nice, and anxiety inducing. Their usual ease had been shaken like a snowglobe.

Nadia started the eight counts, no music. A quarter of the class started dancing. The next eight count another quarter, then another, then the last. Nadia had a smile the entire time, but her eyes were dark and serious.

She stopped the count.

“You all are one person, one body,” Nadia said, looking around and making eye contact with every student. “It requires trust, it requires leaving everything not in the dance packed up in your cubby.”

Rumi saw in the mirror the way some eyes glanced at the cubbies as if they knew they had neglected to put some of what was in their brains away.

Nadia let the silence grow. She watched the effect it had on the dancers. Dancers were like airplanes: designed to be in constant motion. Rumi smiled to herself. Nadia was letting the silence show her whose minds were too full to stay still. Rumi saw what Nadia saw. The clenching and unclenching of a fist. The subtle roll of an ankle. The way a student decided to take a second inhale.

“Split,” Nadia commanded, and the room divided. Half the students were on one side and half were on the other.

Nadia paced between the two halves.

“Breathe,” Nadia said, and unconsciously the whole class took a large inhale and a longer exhale.

“Shake,” Nadia said. Rumi remembered Nadia teaching her to physically shake out her body before every test. Rumi hadn’t done that in a while. Every dancer shook, some apologizing softly when they accidentally hit their neighbors.

“Okay, whoever needs it, use it.” Nadia turned her back to the group and headed to the stack of tech in the corner of the room opposite Rumi. Then she clicked on the music. It was Madonna’s Vogue. Smiles spread over the dancer’s faces.

For a good thirty seconds, no one moved. Then finally, a student that Rumi recognized entered the floor between the two groups. Marcus, Rumi thought to herself, glad she remembered such a quiet student. He had been one of the students that blushed at her presence in the classroom. He stood, turning one foot out before springing directly up into the air and letting his legs split up and touch his outreached hands. When he landed he arched his back and reached back towards the back mirrors before gaining speed and prancing about the room. His classmates were silent, their eyes on his every angle. As Marcus’ face went from focused to relaxed his classmates smiled for him. He was losing himself to the music, to his love of dance. This was improv. This was Marcus alone with Madonna.

Marcus landed his spin and a large smile erupted on his face as he left the floor. At the end of the eight count the whole class gave a single, unified clap. Another student entered the ring.

When the song ended, Nadia looked around at the faces. She obviously saw a couple more students in need, because she turned on another song (9 to 5 by Dolly Parton). When the last student had finished, Nadia herself entered the center and started dancing. She made the class laugh with her goofy yet still skillful choices, cracking whatever was left of the room’s anxieties. Rumi hadn’t realized she had started smiling until she caught a glance of herself in the mirror.

“Okay, again,” Nadia said, as she started counting. The students moved in a newfound rhythm, moved by a collective calm and the inspiration they received from their professor.

~~~~~

Mira chalked her hands and looked up at the wall. The hair in her long ponytail brushed the back of her knee from the extra couple of inches her neck’s position gave it.

She’d been working on the same problem for weeks and hadn’t been able to conquer the crux of the climb. She knew from her friends on staff that they were about to do a reroute this weekend. She didn’t have much time left.

Plus Mira couldn’t think of a better way to not focus on the way her stomach dropped every time she thought of Zoey pushed against that door from the night before.

“Couldn’t you just dyno over it,” Tabitha asked. Mira didn’t usually climb with students, but Tabitha struggled with learning material while sitting and Tabitha hadn’t conquered the crux of Mira’s class material yet. This way Tabitha and Mira could talk and work and also Mira had more time to work on the route.

“This is why short cis-women are better climbers,” Mira said. “The route isn’t made for them and they still have to figure it out. I could dyno, yeah, but that would just be using my strength and height to surpass the way the route was designed.”

Tabitha chewed her lip. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t use your natural advantages though,” she said. “If it gets you to complete the route, who cares?”

“I care,” Mira said. “I would never get better if I didn’t accept the challenges designed to make me better.”

Tabitha squinted her eyes at Mira. Mira pushed her glasses up on her nose, then realized she would have to clean chalk off them later.

“This is about me and class, isn’t it?” Tabitha asked.

“Not intentionally, but you tell me. How is it about you and class,” Mira asked, approaching the wall and setting up for the start. She put her fingers on the starting chips and then progressed through the parts of the route she could do in her sleep by now.

“I’m not accepting the challenges. I’m skipping the route,” Tabitha said, hands up to spot Mira even though they both knew she didn’t need it at this part.

“Say more,” Mira said, hooking a heel on a hold on a volume before reaching her opposite arm in the direction of the next hold. Mira paused as the next part of the route started to overhang, changing the muscles necessary to keep going up.

“I do the readings and I can answer the questions,” Tabitha said. “But I’m not doing more. I’m not flexing or exercising theory.”

Mira made a sound to confirm she was listening while she approached the same spot she’d fallen from for a month. Tabitha was correct– she could use the element below her as a launch pad and skip the one hold between her and the final three holds before the top. Mira relaxed her spine and rested with her arms outstretched while she re-chalked her hands one by one.

“I just… don’t want to be wrong,” Tabitha said, a little louder since Mira was farther from her now. “I already feel like everyone there has more capacity than I have to be successful in this field.”

Mira gave a disapproving sound. Tabitha nodded even though Mira couldn’t see her. She’d just said things that belonged to her therapist’s ears, not her professor’s. Mira was probably going to tell her as much when she got down.

Mira mantled her current hold, pushing up on the hold until she could get nary more than a toe on it. Without another hold to ground her she flagged out one leg as a counter balance and raised her head so she could see her destination and her cheek was barely touching the wall.

Mira emptied her lungs before pushing slowly up, all of her weight balanced on the one toe.

It was achingly slow. If Mira had any focus other than on the wall she would have heard the way that Tabitha also was holding her breath. She wobbled briefly, and she flexed her calf to gather more stability before her fingers finally grazed the hold. Relief flooded her body. She hadn’t finished the climb but she had confirmed that reaching the hold was possible. She took a moment to curse the cis-man route setter that made this abomination. People shorter than Mira would have to launch themselves using a dyno in order to reach the hold.

The climb was officially over, and Mira knew it. The last three holds were laughably easy, and she pounded the top of the wall with glee before down-climbing the wall back to safety.

Mira huffed, allowing air back into her lungs.

“You were saying?” Mira asked, an eyebrow cocked to tell Tabitha that Mira was allowing her to reframe her previous statement.

“Do you ever have imposter syndrome?” Tabitha asked. Mira watched the way in which Tabitha was taking a chance with her vulnerability in this moment. Tabitha was hoping that Mira would have mercy on her.

“I’m awesome,” Mira said. Tabitha momentarily looked like she was building walls up to defend herself. “And I’m a cis queer femme woman working in a majority trans field. I was head of this department at 30 and the next youngest department head was 45. Even in my personal life there are differences in the experiences of me and partners and yeah, I have to confront that feeling too.”

Tabitha stood a little taller.

“My mentor once said that the only balm for imposter syndrome was time and work. And even then it never is cured, it’s just smaller,” Mira continued. “Playing it safe will not make you feel better about your abilities unfortunately.”

Tabitha nodded more to herself than to Mira. She approached the same route Mira had just done. Mira smiled when Tabitha hit the crux and failed. Mira caught Tabitha’s hips on the way down and helped her fall safely.

“Okay so my dissertation–” Tabitha said.

“What do you think you should do?” Mira asked.

Tabitha took a long time to consider. Mira could tell that even when she reached the answer she hesitated some more.

“Scrap it?” Tabitha asked.

“Are you asking me?” Mira said, scanning Tabitha’s face. Mira saw the moment the resolve spread.

“I need to scrap it. Which sucks given the work I’d already put in but…” Tabitha chewed her lip again. “The work was shit anyways.”

Mira didn’t nod, but did tilt her head a little. “You can do better. Find something that excites you, even if the amount of work is daunting. Start there.”

“Mira, Mira, on the wall!” A voice called. Mira could hear the slap of steps coming across the nylon mat.

Tabitha knew her time was up. She smiled at Mira, letting everything Mira was communicating with her eyes wash over her. Mira knew her potential. Mira believed in her. Mira believed in Tabitha most when she wasn’t allowing fear to dictate her and make her work worse than it could be.

“Thanks, Dr. Dyke,” Tabitha whispered. Mira wrapped her arms around Tabitha’s shoulders from the side and gave a quick squeeze before breaking and watching Tabitha leave.

Duke and Lila had known to wait until Mira was finished and her student had run off. 

Mira had met them both at the local non-monogamy group. They often did their favorite physical activities together. Duke and Lila would join Mira for climbing, Mira and Duke would join Lila for a swim, and Mira and Lila would join Duke in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. 

Mira loved the ways she and her friends were different more than she loved their similarities. Duke was in a twelve-person polycule and lived with four of his partners in a house across town. Lila was solo poly and would bring back the best stories of her experiences on her many work trips abroad. They both knew about Rumi and they knew about Mira’s exes but had never met any of them. Mira liked having friends that knew her but weren’t fully enmeshed in her life.

Mira loved their work ethics too. They always focused on the task at hand before getting to the juicy gossip. It was a sign of tiredness, actually, when one of them finally brought up a topic to talk about.

Mira’s hands were already trashed and her forearms burned, but she was determined not to be the first to speak. She slowed down and took on some easier graded routes while she watched Duke and Lila complete routes above and around her. They shared notes of encouragement and helpful tips on beta. Mira allowed herself to sit in how good it felt to be in the simplicity of climbing with her friends. 

She should bring Zoey climbing.

“What has you smiling so wide?” Duke asked, plopping down on the mat next to Mira. Mira tried to hide her face by suddenly being interested in Lila climbing but it was too late. Duke smiled at Mira’s blushing face and wouldn’t drop his attention. Lila let out an exasperated yelp when she slipped off the wall, falling to the mat ten feet from Mira. She laid there like a starfish for a solid couple of seconds basking in her defeat before rolling her body over to her friends.

“Li, Mira’s got a crush,” Duke said, bringing Lila’s attention to Mira’s face.

“Girl SPILL. The last trip was too long and I have soooo much to catch up on,” Lila sat up on her knees so she was eye level with Mira leaning back on her hands.

“Someone new blowing your back out?” Duke said. “You strapping someone good?”

Mira felt the blush bloom farther to her ears and her chest.

“Actually, no.” Mira said. “But Rumi and I have been getting at it more recently.”

“This blush is for your wife? That’s cute,” Lila said, the tiniest hint of disgust in her voice. Mira knew Lila was joking. Lila wasn’t about marriage herself, but she never hesitated to send Mira a ‘happy anniversary’ text.

“It’s not only for my wife,” Mira said, immediately regretting it when Duke and Lila both made obnoxious cooing noises.

They looked at Mira expectantly.

“So you know that coworker I had told you about? The one that had just moved into the office?” Mira asked.

“God, has it been that long?” Lila asked. “I need to work less.”

“You do,” Duke and Mira said in perfect synchronicity.

Lila brushed it off. “So what, you started dating someone in your office? That’s not like you. Isn’t that one of your rules?”

Mira nodded. “It is, and I was on the way to forgetting her but she pursued me.”

“Danger zone,” Duke said. Mira could feel the way Duke was showing physical signs of worry for Mira. His arms flexed, he shivered, and he made himself smaller.

“It was, but then…” Mira paused for dramatic effect. “Rumi had feelings for her too.”

The squeals of delight echoed through the room. Luckily it was midday on a Tuesday and almost no-one was around.

“Wait, where are you now? Skip to the good part,” Lila said, scooting even closer to Mira.

“Well you know how Rumi–” 

“Demisexual, yeah,” Duke said. Duke was also demisexual but liked having queer platonic or purely romantic relationships so his network of partners was vast and multifaceted. He was also impatient when it came to juicy gossip.

“Well that, and Zoey being our coworker, and we sort of alienated her for a bit and Rumi and I fought…”

Lila whistled low. Neither she or Duke liked where this was headed.

“Rumi apologized, and we made our way back to each other, all three of us. And when I tell you the sexual tension between Zoey and I…”

“Ooooh I bet, that’s so divine. How is the sex?” Duke asked, actually licking his lips.

“That’s the thing, there hasn’t been any yet.”

Duke and Lila exchanged a look. “What do you mean? Is she a virgin? Saving herself for marriage?”

“Hardly. I set her up with Zane–”

“Zane fucked her before you did?” Lila’s jaw was dropping lower.

“We weren’t together then! And I was trying to get over her at the time.” Mira said. “Guys, hold on just a sec, please.”

They sat up straighter to demonstrate that they’re on their best behavior.

“Anyways, so we all confirmed we liked each other, and she knows Rumi and I are married, and she got a new office and is staying there so we have a little more space. There was this… unspoken thing between her and I that Rumi would make the first move. Which was tough because–”

“The whole Juju thing,” Lila nodded knowingly.

“Jinu, yeah.” Mira said. “And then last night we helped her unpack her apartment and Rumi kissed her and then I kissed her. Although my kiss was more like an attack than it was an actual kiss because my god do I want to–”

“And you haven’t? Will you now?” Duke asked.

Mira sighed and fell back onto the mat, letting her hands frame her eyebrows. “I need to talk to them.”

“Have you at least been letting off some steam from the bar–?” Lila asked, but stopped at the shake of Mira’s head.

“They’re in an undefined relationship,” Duke offered to Lila who hesitantly took it as an acceptable answer. “You really think Mira’s going to be on the hunt right now?”

“If it took that long for Rumi to kiss Zoey…” Lila whispered tenderly.

“I don’t think we are going to be following Rumi’s lead every time,” Mira said. “Even Rumi said as much. But I need to know if she’s my girlfriend, and what she’s okay with, and not okay with. And I need to do it fucking soon because I am about to burst.”

“Man, aren’t crushes the worst.” Duke said, smiling wickedly down at Mira.

“The absolute worst,” Lila agreed, looking at Mira with nothing but excitement for her and a little delight in her pain.

“Okay, okay! Let’s do a couple more routes and then I want acai bowls and very detailed accounts of your latest sexual encounters. Let me live vicariously.” Mira said, hopping to her feet.

~~~~~

Zoey had only kind of gained some focus back from being around her friends. Luckily Eugene and Frankie Jo had also invited another professor friend Rafael who was successfully taking up most of the group’s attention. If Zoey had to put a number to it, Zoey went from about 10% capacity of ‘thinking about things other than Mira and Rumi’ to 25% capacity. It wasn’t a bad improvement after only an hour of being in the bar.

“I’ll get more drinks– Zoey, still just water?” Frankie Jo got up.

“Yes please,” Zoey said. She’d told her friends that she hadn’t felt like drinking, which was only half true. She hadn’t felt like drinking because alcohol made her horny and she couldn’t handle being any more horny than she already was.

“So, Zoey,” Rafael said. “Any special someone in your life?”

The way Rafael raised his eyebrow told Zoey he was interested. He was cute too, and had Zoey become a professor at this school and never met Mira or Rumi at all she could see herself dating this man.

“I just started dating someone,” she said. It was true, she had. It just happened to be two someones.

“Ah exciting,” Rafael said. Zoey was impressed that he didn’t show his disappointment.

“This is the first I’m hearing of this!” Eugene said. “Please say more. I’m hitting the seven year itch with my spouse and I can’t help but continuously think about when we were first dating.”

“It’s too new to say much,” Zoey said honestly. “But I like them. Honestly, I’m having trouble focusing on anything else.”

“Honeymoon phase will do that to you,” Rafael said with a nod. “It’s the best and the worst. I remember I lost my job over my ex-wife. Later I ended up with a crush on becoming a professor and then I lost my wife over my job. Life is a funny riddle.”

Zoey laughed generously. Frankie Jo returned with the drinks and Eugene filled her in.

“Oooo exciting!” She said. “It’s always so fun to click with someone new.”

“Are you partnered?” Rafael asked Frankie Jo. Zoey could tell this was a more innocent question than the one he asked Zoey.

“With many, actually. The partner I’ve been with the longest, we’re celebrating our tenth anniversary next month.”

Like Rafael and Eugene, Zoey couldn’t keep the look of shock off her face. For as queer as Zoey was, she was new to non-monogamy really. She’d dated people at the same time before, but that was just dating around. Zoey having feelings for two people and them both having the same feelings back was new.

Zoey listened carefully as Eugene and Rafael asked Frankie Jo questions. Frankie Jo essentially gave them a non-monogamy 101 course, explaining terms like “kitchen table” and “hinge” and more. Zoey was relieved she did actually know all of the basics at least in theory. She didn’t ask the questions she had. Her questions were more about how Frankie Jo decided who she came out to and how many people were in her polycule and how they handled conflict. All of those things were at least a non-monogamy 102 course.

Zoey knew she was lucky that Rumi and Mira had more experience and that she could follow their lead, but it didn’t settle the way in which she wanted to study and learn on her own.

As they all went to leave, Rafael and Eugene walked out first, talking about some sort of testing methodology.

“I’m… I’m dating a couple.” Zoey said to Frankie Jo. Frankie Jo looked up from packing her bag and gave Zoey a smile.

“First time?”

Zoey nodded. “It’s a secret too.”

Frankie Jo laughed. “Been there, it can be fun.”

Zoey didn’t know what more to say. She couldn’t share who she was dating, even if she believed Frankie Jo would keep the secret.

Frankie Jo walked around the table and put a hand on Zoey’s shoulder.

“If you ever want to talk, let me know. I love bringing newly non-monogamous people to our house too, I’ve been told it ‘really opens their eyes to possibilities’.”

Zoey smiled wide and thanked her.

Her phone went off and Zoey excused herself to check it.

Office Mates

Zoey smiled at her screen before she even opened her phone. It was a notification from their innocuously named group chat.

Mira:

Dinner tonight? Chow’s?

Zoey:

Can I kiss you both at Chow’s?

Zoey laughed at the ellipses popping up and leaving the screen.

Rumi:

…Takeout from Chow’s?

Zoey smiled. Frankie Jo put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her eyes back up for a split second.

