A Boy Called Cin (10 page)

"Fun is not the word I'd use. I brought half the beach home with me. Sand in places I'd rather never have any gritty substance. I'm not about to repeat that, even for you."

"I like us to have boundaries." Cin leans in and kisses Tom softly.

"Would you say I've drawn a line in the sand?" Tom tries to look innocent, but he can't stop himself from grinning.

"I would avoid saying that, but obviously, you wouldn't." Cin's obviously trying to seem unimpressed, but Tom doesn't miss the hint of a smile playing over his lips and making his eyes glitter. Tom lies back on the sand and pulls Cin with him, comfortable under his weight.

They stay in that position, quietly, for what feels like hours. It's probably not, but Tom's not in the mood to check his phone and find out. He's just happy to enjoy the pause for what it is. At the best of times, having Cin sit with him feels like having a skittish housecat curl up in your lap. Tom savors it and tries not to make any sounds or movements that might disturb him.

"We should go for a swim," Tom speaks up when his skin starts getting sticky with sweat. They're not so far from the house that they couldn't go back in their underwear. At least, Tom’s willing to suck up the distance if it means he gets to get in the water with Cin.

"Can't. I really can't swim in my binder. It stops me from breathing as deeply as I'd need to, and it's too restrictive to be really safe for a weak swimmer."

"Take it off?" Tom suggests.

"I can't," Cin repeats. There's an edge to his tone, but Tom dismisses it as disappointment.

"No one's gonna see. Not out here."

"That's not the point." Cin sits up, tone sharper again, and when Tom looks at him, his eyes are hard. "I can't take it off. I don't
want
to take it off. Why are you trying to push me?"

Tom opens his mouth, but an answer doesn't come straight away. Was he pushing? Cin doesn't seem happy with him, but it really didn't seem like he was putting pressure on him. "I didn't mean to. I just thought you were comfortable with me."

"That doesn't mean I'm comfortable with
me
." Cin stands, clearly upset now. Tom stays where he is, frozen under the look Cin's giving him. "If I can't trust you to understand that, then I can't be with you."

"Cin, I understand. I really didn't—"

"No, you
don't
understand," Cin interrupts. "You'll never understand this, because you're not like me. You'll never look in the mirror and cry; you'll never risk being maimed because you can't stand to feel your breasts. And if you can't understand it, then you'll never accept it."

Tom's stomach sinks. He's hurt, because Cin's assessment of him isn't remotely accurate—and he really thought
Cin
understood him, and that he's not comfortable with himself either—but he's also horrified that he's hurt Cin as much as he obviously has.

However, he knows better than to try to stop him when Cin starts to storm away. The worst thing he could do right now is run after Cin while he's this angry. He'll give him a couple of hours on his own, at least, to calm down. Then they can talk about how much of that was said in anger and how much Cin really believes. Hopefully, the answer will be not much of it.

*~*~*

Tom wakes up to the sound of Cin throwing up in the bathroom next door and nearly falls flat on his face rushing to get to him. They didn't speak to each other before bed last night after their argument, but he's not about to leave Cin in distress, regardless of what he said that they haven't addressed yet. By the time he finds his footing and bursts into the other room, Cin's leaning heavily against the wall and making soft, miserable noises.

"Cin?" Tom approaches him cautiously, not sure what to do. He decides when he's halfway across the room to pour him a glass of water and heads to the sink to do that. Cin continues to lean against the wall, one hand supporting him, the other wrapped over his stomach. When Tom approaches to hand him the glass of water, he can see tear tracks down the sides of his cheeks.

Cin takes the water and downs the whole glass in a few gulps before speaking. "Umm, painkillers." He pants. "Ibuprofen, if we have them."

The bathroom cabinet yields a pack of store-brand ibuprofen that's probably a year old but, on closer inspection, still in date for a few months. Tom watches anxiously as Cin downs four of them in one mouthful and then sits heavily on the wooden chest the towels are in.

"Sorry for waking you. It's only period pain."

"You were throwing up." Tom stares at Cin. It's not as though he's never dated anyone who had periods before, and it's not even as though this is the first time he's seen it first-hand. He'd done his share of washing blood-soaked sheets and hair-stroking. He was a grownup; he'd even gone down on people who were bleeding. But they'd all been women, and Cin wasn't. He'd forgotten that this was something that happened to him.

