I let out a squeak, then cover my mouth. Oh holy shit she’s just saying that in public? I mean, I guess it was an innuendo, but, like, there are people around — 

I flush and duck my head and take a deep drink of my coffee.

Okay, okay, okay, this is getting out of hand. I’ve got to fight back somehow. I really need to not just get bullied. But, uh — I can hardly safeword in public — and I’m too tongue-tied to talk anyway — 

I grab my phone and hunch over it, not looking at my girlfriend. 

Vixy: >//////<

Vixy: um. y-yellow? sorry

There’s a soft rustle as she pulls out her phone and types a quick reply.

Silvia: Sorry, love. I’ll dial it back a bit. 

She squeezes my hand gently, and I look up at her with a hopeful smile on my face. God, I must look like a kicked puppy dog.

She smiles tenderly, her face understanding, a faint flush fading from her cheeks.

Vixy: It’s okay

Vixy: I’m just worried someone will know 

Vixy: it’s… embarrassing. 

In fact it’s the exact kind of embarrassing that gets my engine going, but I don’t want to encourage Silvia. I shift in my chair, moving my thighs against each other a little.

Vixy: >///<

Vixy: I love you

Silvia: Love you too.

Silvia: Doubt people could figure it out, though. Default assumption people will make is “teasing that the surprises aren’t actually small” if they even listen. Littlespace is just too uncommon for people to think of it.

Silvia: But valid to be embarrassed. 

Jade: The idiot normies don’t deserve to have their hypothetical negative opinions respected, though. Kill the part that cringes, not the part that’s cringe, and all that.

Silvia: Yeah. But I get it. S’okay, cutie.

She squeezes my hand again, then sets down her phone and takes a sip of her coffee.

I am so, so doomed when we get back to my place.

But also I am starting to look forward to it.

I gather up all my courage. I didn’t wait three years to back down at the end of it all.

Jubes: If you want to make comments like that you can make them at my place. In bed. While kissing me. Learn some context ♡ 

I slip my phone into my pocket and give Silvia and Jade my best teasing smile, then finish off my last bite of donut and stand with my coffee in one hand and Silvia’s luggage in the other. 

Without saying a word, I start off for the LRT station, hauling Silvia’s luggage along behind me.

Silvia cackles — although from the sound of it, it might be Jade — and stands, quickly finishing off her croissant as she follows after me, mocha in hand. A few steps later, the crumpled bag and napkin bounce into a trash can, and what absolutely has to be Jade wraps an arm around my waist as we walk.

The motion hitches briefly, her hand freezing for a moment, before she continues, firmly squeezing me close.

Now that’s an equal playing field. I take the opportunity to finish off my coffee, and walk on arm in arm, still trailing Jade’s luggage. It’s not far over the bridge to the LRT, and there’s even a ramp for the suitcase. It’s no sweat.

I finally stop at the platform and sit on one of the benches, stretching my arms up over my head.

“You know,” I venture, “I gotta say, there’s nothing that makes you see a city differently than being there with someone new to it. What do you think, Jade? I know you’ve traveled a lot. Is it all just the same to you?”

She smirks and shakes her head. “There are some things that are the same everywhere — taxi drivers barely speak your language, traffic is terrible, airport shops are overpriced, airplanes are cramped — but everything else is different. And seeing things with someone you love changes everything. Looking forward to seeing all your favorite things, dork.”

“I’m already seeing one of my favorite things right now,” I shoot back. “Took forever for them to deliver it.”

I squeeze her around the waist — gentle, it’s Jade. 

The train pulls up, and I take a standing position next to one of the poles. It’s more crowded than at seven: some scruffy-looking guy with a ballcap is sitting two seats down looking at his phone, and there’s an old lady with a cat on her lap as well.

The presence of people presses down on me like a physical weight. I always have to watch my back in crowds, always sit with my back to a wall, always be on guard — but I have my key person with me and that means I can survive whatever the world throws at me. 

Jade takes what looks like a guard position: suitcase pinned against the pole by one foot, one arm braced against the grab bar, the other wrapped protectively around me. She looks around, and I can tell from something in her stance that she’s standing sentry for me.

It’s… strange to see her caring like that. Stranger still to realize I trust her with that duty. I’ve never had someone to watch my back before. Someone who cared that way. It makes me feel a little like a king — no, like a princess. 

I touch my fingers to my quartz necklace and smile. 

“Your Kept,” I say quietly. And I take one of the seats next to Jade, rather than standing free to move, and close my eyes and lay my head back against the glass.