“You poor thing,” Frankie Jo said, smiling wide. “You’re in deep.”

~~~~~

Zoey’s place had never been cleaner. She couldn’t sleep after the night prior and her place was already organized since every item had been put in its proper place when unboxed. She paced her place and opened all the windows to hopefully lessen the strong smell of Pinesol.

She jumped when she heard the knock on the door.

She had been prepared to jump up into the arms of either or both of them. However when she saw Rumi, still in her work uniform, both arms full of Chow’s, she was able to resist her urge in order to help Rumi offload all the food.

Then they were looking at each other. Neither of them were breathing, and Zoey could see Rumi’s courage waning.

“Not a line, I promise,” Zoey said. “But do you want to change into something more comfortable? You can borrow any of my clothes.”

Rumi’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Are you… sure?”

Zoey nodded and offered her hand. Rumi took it, and Zoey give the back of her hand a quick peck before leading her into her room.

Rumi stood next to the bed while Zoey looked through her clothes. Both Rumi and Zoey were thin but Rumi was taller and more muscular, with wider shoulders. Zoey picked a soft shirt from a teaching conference that was a size bigger than Zoey’s typical and set it on the bed.

Zoey looked back to Rumi and scanned her body. Rumi froze, and Zoey smiled softly with a lifted eyebrow and a wink just before she moved back to her closet. Zoey’s hips were wider than Rumi’s but Rumi’s legs were longer. For a second Zoey considered putting Rumi in the shortest shorts she owned, but Zoey decided to behave. She picked some normal length shorts and set them aside too.

“If you feel like you’ll get cold you can also borrow any of my sweatshirts. I’ll leave that for you to decide,” Zoey said, her smile soft.

“Thank you,” Rumi said.

Zoey nodded and went to leave the room. Rumi caught her arm and Zoey stopped, turning to face Rumi.

Rumi took her time, but her face did get closer to Zoey’s.

“May I–”

“Yes, please,” Zoey said. She was running out of strength. It took the last of her strength to let Rumi finish the journey to her lips instead of Zoey wrapping herself around Rumi.

Rumi’s first kiss had been tentative. Even though this kiss, their second, took a minute to start, the nature of the kiss was very different. Rumi smiled into the kiss and cupped Zoey’s chin to pull her in farther. Their smiles grew and Rumi tilted her head to up the tempo. Then as Rumi’s lips hit Zoey’s she opened her mouth slightly. Zoey’s heart was going to explode. She felt Rumi’s tongue on her lip and Zoey immediately met it. They pushed their tastebuds together lightly. 

Zoey decided to try taking a little bit of the lead and pushing her tongue a little farther, and Rumi made an appreciative noise that made Zoey’s stomach drop more than any roller coaster could. Her hands flexed at her side before she dared to put her hands on Rumi’s waist. Fortunately for Zoey but unfortunately for her resolve, the way Rumi was bending to cup her face was making Rumi’s shirt ride up so Zoey’s hands hit the cold smooth feeling of Rumi’s skin without Zoey meaning to.

Zoey broke the kiss with a gasp. Rumi was smiling at her. Zoey smiled back and then backed up towards the door.

“I’ll– You can– change,” Zoey said before leaving her bedroom and reentering the living room.

She pressed her back to the closed door and took in deep breaths.

“It’s almost evil, trying to go slow, isn’t it?” Mira asked from just outside the kitchen. “You should lock your door every time, you know.”

Zoey was still breathless. She looked at Mira, freshly showered with her hair down. She was wearing long sleeves and sweatpants. Her socks had polar bears on them. Her glasses were smudged with a white streak of something by the bridge.

Zoey launched herself at Mira and Mira caught her. Zoey’s legs locked around Mira’s ribcage and Mira didn’t waiver at all. Mira wrapped an arm under Zoey and around her back. Zoey tangled her hands softly in Mira’s wet hair and looked down at her face.

Mira tilted her head up until she was making eye contact with Zoey. Their last kiss was more like a slap, the aftereffect being more lasting than the event itself. They weren’t making that mistake again.

Zoey cradled the back of Mira’s head with her hand, pushing their lips together with delicious pressure. It felt like an exhale of a breath they had held for 18 hours. Their tongues met immediately, and they created a rhythm together without hesitation. After a good 20 seconds they had regained enough strength from the kiss alone to part.

They were looking at each other when Rumi left Zoey’s room in the new outfit.

Zoey whistled low as she looked at the way the shirt stopped just below her belly button, and at the new view of the tattoos that adorned her midriff and went down Rumi’s legs as well. 

“Is it my birthday?” Zoey asked.

“Our birthday,” Mira nodded.

Rumi blushed but also gave a look that said she knew she looked good.

“Do you feel okay? Do you want a different shirt?” Zoey asked, turning the flirt off for one second.

“I’m good,” Rumi said simply, and Zoey felt the heat in her lower body. With how she was wrapped around Mira she wondered if Mira could feel it too.

Zoey kissed Mira’s cheek and then detangled herself from Mira and landed back on the floor. Mira walked over and took Rumi’s chin in her pinch and kissed her. They wrapped their arms around each other and ended their kiss in a deep hug. Zoey watched and a different kind of heat expanded from her heart.

They all grabbed the chinese food cartons and started chowing down on Chow’s.

“How was your day?” Zoey asked, doing a poor job at sounding normal.

“Good, I went to Nadia’s class,” Rumi said.

“Oh Nadia, how’s she doing?” Mira asked. “We should do another double date with her and Preston soon.”

Mira froze visibly at the faux pas. Would they still do double dates if there were now three of them? Were there three of them? Rumi patted her hand reassuringly before providing context to Zoey. “Nadia’s my friend from undergrad, she was a resident assistant with me. She’s a dance professor.”

“Oh, your friend from the dance department,” Zoey said.

“Yes, exactly,” Rumi said sweetly.

Mira was focused on her food. Zoey could tell she was trying and failing to figure out what to say.

“I prefer direct communication,” Zoey said. “Which I think you both know by now.”

Her look was daring Mira. Mira met her eyes.

“I’m struggling being undefined,” Mira said. “And I’m sorry I mentioned the double date. I’ve never been in a– well, whatever our arrangement is.”

Zoey chewed her chicken and swallowed. “But I thought you have been nonmonogamous since before you started dating?” 

Rumi nodded. Mira continued. “Yes, well it’s always been that Rumi was my one and only partner and then I would go and sleep with whomever I liked. Sometimes I would repeat sleeping with people but it was never… there were never… I didn’t feel…”

“Ironically I’m the one with the two partners at one time experience,” Rumi said.

“And now we’re all… together, together.” Zoey said softly.

Mira nodded.

“New territory for all of us,” Rumi confirmed. “And a lot to figure out.”

They chewed silently for a moment.

~~~~~

They could have sat and talked it all out at once. In any ordinary workplace situation Rumi might have required it. But after a long day, they finally wanted to enjoy each other’s company and their newfound permission to kiss each other first.

They decided to play Zoey’s copy of Game of Life, much to Rumi’s chagrin. Zoey learned that Mira is a chaotic board game player in the sense that she doesn’t seem to have a long game at all– every turn she would react like she didn’t know how close or far she was from winning. It made it all the more frustrating when Mira was leaving Zoey and Rumi’s vans in the dust.

“How do you have six children and I don’t even have one?” Rumi asked, annoyed. “I probably wouldn’t even be married if the game didn’t require it.”

“Okay speaking of, what are we to each other?” Zoey asked.

They paused at the end of Mira’s turn (she discovered the cure for the common cold and gained $50,000) to answer the question.

“Well legally Mira and I are wives. I think we both want you to be our girlfriend, or partner, whichever you prefer.” Rumi said.

Mira nodded. Zoey kept eye contact with her until she figured out what Zoey was waiting for.

“Yes, please, be our girlfriend,” Mira said, her nervousness subsiding long enough for her to give a smile for emphasis.

Zoey couldn’t help but smile in response. “I’m your girlfriend.” God, it felt good to say. “You’re my… do you have a preference?”

“Girlfriend,” they both said, and Mira kissed Rumi’s hand in response.

“Girlfriends!” Zoey said with an excited squeal.

They all shared a smile, their hearts all beating loudly in their chests. Mira flipped the board, making Zoey scream with excitement and Rumi scream in pain before she realized that Mira had just tanked the game that Mira herself was going to win. Then Zoey started peppering Rumi’s face with kisses and Mira joined until Rumi couldn’t help but laugh.

~~~~~

Mira spun slowly in Zoey’s desk chair while she watched Rumi and Zoey go through photo albums.

“Wow, you’re so cute!” Rumi shrieked. “How have you remained this cute your whole life?”

Mira smiled at the way Zoey and Rumi’s shoulders were pushed together while they leaned over the photo book.

Mira felt appreciation grow like a garden within her, and her appreciation bloomed more when Rumi looked over to send a smile her way.

“Are we… dating other people?” Mira asked.

Zoey looked to Rumi, trying to read her initial reaction.

“I don’t want to, but I’d be okay if you both wanted to,” Zoey responded. She tilted her hand so it covered Rumi’s.

“I’ve… kind of been with everyone I wanted to in town. I had been in a dry spell before you came into the picture, and I don’t currently feel like I want to pursue anything else.” Mira said.

Rumi turned to her. “Will you let us know if that changes?”

Mira nodded. Neither of her girls had expressed that they didn’t want her seeing other people. She loved the weight of their trust.

“The two of you are enough for me,” Rumi said.

~~~~~

The movie was impossibly bad. It was entertaining, sure. But otherwise it was hilarious when it wasn’t trying to be. 

“So that one’s Kelly Clarkson?” Mira asked.

Rumi and Zoey nodded. “And that’s the guy that got second, Justin. It was in their contract that if they were to win they would be in a movie together.” Zoey said.

“Can you imagine competing with someone and then at the end being forced to be romantic love interests?” Rumi asked.

“Kind of hot,” Mira said.

“No! Mira!” Rumi said, as Zoey cracked up. Rumi punctuated it by hitting Mira’s face with a pillow.

After the laughing died down, Mira turned to Rumi and patted her lap.

Rumi turned and laid down so her head was on Mira’s lap and her legs across Zoey’s.

Zoey liked the weight of Rumi’s legs present across her thighs. Mindlessly she started tracing the patterns up and down Rumi’s smooth legs. She let her fingers drift a little higher, up past her knee and along the back of her thigh.

Then Rumi gave a full body shiver. Zoey looked over at a frozen Rumi. Mira looked at where Zoey’s fingers had stopped on Rumi’s legs.

“Ooooo, she found it, babe,” Mira whispered down into Rumi’s hair. Rumi looked completely petrified like an opossum in the street.

“I– I’m sorry I can stop,” Zoey said, gently pulling her hands up and off of Rumi.

There was an elephant in the room. The elephant was so big the elephant may as well have been the room. Both Mira and Zoey were surprised when Rumi brought it up.

“Sex,” Rumi said. “Are we– I don’t know, having sex altogether, separately, both?”

Mira and Zoey passed sexual tension between them via their looks. Mira turned to Rumi.

“What do you think, Ru?”

“I think…” Rumi said before reaching out and pulling Zoey’s hands back down onto her legs and letting the question sit. “I think I’d like to try having sex with both of you at once. It sounds like fun.”

Mira, for being so good at playing a persona at work, could not hide her surprise and excitement from her wife’s words.

“But I think we should have sex individually first,” she continued. “I don’t know your sexual need Zoey but mine is usually pretty low, so I don’t want to ever be in the way of you both enjoying each other. I would feel incredible guilt.”

Zoey and Mira’s eyebrows were as high as could be.

“If you’re sure, Rumi,” Zoey said.

“Yeah babe, are you sure?” Mira asked.

Rumi nodded. Neither Zoey or Mira saw any apprehension in her face.

“Yes. Please.” Rumi pulled herself up into a sitting position again. “ In fact, have sex tonight. I have work to do tonight, and an early lecture, and neither of you have classes tomorrow. Honestly, I would sleep better if you both finally fuck.” Rumi said. “No pressure though.”

“Who are you,” Zoey asked incredulously while laughing away some of the bubbling excitement within her. Mira’s smile was getting plain wicked. Rumi shrugged and smiled innocently.

Suddenly motivated, Mira entered the conversation. They paused the movie.

“Okay, other things. One, how do we handle ourselves on campus. Two, are we staying closeted. Three, any absolute do not do without the third person?”

Zoey looked to Rumi. 

“Unfortunately, no touching on campus, at all. Yes, it can’t get out. As for the last one, I can’t think of anything right now but we can come back together to continue this conversation later.” Rumi said. “We still have Celine to worry about, unfortunately.”

Mira nodded. Zoey agreed. “Yeah, everything you’ve said.”

They looked at one another. There was far more to talk about, but they’d made a lot of ground in a series of a couple minutes.

“Good for now?” Mira asked.

Zoey and Rumi nodded. Mira hooked a hand behind Rumi’s head to give her a kiss and then leaned over Rumi on the couch to do the same to Zoey. They both giggled in response, and then Zoey looked to Rumi for permission before kissing her to finish all the permutations.

Chapter Text

“Have fun!” Rumi exclaimed, walking out the door before turning back from Zoey’s doorstep to look at them both. “And yes, I will text you when I’m home.”

Rumi pulled Zoey in for a kiss first before kissing Mira, both equally quick. Rumi made a sound of delight at the pink in her girlfriends’ cheeks.

Then Rumi walked away towards the parking lot.

Then the door closed. Then Mira and Zoey were alone.

Zoey wandered back to the couch, preparing herself for the inevitable couch-foreplay-make-out-session before turning to face Mira. 

Mira hadn’t moved an inch. Her face was still pointed at the closed door.

“Mira?” Zoey asked.

Mira turned an ear slightly in the direction of Zoey’s words but remained still.

Zoey stood back up and walked halfway to the doorway. Part of her wondered if this was the calm before the storm, if Mira was going to turn and pounce on her like the prey that Zoey was. The willing prey that Zoey had felt like for weeks.

“It’s odd,” Mira said. Her voice was small and steady. “Rumi’s never pushed me towards someone else before.”

Zoey took a beat. Mira's voice did not sound like someone about to hop into action. If anything it sounded uncertain or hesitant.

“I’m your girlfriend now,” Zoey said, smiling momentarily at how the phrase felt coming off her tongue before calling the smile back given Mira’s odd mood. “I hope I’m a little more than ‘someone else.’”

Zoey couldn’t hide the concern in her voice, and it came off a little too much like insecurity.

Mira turned around but didn’t leave the door.

They’d never been alone anywhere that wasn’t campus before. They'd never been in a situation where they could so much as hold hands without the worry of getting walked in on, or caught, or reported to HR.

“You are,” Mira said, her face blank as stone. “And we’re finally...”

Zoey let her arms fall as she took another step to Mira. How many times had she seen Mira yell or scream or throw things or laugh or tease or protect? Mira lived life loudly. An unreadable Mira terrified Zoey.

“If you don’t want—“

“I do,” Mira said. “I do, so much. I have for so long.”

Zoey scanned her. Mira didn’t look anything like the Mira she knew. There was no confidence here, it was like Professor Mira had completely left her body and left a shell behind.

For a second, Zoey saw beyond the facade. Saw the way Mira tried to give her affection for Zoey away to Zane. Saw the way Mira fought to stay true to Rumi when Zoey confessed her feelings. Saw the way Mira bit her tongue and kept her promises to Rumi: don’t tell Zoey about Celine, don’t tell Zoey about their marriage, don’t tell Zoey about her feelings.

Zoey hadn’t seen everything though. She hadn't seen Mira calmly disagree with Rumi and try relentlessly to convince Rumi to change her mind. Zoey hadn’t seen the way that, despite Mira having her own relationship with Celine, she respected and followed whatever action or inaction Rumi wanted to take in regards to her aunt. Like she always had.

But Zoey could see the toll it all had taken. God, Mira had been so patient. And then she was even more patient to wait for Rumi to make the first move.

The only other time she’d seen Mira like this was—

“Mira,” Zoey said. 

“Oh no,” Mira said in a tiny voice. “No, not now.”

Mira’s eyes widened before she looked down at her feet.

“I— fuck. No, no, no,” Mira said.

Zoey didn’t quite know what to do, or what was happening really. She had some guesses.

“Let’s sit you down and get you some water, okay? I promise no sex right now, let’s just get you sitting.”

Zoey wasn’t prepared for the look of disappointment on Mira’s face.

“But I— I want—“ Mira raised her hands to her face to block Zoey’s view of her tears.

Zoey moved her to the table via her elbows and led her to sit.

“Ragghhhhh!” Mira said, trying to get her anger to stop her tears. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“Hey. Hey,” Zoey said, and she carefully pulled Mira’s hands away from her eyes and held them in hers. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Mira’s sobs fell free for minutes and Zoey squeezed her hands until she could catch her breath.

“This… happens,” Mira said. “Sometimes—“

Mira cursed as tears started to flow again and she took one of her hands back to wipe her face. Zoey took the opportunity to get up and fetch Mira a tissue box and some water before sitting back and offering a hand again.

Mira took it.

“I’m so pissed,” Mira said. “I’ve been taking my meds, I-I—“

“Have been a little pent up? Waited too long to let some emotion out?”

Zoey laughed when Mira pinched her eyebrows together in an attempt to be annoyed but ended up nodding her head and crying even harder.

“It makes sense. Your students and the proposal and Celine and fighting with Rumi and then there’s me—“ Zoey asked. “Hell, even my meds aren’t really working the way I need them to, I get it. Everything’s more intense when there’s someone new in the picture."

“Yeah,” Mira said with a sad smile. She sucked in some air. “I just… If I could have held out a little longer—”

Zoey smiled and moved her chair closer to Mira.

“If we had been able to fuck each other that moment I shared my feelings with you in the classroom,” Zoey said. “It would have been hot and fast and passionate. But we wouldn’t have been girlfriends then.”

Mira quieted her sobs to whimpers as she listened to Zoey. Zoey thought it was so breathtaking that even this disheveled Mira was so fucking beautiful.

“But it’s been how long—“

“Almost two months,” Mira said softly. Zoey knew Mira probably knew the exact amount of days.

“Talk about being edged until you cry.”

The joke made Mira bark an unexpected laugh and snot and tears splattered the table. She followed it with a groan at the mess, but Zoey took a tissue and quickly wiped Mira’s tears and then the table.

“Come here,” Zoey said, and she moved her chair close enough to be able to hold Mira.

Zoey felt guilty for liking this so much. She liked the way Mira’s head felt tucked under her chin. She liked the way she could smell Mira’s shampoo. She liked the weight of Mira’s folded body in her lap. She liked the way she could pull Mira in tighter by clasping her own wrists around Mira’s body.

She could have stayed holding Mira all night.

How lucky was she to be the person who got to see Mira without her mask. Dr. Dyke, completely unraveled. Bare essence of badass. Even if she could tell Mira didn’t necessarily want this to be the first moment she fell apart in Zoey’s arms.

When her heart had returned to a typical excited rate Mira twisted her torso and moved her arms until they were wrapped around Zoey’s neck. Then she pressed her face deeper into Zoey. Zoey could feel the prickling wetness of Mira’s lashes against her skin.

Mira remained there for an extra couple of minutes before she finally got up. She sighed, shaking out her body gently before looking around the room with her back to Zoey.

Zoey stood after Mira found her bag.

“Wait, Mir,” Zoey said, standing in the way of Mira and the door. “Stay. Talk to me.”

Mira looked to her for a second. Zoey could see the defensiveness, how she was turning her last couple minutes of vulnerability into anger at herself. But looking at Zoey some of that washed away.

Zoey reached out a single hand.