"You're staring," Cin points out.

"Sorry." Tom looks away, but only for a moment. "New territory."

"I can't believe you've gone through your whole life without seeing this."

"I haven't. But I kinda forgot I was gonna see it with you."

Cin chuckles and leans his head back against the tiles behind him. "That's weirdly flattering." He groans and leans forward again, squeezing his eyes shut. After a few harsh breaths, he looks up again. "I think we can safely say that this is why I lashed out at you yesterday. I feel like a huge asshole. Because I am one."

"I don't think you are," Tom says softly. "But I also don't think it was
just
… PMS, or whatever. It might've shortened your fuse, but that sounded…"

"I was so cruel to you and now you're here giving me water and painkillers like the genuinely beautiful person you are." Cin sits back and lays a hand across his stomach, brow furrowing for a second. "You're right. I shouted at you because I'm scared that you're going to get sick of my bullshit and just want a
normal
boyfriend and then when I can't be that for you, we won't even get to part on good terms."

Tom knows this would be a bad moment to say he really doesn't want them to part at all, but the urge hits him anyway. He stops himself, focusing on the tiles beside Cin's head. "You are normal," he says instead.

"You know what I mean." Cin clears his throat. "I did
not
mean what I said about you not understanding. I know you have the same kinds of things going on in your head. I just felt so cornered, because it was suddenly not you talking anymore. It was every person who's ever asked me if it wouldn't be easier if I could just be a girl. That was all I could hear. If a binder is so much trouble, why wear it? If being trans is so much trouble, why be trans?"

Tom swallows thickly, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. "I do cry over what I see in the mirror sometimes. And I've got no idea how to fix it and it's just so uncomfortable."

Cin looks devasted. "I know, Tom. I know, and I'm so sorry I said otherwise. And I wish you really did never feel like that. I wouldn't want that for anyone."

"It's okay; as long as we're okay?" Tom looks at him hopefully. He just wants to not be fighting anymore. He knows the hurt's going to stop the second he's allowed to touch Cin again.

"You haven't done anything wrong. I just need to grovel at your feet for forgiveness."

"You've got it. Seriously. I get why you lashed out and I'm gonna be more careful from now on. Deal?"

"Deal." Cin breathes out slowly, wincing at what Tom assumes is another cramp hitting him. "Wow, do I hate my body right now."

"What can I do for you?"

"Can I have a hug?" Cin looks up with tears in his eyes. Tom's heart sinks down to his stomach. He moves to sit beside Cin and tries to figure out what to do with him before deciding on turning sideways and maneuvering Cin to sit between his legs. He almost expects Cin to object, but instead, he leans back against Tom's chest.

"This is nice," Cin whispers. Tom lays a hand on Cin's belly and rubs gently, resting his nose on the top of Cin's head at the same time. Cin makes a pained noise at first, but then relaxes, melting against Tom's body. "I hate this so much. I know everyone does, but it's so uncomfortable. I hate anyone to know that it's happening."

"Well, I'm honored to be let in on it." Tom kisses Cin's hair gently. As he'd predicted, he's okay now. The relief that they're not fighting anymore is enough to soothe any remaining sting of Cin's anger. "And when your painkillers start kicking in, I'll eat you out. I have it on good authority that orgasms take cramps away."

"You… you're okay with that? Because that's kinda…"

Tom laughs softly. "You telling me that I've done something
you're
not comfortable with? Because I'm gonna mark this day on the calendar."

"I just…" Cin squirms. "I feel so extremely gross. I think I have good reason to." He lets his head fall back against Tom's shoulder.

"You do. And if you don't want me near you, I get it. But just because I forgot, doesn't mean I'm not here for the whole package. You get what I mean, right?"

"I get what you mean. I'll probably let you later. I just need to have a brief existential crisis first, remind myself that this doesn't make me less of a man. Clean up a bit, too, because I imagine there's a limit to the volume of blood you're okay with."

"Long as I don't drown in it." Tom shrugs. "It's actually… not anything like as weird as I thought it would be, the first time? I really like using my mouth, though, so could just be me."