“You don’t have to go,” Zoey said. “Let me hold you some more.”

~~~~~

If Mira could purr Zoey would have heard it. But Mira couldn’t purr so Zoey settled for her strong and quick heartbeat instead.

“Is it helpful?” Zoey asked.

Mira let out an indecipherable growl.

“I can get —“

An arm wrapped hard around Zoey’s back, pulling her back to her position on top of Mira.

“I like it,” Mira said. She hadn’t said a word in what felt like two hours. The boiling-over emotions had stopped. All that was left was Zoey.

“You’ve done this before,” Mira noted.

Zoey nodded, rubbing her cheek up and down Mira’s chest.

“I had a girlfriend that got panic attacks a lot. This helped. I know what you had was more like an emotional spilling over but I thought the same methods might apply.”

“I don’t know why— why I—“

“There isn’t always a logical reason,” Zoey said. “All three of us have gotten together in a really intense way. Plus we’ve had all this… tension for so long. Contributing factors.”

Mira hummed. “Contributing factors.”

Another beat, more full breaths.

“It’s so embarrassing.” Mira said.

“Mir,” Zoey said, warning in her voice.

“No, not like that. The crying isn’t embarrassing. Well it is a little,” Mira said. “I’d just… imagined it so much. What I’d do when I finally had you alone and Rumi was okay with it”

Zoey moved slightly so her chin was resting on Mira’s chest.

“This doesn’t change anything for me,” Zoey said. “I am curious though… what did you imagine?”

A waggle of Zoey’s eyes had Mira let out a little breath of a laugh.

“I don’t want to say,” Mira said. 

Zoey arched her back to move up, and Mira resisted at first but then let her. Zoey’s thighs framed Mira’s on the couch, and Zoey sat back towards her heels so her body weight was on Mira’s hips. Mira looped an arm behind her own head, tilting it so she’s properly looking at Zoey.

“Why not?” Zoey asked. Her face was inviting, nonjudgmental.

Mira’s smirk settled on her face. She took a solid minute to consider.

“I… respect you too much,” Mira said.

Zoey’s eyebrows were touching the ceiling. “Oh so you were imagining something degrading. Now I have to know.”

Mira’s face instantly went red, then flushed white. “No, no! I didn’t— it’s not—“

Mira sat up so Zoey was on her lap now.

“I imagined us making out and heading to the bedroom and then… nothing.” Mira said, looking towards the floor.

Zoey cocked her head at her girlfriend.

“What do you mean?” Zoey asked.

“Well we… we’d never talked about sex. What we liked. How…” Mira’s hand was up, she was trying to drive home a point. Her cheeks blushed slightly as she struggled to communicate. “Jesus fucking Christ look at what you do to me.”

Mira sounded genuinely mad. Not at Zoey, definitely not. Zoey had imagined that Mira probably skillfully had pre-sex conversations with the people she took home from bars. This was… not that.

Zoey pressed her fingers into Mira’s cheek until her face was pointing towards Zoey’s again, and even then Zoey waited until Mira could find it within her to make eye contact.

Zoey kissed her. Soft and gentle and sweet, a calming and reassuring kiss. Mira didn’t move into the kiss, she simply waited for Zoey to be done. Zoey parted the kiss when she felt Mira take a deep breath again.

“You’re saying you didn’t want to imagine me doing something you weren’t sure I would want to do,” Zoey said. Mira shyly nodded.

“Now look who’s going to give who a cavity,” Zoey said, smiling and kissing Mira on the cheek. She lingered there and took in Mira’s smell, running her nose along Mira’s cheek.

“You can have a cavity,” Mira responded.

Zoey laughed at that, then placed one kiss at the end of Mira’s jaw. When she moved back and away from Mira again she was surprised to see the hunger in Mira’s eyes again. She hadn’t seen it since Rumi had been in the room with them. It was an accident that Zoey discovered the spot on Mira’s jaw, at least the effect was an accident.

“Did you at least imagine me giving you what you wanted,” Zoey asked softly, trying not to push.

“No,” Mira said.

Zoey looked at her quizzically but laughed softly. Mira had been too respectful to even imagine receiving without Zoey’s consent.

“So if you’d been imagining this for so long, what did you do?” Zoey asked.

“Well, I… I thought about making out with you, inviting you into bed, and then…” Mira’s eyes were on Zoey’s lips. “And then I would go home to Rumi and we would fuck.”

Could Mira feel the heat coming from where Zoey’s pelvis was pressed into her lap? Zoey didn’t know if she hoped she couldn’t or hoped she could.

“Was Rumi okay knowing you were thinking of me?” Zoey asked, her hands on Mira’s shoulders lightly. Anything more felt dangerous.

“Yes, because she was thinking of you too.”

Zoey let her head fall back behind her as she made a groan. She had decided earlier that she wasn’t going to have sex with Mira tonight, not after the emotional overflow Mira’d had. Mira was making it hard for her to stay committed to her decision.

Zoey moved to get up off of Mira but Mira’s hands grabbed her thighs. The hold was soft, one that Zoey could break if she wanted to. Mira wasn’t trying to stop her, but she was telling her to stay.

When Zoey hesitated Mira started moving her hands up and down over Zoey’s quads.

“What… should I have been imagining,” Mira asked. The eye contact was back. The bravery had returned. She was back to a Mira Zoey knew. Zoey wondered if she would have to throw her underwear away after this considering how wet they already were.

Zoey gladly took her lead. She made a considering sound, and as she did she rolled her hips the tiniest bit. Mira’s hands became claws in automatic response and Zoey laughed. Mira’s look of shock at the tease moved swiftly into a grin.

“Kissing,” Zoey said. “A lot of kissing.”

Mira nodded.

“I’m… very versatile,” Zoey said. “I like… being filled and being stimulated and filling and stimulating. It sort of depends on the partner and their interests.”

Mira had a look of protest immediately. Zoey put a finger to her lips.

“It’s not that I like things because of my partners. It’s that I like a lot of things so there’s never any reason we can’t have fun.”

Zoey smiled as she watched the words set in behind Mira’s eyes.

She knew she needed to be more specific. Her hands moved softly to Mira’s neck with her fingertips gently in Mira’s hair. She dropped her voice lower until it was a whisper. Then she made direct eye contact that dared Mira to keep it.

“I like the feeling of finally getting down to the hilt of something large, and I like grinding on a face, and pussy for dinner, sucking on a cock, and I love making people cum however they like to cum.”

Mira was finally letting herself imagine, all at once. It was like Zoey could see a reflection of a film reel projected on Mira’s eyes.

She could help herself. She could stop doing whatever she needed to. But at this moment she wanted to kiss Mira just to make her effect a little worse, so she did.

By the way Mira breathed up into Zoey’s face Zoey knew Mira was as ready as she was. But they weren’t done talking. The kiss started to change and as their tongues started their first touches Zoey pushed Mira down and away from her so hard Mira’s back bounced on the cushions with a thud.

Mira let out a low growl of frustration, but she smiled too.

"Your turn," Zoey said, rolling her hips again and smiling at the groan it brought out of Mira.

“I like making people feel good,” Mira said. “When I pick up people at bars I’m the only one doing the touching.”

Zoey blinked for a moment, trying not to let any of her thoughts or feelings float to the surface of her face.

“You’re stone,” Zoey said simply.

Zoey didn’t have the restraint of Mira. She had fantasized. She’d fantasized a lot. She fantasized about those long fingers curling inside of her, and of Mira strapping her up against a door. But her favorite fantasy was anything Zoey could do to make Mira scream her name. Zoey had to do some recalibration of thoughts, and fast. Maybe this is why Mira didn’t imagine her. What if they’d both been—

“But not,” Mira said. “With Rumi. And I hope not with you.”

Zoey blinked. It took her a moment for her audio processing to catch up with what Mira said. Then a look of concern broke through Zoey’s face.

“You don’t—“

“I know,” Mira said. “It’s different with you. And with her.”

“And—“

“And if that isn’t true we will stop, yes,” Mira said with a low and slow laugh.

“Gimme a second with that, please.” Zoey said, and Mira nodded. Zoey looked uncomfortable going through the moral quandaries of the situation she was in. As Zoey had done for her, Mira pulled Zoey back down and held her.

“Sorry, I— I don’t want to take advantage of you. And you were crying like an hour ago.” Zoey said. “How do you know it’s different for me?”

Mira placed her chin on the crown of Zoey’s head.

“I can tell. My body responds to you in a similar and different way that it responds to Rumi. Like, butterflies in the stomach kind of respond not only being wet. Though for the record I am drenched right now.” Mira said and they both laughed. “And as much as I didn’t fantasize about you in a specific way, I do want you to touch me. I don’t feel that way about other people.”

“So are you like Rumi, kinda?” Zoey asked, the emotion leaving her voice and it returning to a place of curiosity.

Mira chuckled. “I wondered that too at first. But no, I experience immediate sexual attraction. Quite a bit, actually. You should have seen me in undergrad, it was bad.” Zoey smiled at the thought of a sex-crazed Mira at the tiny private all-women’s college she went to. Zoey wondered the percentage of the school that Mira had fucked by the time she graduated. Mira continued. “I didn’t always prefer only touching, but I usually left experiences with acquaintances pretty unsatisfied until I started only touching.”

Curiosity was winning, it was winning over Zoey’s horniness. This was why they were all professors. “So with Rumi—“

Mira sighed with a gentle hum. “With Rumi, she was so new. I didn’t want to corrupt her. She really had to chase me once she figured out her feelings.” Mira laughed. “I was so scared of what I would do to her that she initiated sex with me.”

Zoey barked a laugh. She could see it so clearly. Rumi and Mira getting close, Mira realizing her feelings and immediately backing away, Rumi feeling excitement for a person for the first time. Trying to convince Mira her past didn’t define her. That they could have something together. Mira not believing her or pushing her away until Rumi had to be the one to seduce Mira.

“Wow,” Zoey said. She loved them.

"And even with her she sort of leads me for my stuff," Mira said. "God I sound like an imbecile. I don't really have a concrete answer for what I like and what I don't. I feel like I need to be prompted with options before my brain knows if I want something or not."

She took a second to listen to Mira’s heartbeat. It was strong, the beat heavy and ricocheting through her chest.

“Okay,” Zoey said.

The heartbeat picked up a little speed.

“Okay?” Mira asked.

Zoey nodded. Then she slowly picked her head up off of Mira’s chest. Mira was waiting for her, face already angled so their noses were parallel.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Zoey asked.

Mira gave a small and sure nod. “Yes, do you want to have sex with me?”

“God, yes.”

~~~~~

Zoey let out a yelp when Mira dropped her onto the bed.

Zoey grumbled and blew the hair out of her face before pushing herself back up. Based on the way Mira stood at the foot of the bed looking like a wolf admiring her dinner, Zoey no longer had any doubts. Mira was going to absolutely devour her.

Mira started ambling forward toward the bed and Zoey shot up to meet her. Zoey sat high on her knees on the edge of the bed and reached out until her fingers felt the silky sheet of Mira’s hair. Zoey followed the pink to where it took root in the nape of Mira’s neck. Mira’s smile dropped slowly in exchange for the focus she wanted for their first kiss in Zoey’s bedroom. They both hoped there would be many more.

It was like they were a roller coaster slowly clicking up towards the crest. Any second they would be over the top and then there would be far less room for thinking. The minute they kissed their coaster car was at the summit and for one glorious moment they could marvel at how far they’d come and all it took to get here. 

Then they plunged down.

Mira was pulled onto the bed by the hand on the back of her head so she was on top of Zoey.

The kisses evolved quickly— a peck, then a lingering smush of their mouths, then gasping open mouthed kisses that turned into a tongue wrestling match where they were both winning.

While on her back, Zoey wrapped her legs up and over Mira’s middle, pulling her down closer. Mira used momentum to flip Zoey up and on top of her, and Mira sat up to meet Zoey’s face once again. Mira’s hands grazed over Zoey’s quads, then up her back so their fronts were as pressed together as possible. Zoey looped her arms over Mira’s shoulders, taking a moment to focus only on kissing.

Then Mira’s hands traveled down until they could trace Zoey’s ass. Mira gave her a firm squeeze.

“This has been the death of me,” Mira said, her mouth still barely touching Zoey’s. “I’ve been trying to walk in front of you all week.”

Zoey smiled at the thought. “You haven’t even really seen it yet.”

Mira let out an excited groan into Zoey’s mouth. Zoey was done spectating. She moved her hands until they were on Mira’s neck. She used them to gently push Mira’s face to the side where Zoey had full access to Mira’s long, smooth skin. She kissed across Mira’s jaw and down towards her collarbone, listening for the soft gasps of positive verbal feedback.

“I’ve been wanting to suck on your ridiculously beautiful collar bones,” Zoey said. She was surprised when she felt the snap and unzip of her pants. Before she could protest she felt Mira’s hands back at the top of the waistband above her ass.

“May I?” Mira asked.

Zoey nodded before gently suckling on Mira’s collarbone. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to thrill Zoey.

Mira slipped her hands down the back of Zoey’s too-tight jeans, her warm hands pressing into Zoey’s bare ass.

Mira gasped as Zoey’s hands traced down her chest over her shirt, stopping to cup and briefly admire her breasts.

Mira gave Zoey’s ass another squeeze, pushing lower so her fingers touched where her ass met her thighs.

“Do you have a strap?” Mira asked.

Zoey sighed and shook her head. “What’s that phrase… lost it in the divorce.”

“His loss is my gain,” Mira said with a wholesome smile. “I’d rather have you.”

Zoey awarded her with a kiss and then immediately pulled Mira’s shirt up. Mira had to extricate her hands from Zoey’s ass in order to allow the long sleeves to separate from her skin and find their new home on the floor.

Mira was wearing a strappy bralette, significantly less casual than the sweatsuit she had been wearing over it.

“Naughty,” Zoey said with a raised eyebrow.

“You like it?” Mira asked, leaning back so Zoey got a better view.

Zoey wordlessly pulled her shirt up and off so she too was only in her slightly padded bra. Then she leaned down and over Mira so her breasts hung just in front of Mira’s chin. Only then did Zoey take her hand and start to trace the satin of Mira’s bra. When her hand had palmed half of Mira’s chest she finally asked, “Is something distracting you?”

Mira’s eyes hadn’t left Zoey’s cleavage the entire time. Not even as her jaw went a little slack with the pressure of Zoey’s touch over her bralette.

Zoey laughed to herself before dipping her chin to catch Mira’s.

They were done delaying. Mira’s hands held the entire weight of Zoey’s rack for a second before she broke their kiss. Mira didn’t dip her head to get her mouth on Zoey’s tits, no— she brought Zoey’s tits to her mouth. Mira dusted the freckled skin of Zoey’s chest with kisses and Zoey wrapped her arms around Mira to unbuckle Mira’s bralette.

Even with Mira’s bralette off it was no use— Zoey couldn’t get access to Mira’s chest while Mira was tending to hers. As Mira’s fingers started to tuck under the band of Zoey’s bra Zoey decided to take a different action. She placed a hand on the inside of Mira’s left thigh before quickly bringing it up so the flat of her fingers were pressing into Mira’s clit over her sweatpants.

Mira gasped and looked up at Zoey.

Zoey started to move her hand slightly—

“Fuck, Mira,” Zoey sighed. “I can feel you through your sweatpants.”

Zoey’s eyes darkened and she went for Mira’s waistband. Mira grabbed her wrist before Zoey’s hand could descend any farther.

“I want to be naked with you,” Mira said.

Zoey’s heart swam. She’d had her share of periods where sex was a quick fuck in a bathroom, a skirt pulled up or a zipper pulled down. Mira probably usually kept her pants on when she fucked people in order to keep herself from being touched.

This wasn’t a quick fuck. It was a first of two girlfriends enjoying each other.

It wasn’t what Zoey was expecting at all, really. They’d both been pulled as taut as a bowstring and Zoey had expected Mira to cut straight to the chase. This was different. There was so much care. Unlike how their flirting had been swift like their heartbeats, Mira was going to take this slow. She wanted to savor Zoey.

Zoey wanted to savor her right back.

Zoey removed her hand and sat back. She offered a hand to Mira. When Mira took it, Zoey pulled her back up into a seated position.

Zoey got to look at Mira. Her skin was smooth and soft and fair with some pink color throughout. Her breasts were small and pert and slightly upturned, like the area from her chest past her nipples was a ramp. Zoey took a moment to trace her spread hands gently over all of Mira’s chest before she sat back and lead one of Mira’s hands to her chest.

Mira went back to where she had been before, fingers getting ready to inch their way underneath the bra. Zoey shook her head, and Mira tried holding one tit while the other hand unclasped the bra from her back. Zoey smiled and watched patiently.

“Oh,” Mira whispered. Her voice was so small, and Zoey could tell that for as brilliant a woman as Mira was, Zoey had finally found a way to break her brain. Zoey looked down at her own chest to where the seafoam green studs poked through her nipples.

Mira looked up at Zoey’s face like she’d just unwrapped the best birthday present of her life.

“You can touch them,” Zoey whispered. “And suck on them. Just be gentle.”

Mira’s smile grew so it took up her entire face. Then she buried her face between Zoey’s breasts and wrapped her arms around Zoey to squeeze her. Zoey giggled.

Zoey stopped giggling when she felt Mira lift her via the same squeeze and then readjust so Zoey was now on her back. Mira kissed down from Zoey’s mouth to her neck to her collarbones to the top of her chest. She traced a pathway to Zoey’s nipple with the tip of her nose. She looked at Zoey’s face before she let her tongue touch the soft skin just above Zoey’s nipple. Zoey nodded as Mira moved her tongue down until it tasted the metal.

Zoey sharply inhaled, followed by a moan as Mira very gently traced the studs. Zoey put a hand behind Mira’s head as encouragement and softly scratched the hair there every time Mira’s tongue did something she liked. Zoey scratched Mira’s head nonstop. Zoey moaned with want when Mira fully suckled the nipple, hardware and all. She brought her other hand to the opposite nipple to gently roll and play with the studs. Then she switched sides.

It was past midnight. Mira paced herself like she had nowhere to be for the next year.

When she was satisfied (temporarily) with Zoey’s nipples, Mira kissed down Zoey’s sternum to her stomach until Mira was between Zoey’s legs. She hovered above where Zoey’s red underwear could be seen through the window of Zoey’s open fly.

Mira gave one look to Zoey and waited for her nod before she pulled both layers down and off.

Mira gave Zoey a good, long look. Mira bit her lip and came down and kissed the space where thigh met stomach. She got up off the bed and kept her eyes on Zoey while she pulled her own final garments off.

“Oooooo,” Zoey said. Mira looked down confused before she realized that Zoey was commenting on her pubic hair and how it was dyed the same shade as her hair. “Looks like I’m not the only one with surprises.” Mira laughed. Zoey loved the way Mira looked while laughing and she loved the way Mira looked naked so she was beyond joyous to see both at the same time.

Mira approached the bed, wearing nothing but her glasses and a smile. She pressed two fingers into the inside of Zoey’s ankle. She gracefully mounted the bed, pulling her two fingers higher up Zoey’s leg with every crawl. Finally Mira’s face had made it back to Zoey’s. Mira’s two fingers were now floating above exactly where Zoey wanted them to land.

“You’re so beautiful,” Zoey said, using a hand to tuck Mira’s hair behind her ear.

“Are you ready?” Mira asked softly, studying every minute detail of Zoey’s face and reaction.

Zoey’s two hands took Mira’s glasses off, folded the gold arms, then placed them safely on the bedside table. She brushed her fingertips over Mira’s cheeks, her eyebrows, down to her chin.

They smiled at each other, soft and considerate, holding eye contact. How long had they pined for one another in their tiny office? How often had they impressed one another? How often did they ignore the buzz of sexual tension between them? Now they were finally here, completely bare to one another, both unwilling to name what they were both feeling.

Zoey kissed Mira.

Mira’s fingers quickly made Zoey sigh into the kiss.

Her touch was light, dancing through Zoey’s wetness and exploring her labia before occasionally giving the tiniest amount of attention to her clit.

Zoey let her hands explore too, coasting down Mira’s chest and farther still over Mira’s flat stomach as Zoey kissed the spot at Mira’s jaw. Zoey was satisfied when Mira let a groan loose. As punishment or reward, Mira moved her two fingers to Zoey’s opening and waited.

“Yes,” Zoey said. Mira reacted the second she heard the ‘Y’ sound. One fingertip entered first, and Mira went knuckle by knuckle while looking deep into Zoey’s eyes. Zoey couldn’t help but blush and exhale as more of Mira’s long digit entered her.

“Okay?” Mira asked.

“You’re not going to break me, you know,” Zoey said, though the spell Mira cast on her wasn’t letting her voice be as flirty as she initially expected it to be. “Though I’d like to watch you try.”

Mira started moving her finger in and out in slow, steady thrusts.

“Oh I will try,” Mira said, the end of one lip curling up. “But I’ll save it for after our first time.”

“Our first time,” Zoey said. “You’re making it sound so precious.”

“It is,” Mira said, still pushing into Zoey but her eyes looking away, “To me.”

“Mir—“ 

Mira curved her fingers forward and hit the pelvic wall. Zoey sighed, then stiffened.

“Mira.” Zoey said, and Mira froze momentarily.

“It is to me too, baby,” She said, cupping Mira’s face and kissing her forehead. “I love this. Please don’t stop.”

Mira let her shoulders relax a little as she continued with the even rhythmic motions.

“Baby?” Mira asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Zoey panted at Mira's touch and nodded, thinking back to her cradling Mira in her arms a couple hours prior. “Want me to call you something different?”

Despite their age and height difference, Mira shook her head. Zoey smiled with appreciation and understanding.

Zoey made a whine as the curled fingers hit the spongy spot at the front of her pelvis.

“What do you want to call me?” Zoey asked, trying to distract herself from cumming too quickly like a teenager.

Mira considered, but wanted to continue keeping all her focus on her girlfriend below her.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Do you want another?” Mira asked.

Zoey nodded and Mira added the finger and kept at her current tempo, which was achingly slow. Still, heat was rising within Zoey fast.

Zoey started to lose her ability to keep up with Mira’s lips and tongue on hers. As she got closer and closer she finally hid her face into Mira’s hair and Mira held her tighter and did not quicken her fingers one bit.

Zoey came with a crackling cry, locking her arms around Mira so their bodies were completely flush as she rode wave after wave of her orgasm.

Zoey’s huffs turned into sighs as her muscles released their death grip on Mira. Only then did Mira slowly pull her fingers out of Zoey.

“Not…” Zoey started, speaking from the place under Mira’s chin she’d curled herself into. “Not what I expected.”

“No?” Mira laughed. “What did you expect?”

“Honestly? You to pound me into oblivion. Push me around a bit. Tease me or degrade me or praise me.” Zoey said.

Mira laughed. “We didn’t talk about any of that ahead of time, and believe me I will be doing any and all of the listed things you want me to.”

Zoey huffed a laugh.

“But yeah, I’m a little surprised too,” Mira said. “I guess I just wanted to see you.”

“Wow, that’s gay,” Zoey whispered, and Mira squeezed her with a smile in response.

“How are you feeling about receiving, baby?” Zoey asked when silence crept in again. “Whatever you need, whatever you want, no pressure.”

“I want you to touch me,” Mira said simply.

“How do you want to be touched?” Zoey asked.

“I want to be touched the way you want to touch me,” Mira responded. “I know that’s not a good answer but I genuinely can’t think of a thing you could do to me that I wouldn’t want.”

Zoey thought for a beat.

“What if I wanted to use another one of my senses?” Zoey asked.

Mira took equally as long before responding, “I’d like that.”

Zoey sprang up and drank from a fresh bottle of water Zoey kept in her bedside table. When she looked back she caught Mira’s eyes looking at her carnally. Zoey wagged her ass a little in her direction and watched Mira’s small smile spread.

“Come here,” Zoey said, patting the bed in front of where she stood. Mira did as she was told, she sat on the edge with her knees bent over the side.

Zoey placed her hands on Mira’s knees and leaned in to kiss Mira deep and frenetic, getting both of their pulses back up as if they were in a rush. Mira raised a soft hand to Zoey’s cheek, and Zoey took the hand and laced her fingers with Mira’s. Then she took the hand to her hair and pressed Mira’s fingers in until Mira was gripping Zoey’s hair on her own.

Finally Zoey pulled her face away and tapped Mira’s legs to bring them closer to the edge. Zoey pushed her knees apart, making room for her work. Then she descended, Mira’s hand still wrapped in her hair.

Zoey kissed inside Mira’s knee. Zoey didn’t really believe in having a lot of ‘moves’ in the bedroom but she’d learned that looking up at the recipient of her gift right as it was given often got her a good review.

She nibbled briefly on Mira’s inner thigh as she got closer and closer to the delectable scent Mira was giving off. She looked up through her lashes and rolled out her tongue. She watched Mira’s eyes widen and her body jolt when Zoey’s wet tongue met Mira’s wet folds. The minute Zoey added a moan to the mix Mira rolled her eyes and then her head back towards the mattress.

Good to know the move worked on Mira as well.

Zoey pressed her flat tongue across the entirety of Mira’s labia. She nibbled on folds, she licked around Mira’s opening while her nose pressed briefly on her clit. Zoey’s arm came up from where it was resting on her lap and ducked under Mira’s leg, pulling the long leg onto her shoulder. She put that hand on Mira’s hip for support and also encouragement. The other of Zoey’s hands went back on top of her head where Mira’s was and pressed Mira’s hand in tighter. Finally Mira caught on.

“Are you sure?” Mira asked.

Zoey smiled while making an ‘uh-huh’ noise. 

“Two taps to stop, okay?” Mira said.

Zoey nodded again.

Mira cautiously rolled her hip into Zoey’s mouth while holding her hair. Mira didn’t pull but she also didn’t push Zoey’s mouth forward. Instead Zoey pulled Mira’s hip in order to show how much she wanted this. That was enough for Mira to pick up speed, rolling her labia and clit over Zoey’s tongue and the sharpness of her chin.

Like Zoey, it didn’t take long for Mira to start whining and panting. They were the most beautiful sounds Zoey had ever heard. Zoey brought her hand from her head down to assist with the grinding by allowing her fingers to press underneath where her chin sat in Mira’s heat. She moved the tip of her finger to Mira’s vaginal opening.

She couldn’t see Mira’s face but she could hear her.

“Yes, yes, Zoey, please. Put a finger in me,” Mira said.

Who was Zoey to deny a request like that?

Mira groaned as the finger entered. Zoey didn’t have the length Mira had, but she could compensate with skill.

She could feel Mira getting closer. Zoey felt the way Mira's fingers flexed in her hair, the way Mira was losing her resolve and actually pushing the back of Zoey’s head into her a little. She saw the brief glances Mira stole and the way her body jerked after every glance.

“Z..Zoey…”

Zoey moved her tongue’s focus to Mira’s clit— allowing Mira to grind more directly into Zoey’s tongue. Zoey could feel the way Mira’s hip wanted to jump back, as if Zoey’s tongue could burn. Zoey pressed a little harder and fluttered her fingers within Mira.

Mira’s entire body constricted as she curled forward almost into a fetal position over Zoey’s head. She gave a single cry as Zoey felt Mira’s vagina pulse around her fingers. Then Mira went limp and fell backwards onto the bed.

Zoey took her mouth off of Mira and slowed her thrusts as Mira’s orgasm slowly came to a stop. She pulled out once she saw Mira’s long fingers wave towards her face in a silent demand: come here.

Zoey climbed back on top of the bed and tugged Mira until Mira helped move herself to the pillows.

Zoey brushed the sweat-slick hair on Mira’s face up and away before giving her forehead a kiss.

“Was that okay?”

Mira looked at her and burrowed her eyebrows.

“Was that okay?” Mira asked. Mira sounded like she had just crossed the finish line of a marathon. “Great. Fantastic. Amazing. Honestly I should spank you for even asking me that.”

"Oh, okay," Zoey said, tilting her hips forward from the side plank she was in so Mira had a better view of the target.

Mira huffed another laugh and then she tucked Zoey under her arm and Zoey rested a hand on the center of her chest.

When she noticed the way Mira was keeping her two fingers from touching the bedspread Zoey turned back to her bedside table and pulled out a pack of baby wipes. She passed one to Mira and used one on her own hand.

“Wait,” Mira said, stopping the baby wipe in motion. Mira turned and focused her eyes on Zoey’s face before kissing her, taking care to lap at her own juices on Zoey’s lips. Zoey chuckled at the sensation and kissed Mira playfully back.

After they’d both cleaned they fell into a relaxed silence.

“Wow,” Zoey said finally. “We did that. It happened.”

Mira laughed, bright and carefree. “We did.”

“And now we will do it a lot more,” Zoey said.

Mira shifted and set Zoey gently down on the pillow she sat up. Zoey looked up at her.

“Yes,” Mira said. “A lot more.”

Mira motioned for her glasses. When they were back on her face she gave Zoey a long look as if capturing a memory with an internal camera. Then she made a face.

“Are you—,” Mira started. “Usually I’m like a couple orgasms a night provider. But—“

“Baby, it’s nearly 4am. You sobbed, we talked a lot,” Zoey said, wrapping a hand around Mira’s wrist. “I feel amazing, and I will take you up on that offer for marathon sex another night.”

Mira smiled. “How about something related to your sweet tooth? Like ‘sugar’, ‘my sweet’, ‘sweetheart’, or ‘sweetie’?”

Zoey lifted an eyebrow in confusion before realizing Mira hadn't answered her earlier question. Then she smiled.

“I like them all,” Zoey said, the excitement in her voice emphasizing her feeling.

Mira laughed at Zoey’s decision to keep all options. Mira kissed her on the forehead and then stood up.

Zoey watched silently as Mira went to pick up her things.

“Mir, baby,” Zoey said.

Mira turned and waited for Zoey’s question.

“What are you doing?”

Mira had already managed to pull her pants on.

“I can’t drive home naked,” Mira said.

“You shouldn’t drive home at all,” Zoey said. “Stay. I want to wake up next to you.”

Mira, still topless, blinked at Zoey. Then she kept searching for her bralette. Only when all of the pieces of her clothing were found did she stop at the foot of the bed. Zoey pulled herself to sit on the edge like Mira had not long prior and she looked up at Mira patiently.

“We forgot to talk about this, all three of us.” Mira began. “I always go home to Rumi, it’s one of our rules.”

Zoey chewed on the words. She could feel how cold the room was suddenly without Mira’s warmth.

Mira shrank to her knees so she was nearly eye to eye with Zoey.

“You’re not a hookup, Zoey. Those rules aren’t meant for you, I promise.” Mira said. “You’re our girlfriend, you’re my girlfriend, and I—“

Mira cut herself off.

“But we didn’t talk about how we’re going to change those rules because we forgot. I didn’t even think about it until now. So I have to go home to Rumi and be there when she wakes up. And we will talk.”

Zoey was trying hard to not look upset and failing. She was exhausted.

“I need—“ She said.

Mira nodded.

“Okay,” Mira said in a soft tone. “What can I give you before I go?”

“Hold me a little more?” Zoey said. She hated asking. She hated having a negative feeling about Mira doing a responsible thing.

Mira’s smile was soft with care and guilt. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Mira moved her clothes to the unoccupied side of the bed and took her pants back off. Then she sat at the top of the bed so her back was resting on the headboard. Zoey put together that she didn’t want to accidentally fall asleep.

“Come here,” Mira said, and when Zoey was close enough Mira picked her up and cradled her against her chest like Zoey had when Mira was panicking.

Zoey kissed Mira’s neck, not more than a peck, to confirm that the position was comfortable.

~~~~~

The next thing Zoey remembered was waking up the next morning in bed alone.

Chapter Text

There were not one but fourteen separate emails in her inbox requesting for her to update grades in the online portal.

Rumi had only ever had one student ask for an update in the five years of being a professor, and now she had fourteen.

Her morning class had been fine. She was distracted. Her head was filled with questions like:

1. Why did she wake up next to Mira that morning

2. Why did Mira not have a single mark on her. 

3. When was she going to get her hands on Zoey next

4. Would she, though?

5. What if Mira came home because she and Zoey had fought and the relationship was already over?

She wouldn’t have any answers for at least another two hours. Mira slept in under normal circumstances but given how late they may have been up Rumi had no idea when she’d get her daily “Good Morning, babe” text.

Rumi headed to her office mindlessly. Usually she’d run some errands and go home before her afternoon class but she wanted to address the emails first.

She groaned when her hand wiggled the doorknob of her office. She forgot. Wednesday was the one day Mira wasn’t on campus with her usually.

She ran her errands off campus first, then she pulled into the parking lot of the campus library.

She found a table on the second floor facing the windows. This table was perfect— completely hidden from sight from anyone just walking around the library so Rumi didn’t need to worry about answering student questions. Even numbered floors in the library were dedicated quiet floors anyways. Rumi pulled her headphones out and her laptop and her journal.

Rumi opened her journal and started to write a to-do list while her email booted up.

Oh no, Rumi thought. Not only were there now fifteen emails but the fifteen emails were all from different classes. How had she gotten so behind?

Images of Zoey flashed in her head. Then came images of the hours upon hours of talking she and Mira had needed to get back to a place of strong equilibrium. In addition they also had hours of talking about what it would mean to add Zoey.

Rumi half-smiled, the thought of her two girlfriends making her feel warm inside. The consequences of her inaction however…

She physically shook her head before looking down at her newly created to-do list.

Rumi’s stomach sank lower and lower as the list went on. More and more things appeared. When had she last watered the plants? She told her grandmother she would call. Mira’s birthday was coming up and she needed to plan something because Mira had done such a good job at planning hers this year.

How had she let herself get so behind?

Rumi coughed. She tried to get the lump out of her throat. Why was her throat so dry suddenly?

Rumi usually had a grad student or two to help her, but it was getting closer to dissertation review and her support had grown scarce.

“Only way through it is to do it,” she whispered to herself.

Rumi organized her to-do list in the most logical way and got to work.

~~~~~

Mira shot off the good morning text. She shot off two, actually. Mira’s hand went up to her face to feel her smile. She’d been doing that more recently, smiling to herself when no one else was around.

Mira:

Good morning, sweetheart

Zoey:

Mmmmm good morn

Mira:

How are you?

Zoey:

Lonely, my bed is so big and cold without you

Mira hesitated in her response. Zoey beat her to it.

Zoey:

Not to make you feel bad, Mir. I’m glad you went home to her. Good news: I sort of like her too.

Mira:

gasp you like my wife??

Mira was smiling again. She had a feeling Zoey was too. She took a second to change Zoey's name in her phone. It was safer for them anyways, in case a student ever read texts over their shoulders.

Mira:

She’s already at work but I’ll talk to her soon I promise.

Sweets:

I know you will, I’m not worried. Just excited.

What are you doing today?

Mira:

Housework, laundry, and meal prep. Then dinner and movie with Celine.

Sweets:

I didn’t know you were dating Celine too

Mira:

WHAT no

She and I watch French films and eat at seafood restaurants. Rumi doesn’t like either.

Sweets:

Yeah but… why 

Mira twisted her mouth in consideration. Does she tell Zoey ‘because I miss my mom and hanging with Celine makes that feeling subside a lot’? Or ‘because it’s fun and sometimes we get to talk about Rumi’? Or 'because I can't force Rumi to have a better relationship with Celine because of all their history but Celine has only ever been nice to me'?

Mira:

Ask me again when we’re together next?

Sweets:

Okay, sure. I’m surprised you can be around her after the last couple days.

Mira:

Don’t worry, I’m an expert at hiding things from parents.

They continued texting over the course of the day, talking about everything and nothing at all with long breaks in the middle while Mira completed tasks. Mira somehow managed to get everything she needed accomplished, just in enough time to get ready for dinner.

Celine’s Lexus pulled up to the curb and Mira left the house, locked up, and got in.

“Hey Mom,” Mira said, glad it produced a smile on Celine’s face like it always did. Mira started doing it after her wedding. She knew Rumi didn’t even call Celine Mom but it felt right enough to Mira. She used it sparringly. She didn’t use it around other people, only when Mira and Celine had their own time together.

The drive was comfortable and quiet. Mira was playing an orchestral piece from her speakers, another shared delight that Rumi didn’t appreciate as much as they did. It always reminded Mira of her years of ballet. Sometimes a piece would come on and she could perfectly remember the choreography. If she hadn’t been confined to a car she would have danced it just to prove she still could.

Of course, she hadn’t touched a ballet studio since she left her parents. She missed that, too.

~~~~~

“I’ll take the sole, please. Green beans on the side. Oh, and we’d like to put in the order for the chocolate soufflé now please, we know it takes a while.”

Mira would insist on splitting the bill with Celine of course, but it still delighted her that Celine always initiated dessert. “Dinner with my daughter is always a reason to celebrate,” she’d said once, in a particularly good mood. She hadn’t said it since, but the memory was enough to make Mira smile every time.

“About time you got one.” Mira chided when the waiter stepped away.

It took a minute but Celine’s face showed her disapproval of the joke. It wasn’t quite an eye roll considering Celine was too proper to roll her eyes but the effect was the same. Mira could tell Celine secretly liked the way Mira teased her. Rumi didn’t tease Celine like this. Their relationship was too sincere, too clouded by Celine’s expectation. One of the benefits of getting a new daughter fully grown and already successful was that the instinct to raise her was significantly lessened. Not that Celine ever resisted giving Mira any and every suggestion she could, wanted or not.

“Anything new since the last time we spoke?” Celine asked, and she took a sip of her wine. They were splitting a bottle. Mira knew the orange wine would have been too sweet for Rumi, and that Rumi never liked to drink the bottom residuals of the bottle. She also knew that the bottom was Celine’s favorite part. Mira wondered if Zoey liked wine.

Mira swirled her glass lightly, smiling to herself that Celine disapproved of her holding the glass via all of her fingers on the rim.

“I crossed 125 novels so far this year,” Mira said. “And there was this route that was annoying me at the rock wall that I finally completed.”

“Nice send," Celine said, a phrase Mira had taught her the one and only time they went climbing. They found out pretty quick that Celine was afraid of heights. "Any highlights from the 125 books?”

Mira smiled and shook her head.

“Sometimes there’s a fun choice or two in a book but for the most part they’re pretty procedural,” Mira said. “Which is the point. I want the expected.”

Celine laughed while shaking her head.

“I don’t understand why someone as brilliant as you would find comfort in repetitive romance novels,” she said, taking another swig of her wine.

“Gotta turn your brain off sometimes, Celine,” Mira said. “What do you do to turn your brain off?”

“I feel like I haven’t since before Rumi was born,” Celine said with a sigh. The way she wasn’t looking at Mira told Mira she was being honest.

Mira nodded, waiting.

“My garden’s looking well. I’ll have a box of produce for you and Rumi soon.”

Mira smiled. “Did you do those green beans again?”

Celine laughed again, this time bright in a way that made Mira’s chest sing a little.

“You and those damn beans,” Celine said.

“Language!” Mira said, covering her ears like a four year old with a shit-eating grin spread on her face.

Celine visibly relaxed and she smiled. “Yes, I have your beans.”

The entrees were fine. She and Celine both liked to review the meal and talk about all the changes they would have made to make it better. There were a couple of times when she and Mira had gotten a meal that made Mira so mad that she insisted on copying it for the next Sunday dinner. Celine never had notes for Mira’s food.

The soufflé was divine.

~~~~~

They settled into their seats and Mira pulled her phone out to turn it off. She’d been so busy today that she didn’t have a lot of time to check notifications other than responding to Zoey’s texts occasionally. Sure enough, the top of her notifications was a text from Zoey. She didn’t dare look at it while sitting next to Celine, so she turned her phone off and hid her giddy smile.

This movie was especially brutal for them both. What was up with the French and grief? They both used their respective tissue boxes they knew to bring, never acknowledging to each other that they were crying or where the crying was coming from. Mira knew, of course. For Celine she missed Mi-yeong and Sunwoo, Rumi’s other parents. Mira missed her own parents, despite the lack of love she’d experienced her whole life.

It felt especially cathartic to cry next to someone who disliked crying as much as she did. God why hadn’t she seen this film before last night? Then maybe she wouldn’t have cried in Zoey’s arms.

Mira flexed her hands as she pushed the more delicious images of the night before out of her mind. Even though she really wanted to keep thinking about the way Zoey looked up at her, the way her tongue—

Luckily, credits started to roll.

~~~~~

“French people, am I right?” Celine said. It was another one of their rituals. When the film was really good she said ‘French people, am I right?’ with a delighted smile. When the film was bad she said ‘French people, am I right?’ with an annoyed frown. This time it was said softly, with a relieved sigh like they’d both finally come up for air.

Mira smiled in appreciation. They hadn’t talked about work, or Rumi. This was their time together. Mira respected the hell out of Celine for that.

Which made it so difficult that Mira also hated her actions at the University. Mira hated what she did to Zoey, what she did to Rumi. The position she put Mira in. The way Celine couldn’t resist interfering because she thought that’s what Rumi needed. She thought putting Zoey in the mix would be discouraging to Rumi and Mira. Mira smiled to herself at just how incredibly wrong Celine was. She couldn’t wait for Celine to realize that her daughters may never have gotten into a throuple if her meddling hadn’t failed so spectacularly.

Celine didn’t notice the smile Mira had to herself over the thought. Mira pulled her phone out and turned it back on.

It came to life in her hand. Not only the light, but the vibrations of message after message. Mira raised an eyebrow. She’d told Zoey she was heading into the movie. Did Zoey spam her as a romantic bit, knowing Mira wouldn’t be able to respond until after she was out?

No, she hadn’t. Mira had 5 missed calls from Zoey.

She looked at her messages. There were a couple texts from before she left for dinner with Celine when Mira had run from one task to another without a minute to stop and respond.

Sweets:

Have you heard from Rumi today?

Sweets:

She hasn’t texted me back or responded at all.

Sweets:

Should I be worried?

Sweets:

Do you think she wasn’t actually okay with last night?

Sweets:

Fuck this movie, how did I not notice sooner. I could have asked you about this earlier. She’s probably been texting you all day. Is she mad at me?

Sweets:

Has she been texting you at all?

Mira's heart hit the floor. She thought about coming home the night prior, barely an hour before Rumi's alarm would go off. She thought about how she delicately moved all of the papers and Rumi's laptop off and away from Rumi, stacking them neatly on the desk across the room. She thought about how she tucked the blanket up to Rumi's chin since she had fallen asleep still propped up on pillows and still in her hoodie.

How had she not seen it?

“Everything okay?” Celine asked. Mira could hear the worry on her face.

Mira opened her texts with Rumi. There her good morning text sat, completely unanswered.

How had she not noticed?

Mira looked up at Celine.