"I was starting to get that impression. You'll notice I'm not objecting." Cin wriggles to get more comfortable.

"I've noticed. I'm glad I can make you happy," Tom murmurs. He's not sure Cin's likely to realize how true that is. Being able to bring him happiness and pleasure is starting to mean everything to Tom.

"You make me surprisingly happy." Cin closes his eyes and relaxes further. "I'll get up and deal in a minute."

"Take your time." Tom tightens his grip a little, riding out a sudden wave of tenderness toward Cin. He's up to his neck with the tide coming in, but he's pretty sure Cin's safe to go under with. Maybe he'll just let himself do that.

*~*~*

Poppy arrives a little after breakfast one morning, and Tom rushes out to meet her. She hugs him like they haven't seen each other in years and kisses his cheek, beaming the whole time.

"The house is really beautiful," Poppy notes, peering over Tom's shoulder. "Very you."

"Old and in need of a lot of paint to look acceptable?"

"I was thinking
charming
. And unassuming. It's not the horrific mega-mansion I imagined when you said you were looking for a place on the coast." She looks the place over again. Tom realizes it's his fault for not making it clear what kind of house he was looking for, but now he's worried that Poppy's going to be underwhelmed. He wants her to love it, because he wants it to be a home. "So. When do I get to meet him?"

"Soon. Minutes from now. But listen, I
really
like him. And that doesn't mean you have to, but I'd like you not to scare him away. I want him to stick around. If I thought he'd go for it, I'd ask him to move in permanently and just… do art. He's really good, too."

Poppy raises an elegantly-plucked eyebrow. "You
do
really like him. I don't think I remember you ever getting this enthusiastic about someone."

"I was probably a teenager the last time," Tom agrees, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "I know, okay? And I realize that when I talk about him I sound totally obsessed, but I kinda am. He's been so good for me."

"What you're saying is: play nice?"

"Exactly. That's the thing I'm saying." Tom nods. "Play nice?"

"Only for you." Poppy smiles indulgently. "Take me to your prince."

Tom beams and leads Poppy inside to where Cin is sketching quietly in the kitchen, eyebrows drawn together as he sits on the end of the table and alternates between staring out the window and scribbling in his sketchbook. Tom stops for a moment, just to watch him, and Poppy does the same, looking over his shoulder again. He doesn't move until Poppy nudges him gently.

"Hey, Cin? This is my sister."

Cin hops off the table and puts his things down, already smiling by the time he looks up at them. "I've heard so many good things about you." Cin offers his hand as Poppy pushes past Tom, already preparing to take it. "He neglected to mention that he's not actually the pretty sibling. I love your shoes."

"He noticed my shoes; you can keep him. But only if I can have shopping trip rights." Poppy winks at Cin, who winks right back. Tom never really expected them
not
to get along, but it's a relief that they're already finding common ground.

"I like you. How long are you staying?"

"Just a day or two. You'll have Tom all to yourself again soon, don't worry."

"Actually, I was just thinking that Tom says you like zombie movies. I
also
like zombie movies, and Tom doesn't, because he's a baby."

"Both of those things are true." Poppy nods seriously.

"Hey!" Tom would like to pretend he's upset, but he's okay with jokes at his expense if it means that Cin and Poppy are going to be friends. Poppy has always been a huge, important part of his life, and Cin is, hopefully, on his way to becoming one. It'd suck if they didn't like hanging out with each other.

"Aww." Cin gives Tom a sympathetic look. "It's okay. You're very brave around spiders." He takes a step forward and stands on his toes to kiss Tom's cheek. Tom blushes and his stomach floods with warmth. Cin kissed him in front of Poppy. For whatever reason, that seems huge.

"Very brave," Poppy agrees. "Come sit with me and I'll tell you embarrassing stories about him?" Poppy offers Cin her hand, wiggling her fingers until he takes it.

"I guess I'll just be in charge of making the coffee, then?" Tom asks. He means it to be sarcastic, but he knows that by saying it, he's already volunteered for the role. Sarcasm works even less well on Poppy than it does on Cin, and she's already tugging him toward the living room.