~~~~~

Mira’s grip on Rumi’s shoulder was firm.

Rumi jumped from where she sat and pulled her headphones off as she turned to face her wife.

Mira watched Rumi’s face and the way she looked up with honest confusion. It mixed with horror as she took in Mira’s expression.

Mira looked away but offered her hand. Rumi took it, and Mira led her away. Rumi wanted to object, they were leaving her things at the table unattended.

When they got to the stairwell with the fire door firmly secured behind them, Mira yelled.

“Rumi, what the FUCK.”

Rumi was still half confused, and seeing her wife yell at her for the first time in a couple years wasn’t helping. Rumi took a second to think about when Mira had last been this upset. It was probably—

Oh.

Rumi looked at her watch. It was 11:45pm. She patted her pants for her phone and picked it up. Dead.

“It’s been dead since 10:43am this morning,” Mira said, her voice less loud but just as angry. “It died at Lowe’s of all places, according to the tracking app.”

Rumi was speechless.

“I thought you were dead. I thought you’d gotten into a car accident— it took an hour for Celine and I to—“

“Celine?” Rumi said with astonishment. Mira wouldn’t have gotten Celine involved until she knew what was going on.

Then it dawned on her.

“Oh fuck, it’s movie night.”

Mira pulled out her phone and dialed. Rumi stood silently.

“She’s fine. We’re okay, I promise. I’ll fill you in when we get home.”

Then she dialed again.

“Yeah, she was here. It was a good idea. We’ll be down soon.”

Zoey. Then Celine.

Fuck, Zoey.

The magnitude of the situation was finally hitting Rumi.

“Mira—“

Mira crossed her arms and stood looking imposing at her wife. Her usual softness was hidden. Rumi knew it wasn’t gone but it definitely wasn’t present at this moment.

Words failed her.

Mira sighed, and then with an annoyed groan she pulled Rumi in. Luckily she’d just cried for two hours at the movie and for hours the night before so she could be as clear as she needed to be and not a blubbering mess.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I’m mad at yo-- the situation. Zoey’s terrified you hate her. Let’s go home and talk there.”

Rumi nodded into Mira’s shoulder, giving her a squeeze.

Mira supervised her as she grabbed her things and they headed down and out to the parking lot.

Celine’s Lexus was waiting there, like it had been when Rumi had been sent home from high school when she couldn’t handle getting a D on her trig final.

The minute Celine’s eyes hit hers Rumi cried. It all came crashing down. Mira caught her, and put her in the Lexus before anyone could recognize that the wailing was coming from such an esteemed professor.

The ride home was silent. Rumi cried into Mira’s neck in the backseat as Celine drove fast but cautiously to Rumi and Mira’s home. The longer Celine’s silence sat in the air the harder Rumi cried. Mira’s softness wasn’t present in her face still but she kissed Rumi’s temple softly and squeezed her in.

Celine parked and Mira helped Rumi get out. Celine grabbed Rumi’s bag. Then they were all standing outside the house.

Celine stepped forward and gave Mira the bag. Then she did the one and only thing that would make Rumi cry harder. She pulled Rumi away from Mira and into a hold of her own.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Celine said into Rumi’s hair. “We were so worried.”

Celine let her cry into her silk shirt. Celine made eye contact with Mira. Rumi was so vulnerable right now. Mira knew one negative word from Celine would make her furious at two people instead of only one.

It was a misplaced worry this time. Celine saw something in the way Mira stood, strong and firm like she always did, and Celine pulled off of Rumi.

“Go make things better with your wife,” Celine said, kissing her on her forehead before turning back to her car. Moments later she drove away.

~~~~~

“…Yeah, absolutely. Let me ask. Hey, do you want to talk to her?” Mira asked Rumi, her voice soft.

Rumi was freshly showered and in the comfiest of her clothes. Mira had made her tea.

“Zo?” Rumi asked. The crying had been over for a while but her voice broke.

“Hi Ru,” Zoey said, her voice quiet and cautious.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Rumi began. “This has happened before. It’s…” she looked to Mira, “a recurring issue.”

Zoey was quiet.

“I never walked in graduation for my PhDs. I was in a facility that forced me to rest. It had gotten that bad. And then I almost ended up there again last year.”

She saw the way the surprising honesty melted a lot of Mira’s stiffness. Admitting you have a problem is the first step and all that.

“Yeah, you can talk to her.”

She passed the phone to Mira.

Mira’s eyes flicked to Rumi.

“No, I don't think coming over right now's for the best. Zoey, it’s so early in our relationship, and this situation…” Mira searched for the words. “It comes with a lot of history. I don’t want to keep you excluded I promise. I— Yeah, tomorrow morning makes sense. After we all rest.“

Rumi watched the results of the position she’d put Mira in.

Mira let out a gasp of a laugh. “Yes, me first then her. You’re next.”

Mira looked to Rumi. “She said she doesn’t have breakdowns, she’s more mentally stable than the two of us.”

Rumi smiled, still too scared to laugh.

“We’ll talk this out. I already got Rumi an appointment with her therapist tomorrow, and I have one with mine tomorrow as well. I have to figure some things out, I was supposed to go to Florida this weekend. I have to cancel my—“

“What? No!” Rumi said, sitting up. “Mira, Bobby—“

Mira gave her a warning look. She was not to be trifled with right now. There was no way any student’s activity was going to take precedence over making sure Rumi was okay.

“What, Zo?”

Rumi clenched her mug so tight she worried she’d break it.

“You’re right, I’ll do it tomorrow. We’re going to talk and go to bed and talk more in the morning.”

Mira smiled softly.

“I will. Yes, I promise. Okay, good night, sleep well.” Mira handed the phone to Rumi. “Say goodnight.”

“Zo?” Rumi asked the phone.

“Hey cutie,” Zoey said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Rumi said, her eyes welling just enough for a couple tears before stopping again. Her voice gave her away.

“I’ll bet,” Zoey said. “I’m excited for you to get some good sleep tonight, okay?”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah,” she said, voice still mangled.

“Good night,” Rumi said.

“Good night. I’ve told Mira to be nice to you.”

Rumi smiled and let a laugh escape.

“She always is,” Rumi said, letting her eyes trace her very worried wife.

She heard Zoey smile before she hung up.

~~~~~

Mira sat in the chair opposite her. She bent forward so her elbows rested on her knees and her face in her hands. Her hair unintentionally came over her shoulders to hide her face.

They sat in the silence for a good five minutes.

“What are you feeling?” Rumi asked.

Mira’s body stiffened. She finally looked up, letting her long fingers pull down over her face. She looked so tired. Probably not nearly as tired as Rumi looked. She always looked gaunt and destroyed after an episode.

Their therapist had suggested they start doing this as a way to help Mira process her feelings before she spoke.

“Mad. So, so very mad.”

“Mira I’m so—“

“Mad at myself, to clarify.” Mira said. She pushed her fingertips into her closed eyes. “I can’t believe it took me twelve hours to even check on you. Twelve hours.”

“You can’t check on me all the time—“

“But I should have known something was up when you didn’t respond to my text. I just got so caught up in house stuff and getting ready for Celine and Zoey,” Mira said. “God, Zoey. I don’t think we’re doing a great job starting this relationship showing how chill and stable we are.”

Rumi walked to the couch to sit and slapped the leather lightly until Mira walked over and sat down. They sat apart, but Rumi grabbed Mira’s hand.

“I don’t think she expects dating two people to be easy,” Rumi said. “And hopefully we’re hot enough that she’ll forget we’re humans with feelings.”

Mira smiled at her. “I’m glad your humor is back, that’s a good sign.”

Rumi sat patiently.

“I’m also sad for you. I should have seen this coming. Hell, I’ve been behind too, and I know that everything feels so much worse for you when you’re behind,” Mira said. “I should have been with you.”

“Mira Hong,” she started. “One, you can’t treat me like a baby bird and keep me in your gilded cage all day. God knows Celine’s tried. There will be times we are not together and if I fall apart when you’re not around that isn’t your fault.”

Mira put her forehead on Rumi’s shoulder while she listened.

“Two, I could have done a lot of things differently. I could have charged my phone last night. I could have charged my phone in the car. I could have used that portable charger you make sure I keep on me at all times,” she said. “I could have sat in a more visible area of the library.”

Mira looked up.

“It was really fucking annoying walking through four floors of the library twice before I found you.”

Rumi nodded.

“And I know I scared you. I know I’ve scared you every time. Right after we started dating, after Jinu left.” Rumi said. “I know I didn’t mean to but that doesn’t make me any less sorry.”

Mira turned her head and looked off into the distance.

“We were worried about this. Getting caught up, forgetting about you,” Mira said.

Rumi grabbed Mira’s head and squeezed her hands into the sides of Mira’s face.

“You didn’t forget about me. You were just busy.” Rumi said, hands softening into a caress. “Please don’t let this affect our relationship with each other and Zoey. Zoey’s the best thing to happen to us in a while and you know it.”

Rumi watched as the shame on Mira’s face mixed with a smile for Zoey.

“Now you’re banned from using ‘should’ for the next year. What did Theo say—“

“Should is shame,” Mira recited.

“And what would you tell me?”

“Fuck shame,” Mira said, her smile overtaking the shame.

Rumi smiled back at her, and then fell forward into Mira’s arms.

“Do you want to yell at me some more?” Rumi asked.

“No,” Mira said.

“You’re a big softie, Mira Hong,” Rumi said.

Mira didn’t respond to that accusation.

“Are you hungry?” Mira asked. She didn’t need an answer. She knew Rumi hadn’t eaten today.

~~~~~

“Hey,” Mira said.

Zoey had been about to knock before she heard the voice behind her. She turned.

“Hi,” Zoey said in response.

“Had to get Rumi’s car from the library parking lot,” Mira explained, pointing to the now parked car. “Good thing it’s a 24 hour library otherwise she would have been towed for sure.”

Had circumstances been different they maybe would have greeted each other with a kiss. Instead they stood for a moment, looking at each other amidst a cloud of unspoken things. They could blame being tired at the start of a new day.

“Come on in,” Mira said finally. She lead the way back to the door and used her key to let them inside.

Zoey took in the house.

It was different than she imagined. Warmer. Considering how sleek their outfits always were she expected something more modern and sparse, a little like Celine’s office. No, the house was beautiful and simple but full of character. The floor was a cheery wood, the walls a soft almost neutral pink. Plants filled every corner of the house— there was a pot on every shelf, on every surface, and hanging from the ceiling. 

They had photos of each other and of them with graduating students and framed letters of appreciation. The evidence of all the hard work they put into their work and their student’s lives.

Zoey smiled at the pieces of her girlfriends she saw in the house. Rumi’s organizational touches, big jars of things labeled with a label maker. Her motorcycle helmet and protective gear hanging on its own dedicated hook. On one wall was a giant shelf with cubes overflowing with board games yet the games were all organized by play time and player count.

In a corner sat floor to ceiling bookshelves and a comfortable Eames-style chair. The bookshelf was organized like Mira’s at the office: books shoved wherever they fit, horizontally or vertically. Zoey noticed the way the cheesy romance novels sat among the large theory textbooks. A chalk bag and a ziplock bag with climbing shoes inside sat on a long desk with two chairs where half of the table was cluttered with things and the other half was completely organized and minimalist.

They had a long walnut brown leather couch facing a television that was older and collecting dust, and two arm chairs on either side of the couch. Their rug was a green shag. They had a dining table and chairs enough for six people, and Zoey noted how their table was not a folding table made of plastic like hers.

She wrapped her arms around Mira’s waist, effectively breaking the apprehension between them. Mira’s muscles relaxed under Zoey’s hands and she turned to kiss Zoey immediately.

The kiss was simple and sleepy. Just a morning’s hello.

“Can I get you a drink? Some caffeine?”

Zoey hummed, still holding tight to Mira and giving her a squeeze that Mira returned.

“What do you drink?” Zoey asked. “You know my order at work but I don’t know yours.”

Mira smiled. “I usually do a chai. Rumi does an oat milk latte. We can do espresso here, I really got into brewing a year or so ago.”

Zoey rolled her eyes. “Of course you took up a hot hobby.”

Mira chuckled and pulled her face closer. “Anything I do is hot by association.”

“I know, exactly!” Zoey said, throwing her hands up in the air.

Mira laughed softly. “Shhh, let’s try to keep it down.”

“Oh, is Rumi asleep?” Zoey said. “She’s usually—“

“Yeah, after last night she took a sleeping pill and is catching up on rest. I convinced Bobby to lead her classes today. He needed to get out of his head a little too.”

Zoey watched Mira’s eyes darken at the thought of last night.

“Can I have a dirty chai?” Zoey asked. “I want to taste a little of both of you.”

Mira laughed. “Your mind, always in the gutter.”

“It was unintentional this time!” Zoey said in a loud whisper.

~~~~~

“…and then she ate and we talked about you.” Mira said. “Rumi admitted she was confused when she woke up and saw me home with no hickies.”

Zoey laughed from her spot on the couch. “Excuse me for being respectful of the girlfriend that actually lets skin show,” Zoey said. She raised an eyebrow and made a face at a dirty thought. “Rumi though…”

Mira smiled as she blew the steam off the cup. “She loves it too,” Mira added, her eyes flashing with something mischievous. Zoey grunted in response.

“We did clear up that our rules for hookups don’t apply to you. And the only request was that we text the other person when we’re staying together so we know where we are.” Mira said. “I’m sorry that—“

“Mira, if you apologize one more time for doing the right thing…” Zoey warned.

“I know, you just looked so devastated. It was hard to leave.” Mira said. “Plus you’re really cute when you sleep.”

Zoey smiled.

“So what are you going to do? About Rumi?”

Mira considered.

“It got really bad last time, but we were able to avoid a facility because I was able to be with her the whole time until things relaxed. I only let her work during specified times. I made sure she ate and she showered.” Mira said. “I got us out of the house.”

“Yesterday was a little bit of a fluke, not a full-fledged episode. The last time she hadn’t slept for three days and I didn’t know where she was for two of them. This time she just didn’t check her phone for twelve hours, which technically could happen to anyone.” Mira continued. “I don’t really want to treat it with the same magnitude but it’s not like I want to be states away in case something does happen.”

“It could be a blip, like your emotions last night. Just a little extra neurosis that needed venting.” Zoey said.

Mira nodded. She believed it to be true, especially since Rumi had been so upfront about it being a bad sign. Usually she’d be in denial that anything was wrong. Still…

“What if I stayed with her?” Zoey asked. “You’re back on Monday, right?

Mira looked at her.

“Zo, these sort of things go beyond the expectations of the first week of a relationship typically,” Mira said. “I don’t know if we should throw you into both of our mental health crises.”

“Hey Mira,” Zoey said, “What the fuck makes you think our relationship is typical?”

Mira blinked at her.

“Kind of offensive to suggest we’re normal, honestly,” Zoey said, giving Mira a side-eyed glance before taking a sip of her dirty chai for emphasis.

“I know you want to be there for Bobby. I know you want to make sure Rumi is safe. I know trusting me with Rumi is a big fucking deal, which you’ve already agreed to because you let me share her heart with you,” Zoey said. Her voice was serious.

“Plus, it’s two days until the weekend. She’ll probably be completely back to herself by then and me staying over is just a technicality and also a delight for me,” Zoey said, making her voice jovial again at the end.

They turned when they heard a noise.

“Miiiiiiiiirrrrraaaaa,” the voice called from farther inside the house.

“Want to go say hi?” Mira asked with a smile.

Zoey’s heart skipped a beat. She absolutely wanted to. The only thing she wanted to do was to bury herself in Rumi’s arms to feel reassured that Rumi didn’t hate her.

Mira led Zoey to the kitchen where Mira expertly and swiftly put together Rumi’s latte. Then Zoey followed Mira to the back of the house to a closed door. She knocked, and then popped her head in. Zoey couldn’t hear what Mira said but could hear Rumi’s delighted noises in response.

Rumi was propped up in the middle of the bed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. Zoey had never seen Rumi be anything other than totally alert, so seeing her with residual sleepiness was interesting. She looked soft but guarded like a skittish cat. The minute Rumi saw Zoey her smile widened though and she reached her arms out and opened and closed her hands.

Zoey looked to Mira.

“Outside clothes are okay, I’ll do laundry later.”

Mira took the handle of Zoey’s mug in two of the fingers that were holding her own mug. Zoey smiled in appreciation and then launched herself onto the bed and into Rumi’s arms.

“Hi girlfriend,” Rumi said.

“Hi girlfriend,” Zoey responded before reaching her chin up to kiss Rumi good morning.

Mira watched from the door, leaning against the door frame. She wouldn’t have been surprised if her eyes had turned into cartoon hearts.

“Come here, you,” Rumi said in Mira’s direction when Zoey and she had finished kissing. Mira smiled and sauntered over.

“Coffee first,” Mira said, and Rumi took the cup.

“Coffee before cuddles?” Zoey asked.

“You’ll thank me one day when you experience Rumi without coffee.” Mira said. Rumi passed her back the mug and Mira put all the mugs down on the counter. Then she pulled off her oversized hoodie and got into bed so she was on the opposite side of Rumi.

“How’d you sleep?” Mira asked.

“Well,” Rumi said. Then she looked at Zoey who was quietly observing her girlfriends. “Did you tell—“

Mira nodded. “She’s up-to-date.” Mira’s smiles were hesitant, her face unable to hide the lines of lingering concern. “How close do you feel to an episode?”

Rumi considered. “I’m hoping yesterday was a big enough shock. I feel like I can breathe today.”

Mira smiled at that. It was similar to how she felt yesterday after having cried around Zoey.

“I got your grading covered. We followed your rubric and I did some and then the rest are going to be handled by some of my students,” Mira said.

“Mir, your students are busy enough as it is. What did you promise them?” Rumi said, a knot of worry forming between her eyebrows.

“I’m going to work one-on-one with Tabitha next week in order to catch her up with her dissertation. And I’m going to do some babysitting.”

Rumi seemed satisfied enough with that solution.

“Let me help next time?” Zoey asked. Mira bent over and kissed her forehead.

“Absolutely, sweets. Sorry I didn’t invite you to help this time, it was a mad scramble and honestly I forgot that you’re also in this now.” Mira’s smile was soft, as if touching Zoey’s head had melted all her past worry away.

“What, you aren’t used to this after three days?” Zoey asked, mocking like she was unimpressed.

“I don’t know if I ever will,” Rumi said. “Like, pinch me.”

Both Mira and Zoey pinched her.

“Ow! You both follow directions too well,” Rumi said.

They all laughed.

They sat up a little more and drank some more of their respective caffeine.

“What are you drinking?” Rumi asked.

“The best dirty chai I’ve ever had,” Zoey said, letting her eyes flick to Mira to see her glow with the compliment.

“Yeah,” Mira said, giving the mischievous smile reserved for people that knew Mira intimately enough to see it. “She said she wanted to taste a little of both of us.”

Rumi’s eyebrows raised.

“No, now, listen,” Zoey said, backpedalling. “That one was completely unintentional I swear.”

Rumi reached across Mira to put her mug down before turning to Zoey.

***

“Oh so you don’t want a taste of the two of us?” Rumi asked.

Zoey grew quiet and still.

“I didn’t say that,” she said, sitting straight so she and Rumi were facing.

“I do think we need to make it up to Zoey for forgetting to readjust our sleeping arrangement expectations,” Mira said, making Rumi nod her head slowly in agreement. “Show her how sorry we are.”

Mira’s hand grasped the top of Zoey’s mug and took it from her without Zoey noticing.

When Zoey and Rumi kissed it looked like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Rumi was still sleepy and soft and Zoey melted into her, pushing her body into Rumi’s. Rumi giggled as their lips parted and then Zoey bit her bottom lip. Then the giggle stopped. Mira laughed when Rumi pounced on Zoey, pinning her to the bed beneath.

“Let her breathe,” Mira said before pulling Rumi’s chin up until their faces met. “She didn’t know that was one of your go-buttons.”

Zoey loved this angle, them kissing above her. It gave her ideas.

Zoey did catch her breath, and started to get up. Mira pressed her back down without looking at her or stopping her kiss with Rumi. Zoey made a tutting sound.

Mira smiled at Rumi.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you,” Rumi whispered back.

Then Mira turned her gaze on Zoey, still stuck under Mira’s hand.

Mira descended to kiss Zoey. She could hear Rumi’s gleeful squeal and it made both her and Mira smile. Mira was an artful kisser when she wasn’t surprise-attacking girls against doors. Their rhythm was hot and wanting. Zoey let a groan out to inform all parties that she was getting turned on to the point of frustration.

Then she felt Rumi’s mouth on her neck. It started soft at first, a single kiss. Then a pair of kisses. Then constant kisses, her lips and tongue running up and down her neck. Then a cold hand under her shirt.

Mira smiled when Zoey gave a full body shiver. She opened her eyes to glance down at her wife and the mischief she was starting.

“Maybe we should stop, since you’re supposed to be resting,” Mira said, her lips still on Zoey’s.

“This is resting, I’m resting,” Rumi said. “Look at how restful this is.”

Mira laughed and pulled herself off of Zoey to observe a moment.

“Do you want to stop, sweets?” Mira asked.

Zoey looked up at Mira with a look reserved for being rudely awakened.

“No, let Rumi rest how she wants to rest,” Zoey said.

Mira rolled her eyes with a smile and Rumi rewarded Zoey for taking her side by taking her own shirt off.

“Wow,” Zoey whispered, a hand snapping up to grasp Rumi’s bicep.

Rumi’s patterns were even more beautiful than she could fathom. They were one large distinct piece coasting across her chest, over her arms and down her sides. And since Rumi had just woken up from bed Zoey was seeing her in full bra-less glory. Zoey let her hands trace over the patterns all the way to where they danced around Rumi’s nipple.

“You’re so beautiful, Rumi,” Zoey whispered, palming Rumi’s breast.

Mira was vibrating with how much she was loving watching her girlfriend touch her wife.

“I could cum from happiness,” Mira added, and they all laughed.

Zoey’s daze broken, she lifted herself up to kiss Rumi and this time she wasn’t stopped by Mira’s hand. Instead Mira got behind Zoey and grabbed her breasts over her clothes, then wasted no time putting one hand down into her shirt via her neckline and one on her thigh going slowly up.

Zoey could hardly handle how good it felt, kissing and touching Rumi, being touched by Mira.

She moaned when Mira and Rumi both went for her neck again. Mira’s hands got closer to their destination.

Rumi slowly unbuttoned Zoey’s shirt, kissing Mira’s arm and Zoey’s chest around it as more and more was revealed. Zoey was being greedy with Rumi’s chest. Now that she finally had it she wasn’t letting go.

One of Mira’s hands had reached into Zoey’s bra and was now gently playing with the stud that only Mira knew was there. Zoey had a feeling Rumi would know soon as well. Mira’s other hand had reached her waistband and was daring to slip under her buttoned pants.

“I’m so wet for you, Zoey,” Rumi said into her ear. Zoey moaned again and pulled Rumi up so Zoey could get her mouth on Rumi’s incredible breasts.

Mira’s hand was combing through her pubic hair achingly slowly.

“Mira, please—“

***

Zoey’s phone alarm blared like a bomb warning.

Everyone froze and it took a moment for Zoey to realize what it was.

“FUCK!”

Zoey pushed away from their hands and walked over to the phone she left with her bag in the doorway, grumbling about how the slickness between her legs lubricated her walk.

Zoey picked up the phone and stopped the alarm. Then she sighed and inhaled before turning back to them.

“I have a lecture,” Zoey said. She could tell Mira and Rumi had catastrophized and thought it was something else. They were amused that it was something as innocent as that.

Zoey stomped her foot in frustration. “I’ve never wanted to quit my job more!”

Mira laughed at how cute it was that Zoey was throwing a sex-induced temper tantrum.

“Yeah too bad we definitely won’t ever do this again,” Mira added to tease.

Rumi was being kinder. She got up and walked over and gave Zoey a hug and a kiss on the top of her head.

“That was fun,” Rumi said. “We will be doing that again, and it will be even better. Don’t be late for class.”

She kissed Zoey until Mira joined behind her. Mira bent down and kissed her too.

“I’m sorry Zo, it sucks.”

Zoey felt better. She looked up at them, trying her hardest to avoid looking at Rumi’s bare chest like she wanted to, before picking up her bag.

She sighed. “I guess you’ll just have to finish what we started without me,” she said with a wink. “Mira has another hour until she leaves for her lecture so you better hop to it.”

Then she turned and she left before she could kiss them more.

~~~~~

Zoey was smart enough to wait until after class to check her text messages.

Mira:

How was lecture?

Zoey:

I’ve never been so wet before a class.

Rumi:

Really? You should expect to be wet for all lectures from now on 👀

Mira:

Rumi give the girl a break

Rumi:

I don’t think I will. Zoey, do you want a picture?

Zoey let her bubble pop up and disappear a couple times.

Zoey:

I’m alone. Send me one pretty please.

Mira:

Rumi, we haven't even talked about sexting yet. You of all of us have to be the most careful bc of your tats

Zoey yelped when the picture loaded. It was a close up of Rumi’s breast with a Mira-sized bite mark on it. Rumi’s face wasn’t in view but her tattoos were prominent.

Rumi:

What were you saying, Mir?

Mira’s bubble went up and down. Zoey’s went up and down as well.

Mira:

I can’t remember. No thoughts just… wow. (And we will have a more structured convo later)

Zoey:

I can’t wait to give you a bite of my own to match

Mira:

Was that to me or Rumi?

Zoey:

Yes.

Chapter Text

The class laughed. Celine leaned back against the front desk, breathing in the attention. She smiled across the lecture hall. It was her favorite, the one that hadn’t been remodeled to have ample plugs for electronics at each desk. She rarely lost students’ attention regardless, but she liked the added environmental factor.

“Why do they say religious people are happier?” Celine asked.

A hand raised. Celine reminded herself of the mental notes she had on this student. Beauregard ‘Boise’ Billings IV. Sports medicine major, psychology minor. Turns his items in early, but could do a better job proofreading.

“Yes, Idaho,” snickers spread from his friends in the class. Celine didn’t do it for his friends though, she did it for the smile that crept over Boise’s face.

“They could be lying?” Boise answered.

“Possible,” Celine agreed. “Research methodology is not fool-proof, one could skew results. For the purpose of my question though, let’s pretend the study is accurate. Anyone?”

A moment passed. Then a hand on the opposite side of the room.

A young woman, Polly Weinsfeld. Psychology and Sociology double major. One of the only students in the class Celine could possibly bore. Celine reminded herself to mention internships as a research fellow to Polly next they spoke.

“Future Professor Weinsfeld,” Celine called. Polly allowed an inevitable smile to bloom on her face. Celine watched in the corner of her eye as some of her students that were struggling the most in her class took note Polly. They probably would ask her for help before their next exam.

“Seventh Day Adventists and Jewish people that practice Shabbat both value walking,” she said.

“Oh, a unique perspective. An inclination for physical activity as part of their faith. Endorphins coming from working out. I like it. What else?”

Roger Hamilton, film major that should change majors. “Community?”

Celine nodded. “Lower rates of loneliness, good.”

Kate Appleton. Just needed the credits to remain a full-time student for her financial aid-- so she claims-- despite participating in discussion for every class. “Purpose?”

Celine stood and walked a couple steps closer to her rapt audience.

“Purpose. An understanding of their role in life. Answers to otherwise unanswered questions. What was I put on this earth to do?” Celine softened her voice to drive the point home. You could hear a pin drop.

“Well done, class,” Celine said with one of her 100-watt smiles. She delighted in seeing the pink rush to some faces. She turned to go back to the chalkboard.

“Stress,” a voice called.

Celine froze with her chalk an inch from the board and slowly turned. She scanned the seats until she found the source. Standing at the top of the hall by the exit, leaning against the wall, was a beautiful woman. She was wearing the yellow sundress Celine loved but always thought made her look more like a student than a professor. Her long black braid was pulled over her shoulder so it hung down her front. Her light brown eyes said more than the single word she said.

“Class, who is our guest?”

“Professor Mi-yeong Cho, Anthropology.”

Aaliyah Thompson answered without raising her hand. Celine knew she was one of the Mi-yeong's favorite students. They loved to talk about their students-- who they loved, who they abhorred, who they hoped would fall in love. Mi-yeong loved Aaliyah because of the look Aaliyah got when she connected concepts in her brain. She was not as naturally gifted with intellect as some students but she possessed a sense of wonder only comparable to Mi-yeong's herself. It made Celine love her too.

Celine smiled wider. It was as if the students had all disappeared.

“Well then Professor Mi-yeong Cho, Anthropology.” Smiles in the audience got bigger. “Please, explain yourself.”

“There’s this saying,” Mi-yeong said in her melodic voice that made Celine’s breath catch, projecting for all to hear. Mi-yeong started descending the stairs. “‘Give it to God.’”

She paused for dramatic effect, and Celine could feel her heart beat in her chest.

“Heathens like us don’t have a god to give our worries to,” Mi-yeong continued, breaking Celine’s eye contact to witness how her spell was working on the students as well. “Makes me a little jealous, considering. We have to hold our stress ourselves.”

At the final word Mi-yeong sat in the empty first chair in the front row and crossed her legs, turning her attention back to Celine.

“There you have it, class,” Celine said, forgetting to project for a moment before loudening her voice once again. “If you don’t have a god, who are you giving your stress to?”

~~~~~

“I’m sorry,” Celine said with the politest smile she could manage. “I don’t want to waste your time.”

She stood from the couch and grabbed her bag.

“Why do you think you’ll waste my time?” The man asked simply.

Celine sighed. “Look, you seem very nice. But honestly, nice isn’t really what I need. I’ve convinced many therapists before you that I’m fine and my life is peachy, and I–”

The man donned a sly smile.

“So you think you’ll intellectualize your feelings and placate me by convincing me that you’re actually fine.”

Celine looked down at him in his winged arm chair. Her bag was still snug over her shoulder and she gripped it a little tighter.

“Honestly, yes.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been in my seat?” He asked.

Celine raised an eyebrow.

“I have the internet, and you did put your honorific on the intake form,” He said, causing the eyebrow to sink again. “Dr. Celine Kim”

She stopped seeing clients when she adopted Rumi. She looked at the door, then the floor.

“Twenty-six years.”

“I don’t know if you felt this way but I have always stood by the belief that anyone who walks through that door is not fine.”

She looked at the door again, and then at the man.

He was young. Not more than 30, probably less. His face was round and his beard was patchy and he looked more like a middle schooler than an adult in his polo shirt and slacks. 

There was something in his eye contact though. Something sitting there, like an evaluation mixed with a secret he was begging to share.

Celine sat back down.

~~~~~

“Thank you for opening a slot for me, Theo,” Celine said. She had insisted on calling him Dr. Callaway for several months when they first started. Every session Theo requested she use his first name. It was a big day when she finally resigned to his request.

He usually started talking out the gate, but today Celine sat in his silence as she settled into the couch. She was shaking slightly and was tired from not sleeping a wink the night before.

“I’m– I’m going to have to leave my phone and ringer on.”

His face stayed neutral but his eyes softened. He gave a slight nod.

“Rumi had an episode last night.” She said. “I don’t know if she’s been having them recently, I don’t know if Mira would tell me if she had. And Rumi and I are cordial at weekly dinners but otherwise we haven’t talked much since–”

“Since last year,” Theo said. Celine nodded. How was she this close to crying already?

Celine explained what happened. She started with how happy she was to spend time with Mira, to feel their relationship recover and grow slowly every time they had positive experiences together. She explained the look on Mira’s face when she turned her phone back on after the film and the notifications on the phone buzzed endlessly. She explained how they went to the house, then the Lowe’s where Rumi’s phone had last been tracked. The way they got out of the car and looked for signs of broken glass or a car accident. The way they both called local hospitals looking for her.

“I’ve never hated HIPAA more,” She said, allowing herself a little laugh.

“But you did find her,” Theo predicted.

“I thought she’d be in the library. It’s 24-hours and she would go there a lot in undergrad. It was usually the first place I looked when I hadn’t heard from her.”

She remembered the first time she had dinner with Rumi and Mira together, the way Rumi recounted the story of she and Mira meeting. The way Mira laughed about Rumi waking up disoriented in the library. The way she looked at Rumi like she was carefree. All of the context she was missing. Celine didn’t know they were dating at the time. Rumi probably didn’t know either, honestly. Mira had become attached to Rumi in the way that many different people had over the course of Rumi’s life. No one had ever captured Rumi’s attention the way Rumi captured others. Until Mira.

Rumi was committed to a facility for the first time three weeks after that.

Celine told Theo the rest of the story.

“Is it possible that she did just lose track of time?” Theo asked.

Celine shifted in her seat. She frowned. She ran a hand through her hair. She considered picking at the angry spot on her thumb.

“It’s progress, Celine. You coming here instead of jumping to action. You trusting that Mira would take care of it.”

“I simply don’t see why I can’t also take care of her,” Celine snarled.

“Sometimes inaction is care,” Theo said. “You can’t prove that to yourself because you can’t see the effect because you aren’t there. Which is kind of the point. It’s an exercise in trust all around: trust in Rumi to manage her mental illness, trust in Mira to be there for her, trust in yourself to be able to loosen the reins, trust in them that they will come to you if they needed you.”

Celine frowned more. Theo’s logic wasn’t validating what she wanted to hear.

“Mira could have had you take her home. She could have found Rumi on her own,” Theo said. “I don’t know if you’ve accepted the fact that Mira’s behavior of bringing you along is progress.”

Celine exhaled through her nose.

“My body feels like it’s on fire,” she whispered.

Theo waited.

“I want to pick,” Celine said, letting her eyes drift back to her thumb.

Theo was still silent.

She looked up at him, expecting encouragement or a chastising word or even simply some coaching. Still he waited.

“Can I… have a glove,” she asked finally.

Theo smiled and reached into the drawer of the table beside his chair and threw her a pair of white cotton gloves.

~~~~~

Rumi was eleven when Celine first saw the darkness in her eyes.

She couldn’t remember if there was an inciting incident.

She did remember Rumi saying she didn’t care about her toys.

She remembered the way Rumi said she didn’t have any friends, despite all evidence to the contrary.

She remembered the way Rumi lashed out at Celine, and cried, and slammed doors, and at the end of it all would sleep for a full day.

Sometimes Celine would look at Rumi and catch glimpses of someone else entirely. She’d see a braid but darker hair, curled up in a ball on the bed. She saw the catatonia of someone devoid of interest or joy even with a babbling baby close by. She saw the way Mi-yeong screamed and cried as if the darkness in her body was trying to consume her from the inside.

~~~~~

She’d never seen Rumi so happy.

Rumi spun quickly in the mirror, making sure everything was in place. Her vest and pants looked dashing, even though Celine hated the outlines of the new tattoos. She didn’t hold tight to that disappointment though. Hard to want to modify anything when Rumi was smiling this big.

“She wouldn’t show me a picture of her dress,” Rumi said. “She’s all high and mighty about breaking norms but then she wants to get married and she wants to wear a dress.”

Her words came out excited like she was going to break into a giggle at any moment at the mere thought of her soon-to-be wife. A warmth spread in Celine’s chest, and something about Mira was being rewritten in her mind.

Tamara entered the dressing room and she and Rumi shared a squeal. Tamara gave a small “Hello Aunt Cece,” before giving her entire attention back to Rumi and her excitement.

Celine excused herself to go check on the arrangements.

Celine had hired the best wedding planner in the city so she wasn’t privy to any of the details for once. She scanned the room expecting to be disappointed with the result but alas she wasn’t. Everything was beautiful. Soft pink carnations and lavender were on each of the tables. The place settings were elegant. The decorations around the room were bright and lovely. She’d been informed by the planner that Mira had combed through every detail to make sure everything was perfect for Rumi. It’s what Celine would have done too.

She stood at the seating chart and reviewed. She saw her name at the family’s table– Rumi, Mira, Dick, Dick’s husband Evan, and herself.

Celine’s heart dropped. She scanned the rest of the chart. She looked around at the room. The only other person around was Dick, who was talking to the DJ.

“Excuse me, Dick,” Celine asked, pulling him away from his conversation. His face lit up in surprise, then apprehension, then a soft openness.

“Cece, you did a wonderful job finding this planner. Everything is gorgeous.” He said, speaking less than Celine knew him to usually. I guess a couple decades of awkwardness would do that to a conversation between old friends.

“I hear we actually have Mira to thank, she made all the beautiful choices,” She said, looking around to show her admiration.

“I think Rumi made the most important choice,” He said.

He was right, and he was being kind. He was speaking to his old friend, the adoptive mother of his niece. Rumi did right by choosing Mira.

Celine nodded.

“Speaking of, I couldn’t tell where Mira’s family was sitting,” she said.

His face told her all she needed to know. At this point she knew a lot about her future daughter-in-law. She had eaten the delightful meals Mira cooked. They had spoken in French, and laughed at the ways in which Mira’s proper formal French didn’t match Celine’s Canadian French. They laughed together when Rumi would huff at feeling left out of the conversation, and Mira would tease her about her choice to be fluent in Spanish. Despite the playful teasing, Celine knew Mira never said a bad word about Rumi in any language. 

More importantly, they pushed each other. When Rumi was struggling to publish, Celine had come to their office to offer her own version of an inspirational speech and walked right into Mira giving Rumi one. Mira’s was better than what Celine had planned to say.

Celine’s relationship with Mira one-on-one was turbulent though, to say the least. Celine didn’t like the idea of a 30-year-old leading the department’s most award-winning program. She thought Mira showed too much skin at her lectures and wished she would sit in a goddamn chair once in a while. Plus, Celine was never off the hook in meetings. If Mira was in the meeting there would be a discussion and usually a heated disagreement with sources that Mira somehow could pull out of her brain and quote perfectly.

The only thing they agreed on whole-heartedly was Rumi. Rumi was the only thing that really mattered anyway.

Celine thanked Dick for the explanation and walked off towards her soon to be daughter-in-law’s dressing room.

~~~~~

When the wedding ceremony began, Celine let Evan and Tamara stand on Rumi’s side of the altar. Celine moved to be on Mira’s side and held her hand as they both cried at how gorgeous Rumi was walking down the aisle.

~~~~~

Celine put the bright yellow lilies in the vase in front of the gravestone. She filled the vase with the water bottle she had brought. Then she sat beside the headstone on her knees.

"Hello, my love," she said. It was what Mi-yeong had said everyday when Celine got home. Used to say.

Immediately she started bawling. She let herself catch some breath before she spoke.

"I miss you."

"I miss Sunwoo too. I wish I could fight with him one last time. I wish I'd said I loved him more."

"He should be here with you."

"I can't believe his parents took him. They weren't even speaking. They didn't even love him. Not as much as we loved him. Never as much."

"I'm so mad at myself. I should have pushed for you both to get married. You both were so sweet to say no because of me but if you'd married--"

A sob broke through, a pained wail.

"He'd be here with you."

When her crying finally stopped, she continued.

"I'm worried about Rumi."

"I-I yelled at her, Mi-yeong. Our baby."

"I won't anymore. I promise. I'll do better. I'll keep it tucked away."

"I can't let her childhood be ruined by me. By who I've become."

"I'll do whatever I can to make you proud. She's going to be such a powerful young lady. She will achieve everything and anything she can set her mind to."

Celine hadn't realized she was crying again until she felt the tears on the back of the hands she set on her knees.

"How did this happen."

"You and Sunwoo were always the most natural parents. You just had this instinct."

"I don't have that. God, why must Rumi be cursed with me?"

"She's so good, Mi-yeong. She's got your heart and Sunwoo's sense for justice."

"What will she inherit from me? My sadness, my pain?"

Celine used the butt of her hands to wipe the wetness from her eyes.

"I won't let her, Mi-yeong. I won't."

~~~~~

“I don’t understand,” Celine said at the head of the conference table. “Help me understand.”

“Fortunately, we aren’t required to do that, Celine,” A professor of engineering said. “As you know the tenure council would usually consult the department’s dean but in this scenario we are not required to.”

“What scenario?” Celine asked, feigning dumb.

“The one in which you’re related to the subject.” A professor of political science added.

“Whether she’s related to me or not does not change her qualifications, professor rating, or success rates. She falls far above our standard for tenure.” Celine raised an eyebrow and dared anyone at the table to protest.

“Yes, too qualified. And only on paper. She has not published in two years, she has not contributed much to the department as a whole.”

“What about the students she’s contributed to the department? Our number of students declared in the behavioral sciences has doubled since she started teaching here. In only five years.”

“We can’t tie that to her with certainty.”

“I think the data of how many students declare during and directly after taking her classes will speak volumes,” Celine practically growls. “I will not lose such an excellent professor in my department. If she does not get tenure we will lose her. She will be forced to go elsewhere.”

“I doubt she will,” another professor adds. “She has personal connections to this campus. Likelihood is we can decide not to give her tenure and she will still stay.”

“So you are admitting that you’d rather not give her tenure because it could save the organization money since you don’t think she’ll leave anyway.” Celine huffed. “What a blatant admission of wage theft. She deserves tenure and has done plenty to prove it. She would have had it already if we weren’t related, and I am confused as to why this council is finding it difficult to grant her tenure. Is it a personal attack on me?”

“I personally disagree with your decision to have hired your niece right out of grad school,” the chair of the council and Vice President of the University spoke up. “But besides that point, it boils down to this: we have stronger candidates. We are reviewing much more experienced professors who have taught at multiple universities and have contributed far more to the development of their departments. Dr. Cho is talented, yes, but she has only ever studied from and taught here at this university. She has not proposed anything to improve your department. We need more diverse experience and greater involvement from our tenured professors.”

Celine sat and tried to come up with something she could say that would still be professional.

“Now, I will forgive your uncharacteristic outburst considering I have never seen you act like this before,” The Vice President said. “We will move on. The next professor for behavioral sciences is…”

~~~~~

“Why did you hire Rumi?” Theo asked.

She looked up at him, and waited for him to explain.

“Based on everything I’ve learned about you I would expect unethical decisions to be a hard-drawn line. Nepotism tends to be an HR nightmare, and you knew this.”

“She’s an excellent professor,” Celine said. “I don’t regret bringing her into the department.”

“Okay, see, I don’t believe for a second that the reason you hired her is only because of her skills as an instructor.”

Celine didn’t want to fight Theo today. She was tired from the stress of the tenure decisions.

“Do you often find that decisions regarding Rumi fall outside your typical pattern of decision making?”

Celine shot a look at Theo, a warning. Theo wasn’t affected at all.

“Could your decision to hire her be related to your desire to keep her close,” Theo asked gently. He showed no signs of relenting.

“Theo…” She began.

“Do we feel like it’s tied to your feelings of grief and abandonment at all? Maybe you don’t want to lose her like you lost–”

“They died. It’s different.” She said, and she was glad that stopped him momentarily.

Him staring at her was worse, however. Then he opened his mouth.

“Have you ever feared that Rumi would die and leave you too?”

Celine slammed the door on the way out, time still remaining in her session.

~~~~~

Celine noticed a significant uptick in requests for Mira to speak at engagements after Mira became head of the department. An organizer would email Mira and CC the dean of her department as professional courtesy. Celine should have been excited for Mira, or the program, or the department. However, the only thing she could think about was Rumi being alone while Mira was in a different state.

She closed her email when she heard the knock on her door.

“Come in,” She said. 

A young woman with wavy shoulder-length black hair and a pantsuit entered and put her hand out in Celine’s direction.

“Dean Kim it’s so nice to meet you, I’m Zoey Yoo.”

Celine gave a professional smile and shook Zoey’s hand, pleased at the strength that Zoey returned in the handshake.

Zoey was bright, both in cleverness and in the way she lit up the room. She wove anecdotes and small jokes into her interview answers. She seemed awake and alive despite having just flown 19 hours. She seemed responsible, and caring, and her passion for the study of gerontology was evident in everything she said.

The thing that sold it for Celine though was that Zoey was like Tamara, or Rumi’s friend Nadia. She was chipper and encouraging. Rumi would like her.

Zoey wasn’t nearly as academically accomplished as other professors in the organization. Her salary would work well for the department’s budget, and she would have no reason to be out of state for long periods of time during the semester.

~~~~~

“So you put the new professor in the office with Rumi and Mira,” Theo said.

It had been several months since she’d stormed out of his office. He hadn’t looked surprised when she had shown up at her normal time the following week.

“How did you feel when she requested a change in office?” Theo asked.

“Panicked,” Celine said.

“Why?”

“Because Rumi may have lost a friend,” Celine said. “That’s stressful.”

“Did you feel anything about Zoey’s experience at all?”

“No,” Celine admitted, putting her head in her hands.

“Do you interpret every possible stress in Rumi’s life as this dangerous?” Theo asked. Celine knew he knew the answer already.

“You said you put her in the office because of Mira’s speaking engagements,” Theo said.

“Yes,” Celine agreed.

“How did Rumi do in the office with Mira gone?”

Celine had to think about it. Mira had always been at family dinner. She never needed coverage for her lectures. How had Celine not noticed before?

Celine never saw Mira respond to any of the requests via email, but Celine imagined it was because Mira took her off CC.

Later that night Celine opened a bottle of wine and her laptop. She found one of the emails. It was from a university in Seattle. They had invited Mira to guest teach a lecture.

Celine used to get these emails when she was a professor. The inquiring school would pay for a nice hotel room and her food and she’d teach a lecture and then they’d try to convince her to come be a professor at their university. She’d liked the lecture part and hated everything else.

Mira would too.

Celine opened her search browser and started searching for an announcement of the guest lecture for that university on the proposed date.

When she found it, Celine was surprised. It wasn’t Mira but it was someone she recognized. She couldn’t quite remember their name. She clicked through until the bio came up and she skimmed it.

“Dr. Cameron Mittlesburg is a professor at … They got their doctorate from the Gender and Sexuality Studies program under Dr. Mira Hong.”

This was a student Celine remembered from a couple years ago. Cameron had green hair then. They always smiled and waved at Celine when they passed each other in the halls.

Celine checked another engagement. Another bio. Another former student of Mira’s.

Then another.

Then another.

Half of Celine’s mind was upset that Mira was missing opportunities to show how excellent her own program was. The other was glad she hadn’t left Rumi alone.

Why would she? Mira didn’t want to be shmoozed and have to go through the time-share-like conversation about why she should teach at a new school. Mira wouldn’t teach at any other school. No other school had Rumi.

~~~~~

“You love her TOO MUCH,” Mira shouted. “You’re hurting her.” 

The last word cracked in Mira’s voice but Celine saw that Mira caught it before it became tears. Mira's eyes flashed to where the tissue box sat on Celine's coffee table.

“You’re letting her have too much freedom!” Celine shouted back. “She needs–”

“She doesn’t need this!” Mira said, arms and eyes wide. Celine had never seen Mira so worked up before.

“I’m doing it to protect her. I can’t believe you, of all people, don’t get that,” she said. “This man– do you not care that they were hiding this from you, that she was cheating on you?”

“She–”

“You, of all people! You who have given everything and worked so hard and taken such good care of her, how are you not pissed at her about–”

“She loves him, Celine!”

Celine stopped.

“She loves him. And I knew, the whole time.” Mira said. “You of all people should have stopped and considered–”

Celine had raised a hand and closed her eyes. Mira stopped out of surprise.

“One love is devastating enough,” she replied. “She’s not strong enough to–”

“The only thing keeping her weak,” Mira said, a finger inches from Celine’s face. “Is you.”

The framed pictures of Rumi shook on the walls when the door slammed.

~~~~~

Celine knocked again. The door opened, and Celine froze. She’d hoped it would be Dick who opened the door.

“Hi, Evan. Uh, is–”

Evan put a hand on each of Celine’s arms and pulled her into a hug. It was enough of a shock that Celine couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

After a couple minutes Evan whispered, “We have the grandbabies tonight, could you cry a little softer?”

Celine laughed and quieted to a whine. Evan pulled Celine into the dining room and got her a glass of water and a glass of wine. Then he sat and held her hand until Dick arrived. He had spit-up on his shirt and a terrycloth towel over his shoulder. He didn’t seem surprised to see Celine one bit.

“I’m going to wash my hands, I’ll be right back.”

Dick brought a tissue box back with him.

They all sat for a moment.

“I fucked up,” Celine said.

“Which time,” Evan asked, and Dick elbowed him hard.

“Ignore his bitchiness, he can’t help himself,” Dick said. “Tell us what’s up.”

Dick was listening to Celine but wasn’t showing the warmth he usually did whenever they saw each other. The warmth that was hopeful and inviting, as if Celine could walk back into their friendship whenever she wanted. 

“I didn’t know. My mind jumped to him taking advantage of her. She’s so beautiful and brilliant, and I thought she was cheating on Mira,” Celine sobbed more, covering her mouth to keep her decibels from rising. “I–I didn’t–”

“You didn’t know it was love,” Evan said. “Genuine love. And that Mira knew and was okay with it.”

“Ironic,” Dick said in a neutral voice. Evan elbowed him this time.

“I knowwwww,” Celine sobbed.

“So you started an investigation against him and now Rumi’s reputation and Jinu’s future is on the line,” Dick said.

Celine nodded. “Dick, I know he’s your student. I’m so–”

“I could have made that mistake,” Dick said. Evan turned to look at him, mouth agape. “If it were Tamara, and I caught some man kissing her when I knew she had a wife. A wife that I already loved as a daughter.”

Celine didn’t know how to process this information, this mercy.

“Cece,” Dick said. She missed hearing him say her name. He took both of her hands in his and Evan moved to rubbing circles in her back.

“I will help you out of this. But I’m telling you, you need to get some professional help. We have given you space like you asked and we have always said we are here. But you have a pattern of letting your emotions dictate your decisions. It’s unhealthy and it’s harming others.”

“Damn, Dickey,” She said softly, straightening her back to show she listened and was taking it seriously.

“I will put in a good word for you to Rumi only after you’ve had at least five sessions with a professional. I don’t care which one as long as they agree you need to work on things.”

On hearing Rumi's name Celine cried again. “She’s in a facility right now,” Celine said.

Evan and Dick looked at each other and then back to Celine. She filled them in on everything: Rumi’s childhood depression, her detrimental perfectionism, the way they couldn’t find her for two days and the way the facility had to induce sleep. They listened through the whole thing.

Eventually they had to stop because a baby was crying, and Evan wandered off to check on the little nugget.

“I’m so sorry, Dick,” she said. “For everything. For all these years–”

“I miss her too,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine losing both of them. When they passed I had Evan. I wish you could have leaned on me more.”

“I would have been better for it,” Celine said.

“It’s never too late, Celine.”

Evan reappeared with a baby cradled over his shoulder.

“This is Lewis,” Evan said. “Do you want to hold him, get some baby endorphins?”

Celine nearly started crying again at the mere suggestion.

~~~~~

“Mira,” Celine said.

Mira turned on the bridge overlooking the river so she was looking at Celine. Celine stayed still and quiet.

Mira stepped forward and hugged Celine with a quick squeeze. Her body was tense but warm. Celine could tell that the hug was a courtesy-- not one Mira wanted to give freely but did give because strategically she wanted them to move through this together.

“How…how is she?” Celine asked.

“She’s getting stronger everyday,” Mira said. “This is her first time alone since getting out actually.”

Celine squirmed a little where she stood. She picked at her thumb.

“I don’t know how I come back from this, honestly. I know Dick said it was the best idea that he leave. I feel like such–” Celine let a tear fall. “Point is, I don’t know what to do.”

Mira let the silence hang as she observed Celine and the remorse evident on her face.

“Come over for dinner,” Mira said. “It will be uncomfortable and we will only talk about subjects that have nothing to do with productivity but it’ll help her get used to having you around again.”

“What if she doesn’t want me around?”

“She does.”

~~~~~

***

For once, she wished she and Mi-yeong weren’t so popular. The students lingered, and Celine kept flicking her eyes to the clock. Mi-yeong kept flicking her eyes to Celine over students’ shoulders, which was not helping.

Finally they all left, and Celine grabbed her bag to follow students to the door.

Another benefit to the retro lecture hall: locking doors.

The latch clicked and Celine put her bag down. She took her blazer off and put it over the back of a chair. All of this she did while smiling and looking at Mi-yeong, and Mi-yeong smiled and looked back.

Finally Mi-yeong held out her hand, and Celine took it. Mi-yeong led her back down the stairs to the professor’s desk in front where she leaned back against it before pulling Celine forward to her.

They hadn’t seen each other in a full two hours.

Their kiss felt like a firework, gaining height and anticipation before exploding.

“You missed me that much, huh?” Celine said, her teasing voice making Mi-yeong growl.

“You’re just so sexy when you get all cocky in the front of a classroom. You eat up the attention. It’s very hot.”

“Not as hot as you interrupting me,” Celine says.

“Oh we know how much you like being interrupted,” Mi-yeong said, pushing a hand past where Celine's shirt was folded into her slacks. Celine gasped in delighted surprise.

“Oh you’re naughty. What will the Dean say?” Celine asked.

“Fuck the Dean,” Mi-yeong said in a commanding voice as she flicked her fingers up and made Celine’s knees go weak enough that she dipped below Mi-yeong’s height for a minute. 

“Mimi, fuck.” Celine said. Mi-yeong was the only person in her life that was allowed to tell her what to do. And boy did Mi-yeong know just what to do to her.

Celine went to pull the straps down off of her yellow dress but Mi-yeong pulled Celine’s pubic hair to get her to stop her approach.

“Just you right now,” she said. Celine let out a pathetic sounding whine. Mi-yeong’s eyes flashed with delight. Mi-yeong directed Celine to switch positions with her so Celine could lean back against the desk and anchor herself with white knuckles on the sides of the table.

Mi-yeong got closer to Celine so she could adjust her angle and get a finger into her lover.

“Fuck, Mimi, right there.”

Another finger.

Celine’s head hung back so her beautiful slightly curled hair sat patiently on the top of the desk. Then as orgasm approached her whole body tensed, her neck curled so her forehead could press against Mi-yeong’s.

“Mimi, please.”

Then the movement stopped.

Mi-yeong used her other hand to separate Celine’s pants from her navel a little more, giving her suddenly-still hand the space to come out without getting Celine’s slick on Celine’s clothes. She had to walk out of here looking presentable, after all.

Celine's chest was heaving when she opened her eyes.

“You’re fucking joking,” Celine huffed, trying to decide whether or not to be upset.

She finally looked up at Mi-yeong who put her fingers in her mouth and sucked. Celine pressed a hand over her pants at the mere sight.

“We,” Mi-yeong said, her voice still as low as moments prior. “Have a bed. And I’m hungry. I’m thinking…”

Mi-yeong started skipping up the steps of the lecture, leaving Celine still grasping the desk with her mouth hanging open.

“…Spit roast?”

Celine recoiled with the way her stomach dropped at the mere image. No matter which way they swung it, she and Sunwoo were in for a treat tonight. She immediately darted towards Mi-Yeong, who squealed with delight and made it out of the door before Celine could catch her.

***

~~~~~

Celine stood in the corner of the room.

Despite it being an operational hospital, at least they’d decorated it with actual furniture.

Rumi finally stirred, and Mira perked up from the chair she sat at beside the bed.

“Ruru, I’m here baby. I’m here, it’s okay.”

Rumi smiled at her voice. She reached a hand out and Mira caught it and kissed her palm.

“Mimi?”

~~~~~

The relief of the cotton glove on her hand was palpable. Even just not being able to see the spot made breathing a little easier.

“It sounds like you wish Mira and Rumi were more open and honest with you,” Theo said.

Celine nodded. She was so tired and felt so helpless. She didn’t have it in her to contradict Theo, especially in moments like these where he was right.

“You’ve made a lot of improvements this year. Your relationship with Mira has grown, you continue to offer to be there for Rumi in whatever capacity she needs,” Theo said. Celine prepared herself for what was coming after the compliment. “Do you—“

Theo hesitated. Theo never hesitated.

“When was the last time you felt like you were open and honest with Rumi? About anything.”

Celine thought.

“She was a sophomore. I told her about her other parents and me, and how we loved each other.”

“Had you been very open and honest with her before then?”

Celine shook her head.

“How did that conversation go?” Theo asked.

Celine rubbed her gloved hands together mindlessly, thinking back. Then she smiled. She missed that Rumi.

“Have you considered being open and honest with her again?” Theo said. “It can be small, it can be about anything.”

Celine shook her head.

“Do your daughters… do they know about your struggles as Dean?”

Celine shook her head.

“Have you ever talked to Rumi about her mother’s depression and how it affected you?”

Celine shook her head.

“How about this— do they know you’ve been coming here weekly for a year?”

Celine paused, and then shook her head.

“Why not?”

Celine sighed.

“It’s not for them to carry. I hide it all away so I can be there for them.”

“It sounds like carrying too much is usually what causes Rumi to have an episode. Does that sound correct?” Theo said. If he were a crueler person Celine could imagine him smiling at the way he set and snapped his trap.

Theo scooted to the end of his chair.

“When you hide your faults and fears, people are left wondering. Just like how you wonder if Rumi’s been well recently. She probably is also following your example of pushing any imperfection down.” Theo said. “If you value being her mother above all else, you may be surprised how powerful a little vulnerability could be. Lead by example.”

Celine sat still. Theo looked up at the clock, the tell-tale sign of the session coming to an end. She took the white gloves off and handed them back to Theo. She stood and gathered her things.

“Thank you, Theo,” Celine said. She didn’t want to promise any action. She had to think about everything more.

When Celine opened the door to the waiting room Theo called out to her.

“Back to our regular time next week?” Theo asked.

Celine raised an eyebrow in confusion before agreeing.

She turned back to the waiting room and—

A tall woman with pink hair was sitting there, looking up at her.

Mira stood up and they locked eye contact for a long beat.

Celine broke the eye contact and headed for the door. Mira caught her arm as she went to pass and Celine froze again.

Mira wrapped her arms around Celine’s shoulders and pressed her face into Celine’s hair. Celine wrapped her arms around Mira’s middle and gave her a squeeze.

When Celine backed away it was like she could suddenly see so much more than she could before. She saw the way Mira’s eyes were in bags under her gold rimmed glasses. She saw the flex of Mira’s jaw, the way her shoulders were a smidge closer to her ears from the tension she was holding. It was like Celine was looking into a mirror.

Celine smiled softly and cradled Mira’s face. Mira gasped and closed her eyes in response, a tear escaping. She pinched her eyebrows in response. She was trying to be strong.

“Shhh,” Celine said. “It’s okay.” She let the pad of her thumb break the trail of the tears and wipe the wetness across Mira’s cheek.

Celine placed a kiss on Mira’s forehead. She moved her hands back to Mira’s shoulders. Mira’s muscles were tighter than they were before. Celine breathed in audibly, and then just as loudly let the breath out. Celine felt Mira’s shoulders fall as she let in and out a few shaky breaths.

Mira’s eyes opened and met Celine’s again. Celine gave a tiny nod, searching Mira for any other signs of distress. Mira matched her nod, finished wiping her eyes, and proceeded into Theo’s office.

~~~~~

His office hadn’t changed at all. Well that wasn’t true, there was one big difference: the young professor at the desk opposite Dick’s.

“Hello Dick,” Celine said.

“Well, well, well,” Dick said, leaning back in his chair and looping his hands behind his head. “Look what cat got dragged in.”

Celine smiled and then heard a snicker from the opposite corner. She turned to see Zoey looking mortified with a hand over her mouth.

“Professor Yoo,” Celine said. “I’m surprised you’re in the office, your office hours aren’t until later if I remember correctly.”

Zoey sat up straighter.

“Yes, Dean Kim, I-I uh, I come in early to get some Dick time—“ Zoey’s eyes got wider. “I mean time with Dick! Catching up with my office mate.”

Celine chuckled to herself. She may not be the enigmatic professor she once was but at least she still had an effect like this on some of her charges.

“With that said!” Zoey said. She gathered her things and stood. As she walked towards the door she said, “I’m going to go hit the library.”

“Hope it doesn’t hit back,” Celine said, and Zoey froze.

Dick let out a roaring laugh and hit his hand on the desk, making a couple frames clatter to the floor.

Zoey blinked and offered a quarter-smile before finishing her journey out the door.

“I think I broke her,” Celine said with a smile.

Dick’s laugh died out and he gave her a look that made Celine pause for a second. She couldn’t read it exactly, but it seemed… nostalgic. Celine hadn't made any more attempts at bridging their relationship since showing up on his doorstep, but she smiled and waved at him when they passed each other now.

“What can I do you for, Celine?” He asked. Celine felt his eyes on her as she walked around and took in the room.

“I never thanked you for setting me up with Theo,” Celine said. “Did you set Mira and Rumi up with him too?”

Dick’s mouth became a thin line.

“I ran into Mira in the waiting room today. We both had emergency sessions because Rumi lost time for about 12 hours yesterday.”

His face relaxed. Celine wasn't baiting him for information, wasn't trying to trick him out of some desire to know something about Rumi.

“Is she okay?” Dick said, now sitting up straight.

“She’s stronger than she looks,” Celine said, more as a reminder to herself.

“If you did recommend him to them, thank you. Regardless, thank you for setting me up with him.” Celine said. She sat down in the chair across from Dick’s desk. “It’s been… helpful.”

“I used to work with him when I was doing that queer teen outreach program.” Dick said. “I figured if he could manage stubborn teenagers he could handle the three most stubborn people in my life.”

Celine smiled softly. She swallowed hard and prepared for what she had to say next.

“I have a lot of apologies to make to you, Dick. I haven’t earned your friendship back yet,” Celine said. She was unable to hold eye contact but she did continue to flick her eyes up to gauge his reaction. “But could I talk with you and we pretend we’re the same friends we were from before I fucked this up?“

“Wow,” Dick said, cutting her off. “Theo’s better than I thought.”

Celine exhaled and pulled her sleeve down over her left thumb.

“I never asked for help. And now Rumi actually psychologically can’t ask for help.” Celine said, the sentence coming out as a statement of fact.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Dick said. “And no, you aren’t an awful mother.”

Celine looked up at him.

“Is that what you need?” Dick asked. “Reassurance?”

As much as she wanted to say yes, it wasn’t why she was in his office.

“No, I… need to practice.” Celine said.

Dick smiled and nodded.

“I…” Celine’s mouth went dry. She exhaled and stood back up and paced. Finally words worked their way out of her head and through her mouth into the open air. “I’m scared of Rumi not getting tenure. And I’m scared because the University is trying to slowly cut Mira’s program. And if those two things happen then they might move away.”

Dick frowned empathetically.

“And I can’t lose them. I’ve already lost so much.”

Dick let her statement sit like a morning fog.

“But..?” Dick asked.

Celine’s eyes grew wide and she froze. She sat back down in the chair and let her body slump at his direct question.

“But… I’m losing her anyways.”

Dick have a short nod and a curt smile before gathering his thoughts.

“Kids… they’re… well for example. Scott moved to Minnesota and works on the holidays. We haven’t seen him or his wife for six months.” Dick said. “But he talks to us more than our other kids. He and Evan listen to albums together and send each other reviews. He calls me every Friday to catch up on how my week went.”

The corner of Celine’s mouth went up at the end at the thought of Scott willingly calling Dick and Evan. Celine and Mira had started their movie nights after Mira suggested it.

Celine and Rumi used to be so close. Up until grad school they would play board games at home and attend pottery classes and go to comedy shows. Then grad school, and Rumi being committed for the first time, and Mira, and then Jinu. Celine hadn’t connected much with Rumi since Celine had become her boss.

“Wait, what was that you said about Mira’s program?”

Celine woke up from zoning out and refocused on Dick.

“You know this administration, and how the board wants to align with our federal funding as much as possible.” Celine said. “When I received my budget this year it was only enough for Psychology, Sociology, and Anthropology. They’re hoping to bleed the program dry so it isn’t as prominent as it is now.”

“I guess not all press is good press,” Dick said, stroking his beard.

Celine nodded. “The better the program the bigger the target on its back.”

~~~~~

Celine closed the lid on the grill and looked up. 

She smiled and waved at Dick and Evan as they entered the back yard. Dick had a 24-pack of beer and Evan was carrying two bags of tortilla chips and a tub of his famous homemade guacamole.

They stopped beside the pool to catch up with Sunwoo and Mi-yeong, both sitting in sun chairs.

Dick pulled away from the group and walked over to Celine.

“Wow, Celine the grill daddy!” Dick said, and offered Celine an ice cold beer. They cracked their beers and cheers-ed before looking back at their partners. Evan and Sunwoo were doing some sort of impression of monkeys that was making Mi-Yeong give her bright and melodic laugh. God, that was Celine’s favorite sound.

“Look at those idiots,” Dick said.

“Our idiots,” Celine smiled.

Dick headed back over when Celine went back to tending to the grill.

She was finishing flipping the burgers when she felt arms wrap around her waist.

“Smells good,” Mi-yeong said into Celine’s hair.

“The burgers?” Celine asked.

“The burgers too,” Mi-yeong confirmed. Celine closed the lid and turned so she could wrap her arms around her partner.

Celine gasped.

“Did—?”

Mi-yeong giggled. “Yes! She kicked. She could feel her mommas.”

Celine’s smile got the biggest it possibly could, so big it hurt her face. She didn’t care.

“Hello little one,” Celine said, and she ducked to her knees so her face could rest against Mi-yeong’s blue sun dress.

“Did she kick?” Sunwoo said, wrapping his arms around Mi-yeong so his hands were on either side of Celine’s face on Mi-yeong’s belly. Celine liked how Mi-yeong always seemed to wear dresses that coordinated well with the colors of his tattoos.

“Yes, she did. She’s feisty,” Mi-yeong said.

“Like her moms,” Sunwoo said.

Both Celine and Mi-yeong made an offended noise.

“Yeah because you aren’t feisty at all!” Mi-yeong said.

“I’m jealous, Cece. She only kicks when you’re near.” Sunwoo said.

“It’s not my fault I’m her favorite,” Celine said, standing back up so she was facing Mi-yeong and Sunwoo’s face over her shoulder. “I’m her mom’s favorite too.”

Celine kissed Mi-yeong quickly before Mi-yeong could push her off in defense of Sunwoo. They all laughed and then Mi-yeong kissed them both.

“Burgers are done! Let’s eat!”

~~~~~

Celine checked to make sure the box of cake hadn’t been jostled too badly on the drive over. Luckily the frosting still looked perfect.

She walked up to the house and knocked.

After a couple minutes she knocked again. 

She held her ear to the door and smiled. There was music being blasted from inside. Celine pulled the spare from under the pot next to the door and let herself in.

She laughed at the song — ‘Just a Friend’ by Biz Markie. Sunwoo’s go-to karaoke song.

“Hey!” Celine called as she walked toward the kitchen. “I brought cake! Mira said she’d be out but I thought you and I could—“

Celine froze. So did Zoey.

Zoey, standing by the stove. Zoey, wearing one of Mira’s oversized shirts and a pair of Rumi’s shorts. Zoey, with a sizable bite on her collarbone. Zoey, looking totally petrified.

“Hey Zo, are you sure you don’t want to order—“

Rumi came around the corner and then froze. Her eyes went wide.

“Celine?”

“…Happy Sunday?”

Chapter Text

Abby felt the tap on his shoulder and jumped. He turned to see who touched him and pulled down his over-ear headphones.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Abby narrowed his eyes. This was one of the assholes that were mean to Bobby. In a weird way Abby could thank him for contributing to Abby and Bobby being together now.

“What?” Abby asked, a little sharper than he would usually.

The guy put his hands up and then pointed at the barbell laying at Abby’s shins.

“Are you going to row that? You didn’t deload and I know you haven’t been hitting rows with the same weight as your dead lifts.”

Abby blinked and looked down. Sure enough, Abby had kept the same amount of weight on the bar. He would have seriously injured his back if he had attempted that lift.

Abby let his muscles relax.

“Oh, uh, thanks bro,” Abby said. “Good looking out.”

“Yeah buddy, no problem,” the guy said.

Abby so desperately wanted to share with this guy, this stranger, why he was so distracted. He wanted to share his nerves about meeting Bobby’s friends, and maybe even ask for some advice.

But that wasn’t the way here.

It was amazing how quickly Bobby had spoiled Abby. Bobby had a completely new kind of communication. They weren’t a cis man that didn’t share his feelings with other cis men. Bobby was open and talkative and hilarious. They also didn’t let Abby off the hook. If Bobby could tell that Abby was confused or hesitant at all they would gently confront Abby so together they could have a conversation and both of them leave with a better understanding. Abby had felt the least lonely in his entire life since Bobby had shown him the path to being more expressive. Abby even made noise during sex now.

Abby knew he should maybe have a conversation with the two gym bros that had been on edge since the time Abby told them Bobby was going to fuck him so good the orgasm would impede his ability to lift. He and Bobby thought it would lead to hostility at the gym but it actually did the reverse– the two men were catering to him. Abby caught their eyes on him as he lifted. They weren’t looking at his eyes or face but at his muscles. They left equipment he approached and wanted to use. And now this– stopping him before seriously injuring himself even though he hadn’t asked for a spot.

Maybe he should have a conversation with them at some point about their slur usage. It seems like they might be receptive.

But not today, today was too important and Abby wanted to be focused on one thing and one thing only: Bobby’s friends liking him.

Abby decided to call his session short after the almost-disaster. He ordered Bobby’s coffee early and extra scalding hoping that it would be the right temperature by the time they arrived.

~~~~~

Bobby was covering Rumi’s morning Anthropology 101 class so Abby waited outside the lecture hall for the class to end. When the first student went to leave, Abby snuck inside.

The lecture hall was old and dingy. There was a yellowed sign above one of the doors that said “Smoking Only With Consensus” which was a physical clue to just how old the room was. Abby heard students grumbling about dead laptops as they left.

Abby loved watching Bobby like this. They always got nervous before leading a lecture so Bobby would get a little dressed up in order to feel more official. Bobby was wearing a checkered green and white sweater vest over a long sleeve button-up rolled up at the elbows. Their slacks were tan corduroys. They finished the look with a soft orange bowtie and with checkered vans to match the sweater. Abby watched as they talked to a student and threw their right hand up enthusiastically, a move not dissimilar to one he had seen Mira do in office hours. Abby smiled at Bobby’s painted white nails with their smudged pink hearts that Abby had tried his best to draw. The difficulty of the feat made Abby more impressed with Bobby’s skill at keeping their nails artfully painted a different color every week.

Abby leaned against the wall and smiled at Bobby taking student after student’s questions. Most of the lecture hall was empty by now. Bobby looked so official, and so focused, and so fucking sexy in their professor uniform.

Finally all the students left and Abby saw Bobby let out a large sigh in celebration. Abby chuckled, which caused Bobby’s face to shoot up at him in embarrassed horror before it morphing into a large full-toothed smile.

Bobby bounded up the lecture hall steps. Abby was smart enough to put his bag and the coffee cup down before Bobby leapt into Abby’s arms, a fun trick they had recently learned Abby could manage quite nicely. But before Bobby could kiss Abby they jumped back out of Abby’s arms and over to the door to lock it.

“Mira told me about this trick,” Bobby said. “I never thought I’d use it.”

Bobby pulled Abby down to their face via two fists in Abby’s shirt. Bobby’s pulse was pounding under Abby’s large hand on their neck, and Abby was certain it was more from the anxiety of leading such a huge lecture than it was from kissing Abby. At least it was the early morning lecture, which was the only one small enough to be in the old lecture hall.

After their kiss, Abby pulled Bobby into one of the padded auditorium chairs and held them while they both caught their breaths and Bobby could finally have their morning coffee.

“How are you feeling?” Abby asked.

“Ack, I think I need to tell my body that the danger is over,” Bobby laughed. “You?”

“Nervous about your friends, honestly,” Abby said.

“They’ll love you because I love you,” Bobby said.

“You love me?” Abby asked. 

Bobby froze momentarily before responding diplomatically. “Well this wasn’t the way I planned to say it but yes, I do.”

“Will you still say it the way you planned to say it?” Abby asked.

“Yes, we can forget I said it now,” Bobby agreed, smiling at Abby’s request.

“Good, then we can forget that I also love you,” Abby said, causing them both to smile widely at each other before going into a triumphant kiss. 

Abby laughed as Bobby squealed with excitement through the kiss, adding a new emotion to their mix of nerves.

“I think you’re forgetting to tell me another way you’re feeling,” Bobby whispered in Abby’s ear.

“I… am?” Abby asked, pulling away with a furrowed brow. He wasn’t going to take an accusation of omission lightly.

“Your little barbell is tattling on you,” Bobby whispered, wagging their eyebrows and flicking their eyes downwards to where Abby’s semi-hard cock was pushing up against the back of Bobby’s thigh.

“Ugh,” Abby groaned. “It should be a dumbbell considering how dumb it makes me look, always with a mind of its own.”

“Oh, so you aren’t horny right now?” Bobby continued to whisper, and Abby got the hint that Bobby wasn’t offended by it.

“No, I definitely am. You in your professor outfit really does it for me,” Abby said. “Are you?”

Bobby nodded slowly.

“Is– is there another–”

Bobby was not paying attention to Abby’s question, and was instead lowering themself in front of Abby’s knees.

Abby grabbed the side of Bobby’s face and got their attention again, but Bobby patted Abby’s hand.

“No class for another hour, and then we meet with my friends for an hour before Mira’s class.”

Bobby went to start to unbuckle Abby’s belt buckle but Abby stopped their hands and stood. Bobby looked like a sad kitten looking up at Abby, which made him smile adoringly at his partner.

“C’mon,” Abby said, pulling Bobby to their feet.

“Where are we goingggggg?” Bobby whined as Abby led them down the stairs. When they got to the sole desk on the slight stage of the auditorium Abby lifted Bobby until they were sitting on the edge of the desk.

“I want to suck my partner’s dick,” Abby said directly to Bobby’s face. Abby watched the way his words hit Bobby like a truck. “Would that be alright with you?”

Bobby looked up at him, starting to find reasons not to give themself exactly what they wanted in the moment.

“You know I–”

“I can be patient.”

“And if–”

“We can stop whenever you want.”

Bobby’s face was getting brighter and brighter. Abby’s was more and more certain. The anxiety of the other parts of their morning was being eclipsed by the excitement of the offering of the act.

Bobby nodded. “Okay, then.”

Abby smiled wickedly.

***

“First,” Abby said, “Let’s take off the sweater and the bowtie. Don’t want to get anything accidentally messy.”

“Chivalry for my bowtie? I’m going to cum before you touch me.” Bobby said, and Abby smiled more as he helped get the bowtie and sweater vest off. “Shirt too, I’m dying here.”

When Bobby was finally only in their binder Abby started working on the belt and buttons of the corduroys. He managed to get them open and he lifted Bobby slightly so he could get them all the way down to where Bobby’s legs dangled off of the side of the desk. Abby took Bobby’s shoes off and pulled the corduroys down and away so it was finally Abby on his knees in front of Bobby wearing nothing but their socks, boxer briefs with swords on them, and their binder.

“Like them?” Bobby asked as Abby put his large palms over where the boxer briefs sat on Bobby’s thigh.

Abby shook his head. “They’re hiding the sword I actually want to see.”

Bobby didn’t laugh this time. Instead they went red in the face, the shock of Abby’s words doing a delayed number on them.

Abby took that opportunity to dig his face into where the seams of the garment met, right over the growing wet spot.

“Fuck, Abs,” Bobby said, falling backwards and catching themself on their hands.

Abby licked up the sweet and bitter taste of Bobby, applying as much pressure as he could with his flat tongue. Then he looked up at Bobby who was already panting and looking down at Abby with the stress of pleasure. Abby rose to kiss them, just long enough to wrap his arm around Bobby with one hand and pull the boxer briefs down to the floor with the other. Bobby gasped into Abby’s mouth.

Abby moved back down and traced his tongue over Bobby’s wet folds while he turned his hand into a fist and then raised his four curled fingers so he could take Bobby’s dick between his curled first and second finger. He started to slowly jerk off Bobby’s hard two-inch cock while Abby pushed his tongue into Bobby.

“Oh my god,” Bobby said, and they laid fully back since they were losing all muscular function fast.

Bobby’s hands came up to cover their face, and Abby slowed to a stop.

“This okay, beautiful?” Abby asked, using the term he knew Bobby liked the most. “Need me to–”

“Don’t stop!”

Abby didn’t need more encouragement than that. He switched places– his tongue went to Bobby’s cock and one of his fingers went into Bobby slowly. Abby was glad that he had become the top scholar of Bobby’s body and what they liked in bed. It made getting Bobby to orgasm much faster and a little more exciting when he could feel like he knew what he was doing.

“Holy fuck, your mouth.”

Abby hummed with delight over their dick and Bobby let out a loud moan. They both froze temporarily at the loudness, and Abby took that opportunity to put another finger tip to Bobby’s opening.

“Yes, yes, please, now,” Bobby stage-whispered to their boyfriend below.

Bobby came shortly after, their back bending up in delight and their toes curling. Abby removed his fingers and used his clean hand to stroke down Bobby’s side, careful to avoid the places on the binder Bobby didn’t like being touched. Abby pulled his mouth off of Bobby with a pop before sucking the wetness off his fingers. Bobby was completely stone still other than their chest moving rhythmically up and down.

“Should I be worried about you?” Abby said, kissing Bobby’s inner thigh lightly before standing up to look at Bobby. Bobby was staring wide eyed at the ceiling as if they had seen a ghost.

“What was that?” Bobby asked finally.

A thread of doubt crawled down Abby’s back. “Uh… head?”

Bobby flicked their eyes down to meet Abby’s. Their face was still in disbelief, but at the look on Abby’s face Bobby reached out their hand and opened and closed their fingers. Abby rose and walked around the table and crouched level with Bobby’s turned head.