Indigo Kinsella
Hookup of Flair
Elliot, with his white t on & backpack close, moved to meet Kip. Tenderly on zir chin,
they gently grazed zir scruff. Kip leaned closer, in a trance by the simple indication.
So much so, ze forgot to act a brat. Elliot, amused by zir emitting charm, sprouted a grin.
Tightly, around zir chest, he secured his arms to hold zem tightly, kindling a pleasant vibration.
It was lulling when masculinity got to play out dainty. Divine and thrilling too was the pressure
soon placed ardently on Kip’s breath. Devotedly, Elliot teased a hand to grip around zir throat.
The restriction incited Kip to react. Ze grinded into Elliot, him then bumping into the dresser.
Inviting giggles, Kip blushed and wondered if ze had read too deeply into brief Grindr notes?
Affirmative; the tidying of zir apartment and heightened stranger-danger anxiety, was overkill.
Elliot joked about sparing the furniture any more damage and swayed the pair towards the bed.
“I don't do daddy stuff, like, I don’t want to be called that but, delivery boy toy, I can fulfill until
the night is over, m’kay?” Elliot was honeyed compared to his digital replies. Happily ze said:
“The safe word is ‘house of air,’ unless you hear that from me, do not, Elliot listen now, unless–”
“Don’t stop! Unless, that,” Elliot bemused, “it’s a phrase really, but you’re cute, so I’ll finesse.”
Bottom Dysphoria vs. Gay Sex Ghazal
“Having fun?” Elliot asked, knowing the whimpers meant things were good enough.
Kip rolled zir eyes. Elliot nodded gleefully, “yeah I thought so” assuming he understood enough.
The point of the hookup was to wield the strap as his-own-self, it took Kip’s begging to prompt
however, a reinitiation of the plan. Inbetween kisses “Elliot, please, fuck me” outstood enough.
Sensing what the begging suggested caused a magenta panic. Kip was clear, “I want you in me.”
Expectation translated anew. Once redownloaded the warmth of him felt withstood enough.
Or wrong, or? What were they missing– except well, he knew what was missing just, fuck, they
had offered to do this but, aw shit, he wasn’t very good at this, and was his wood enough?
What if Kip’s more used to... flesh? Now he was spiraling out on where was his dick? Real
dick– aw shit. Getting himself worked up and suddenly he was more than misunderstood enough.
Suddenly hyper aware of Kip's hand on his cheek. When did they stop kissing? Elliot’s eyes
began darting, then, seeing his groin, covered in a plastic he wondered if it could... enough.
It was fine! He could make due. Why had he thought he could do this casually? Sex was already
complicated enough! Kip’s gonna think...– “Elliot?” he was singed like firewood, enough!
Sure, Kip wasn’t a mind reader but ze were in tune to a complexity present. Even more odd,
special, or merely important to Elliot, was that ze seemed to care. It made him feel good enough.
Ze were waiting for Elliot to express more. Contentedly brushing his back as they sat. Together,
the two were upright. Elliot expected to be guided out. He had not proved his manhood enough.
“Hi,” Kip prompted. “Yes, hi, I uh... fuck, sorry,” Elliot started. He lost his stride, wondering
what was it even he wanted to confess. Tension like this reminded him of womanhood enough.
“Don't apologize” Kip cut him off, “but sorry? Why?” ze reminded him of his sentences waiting.
“I shouldn’t have led you on, I don't–” choking then on the guilt crushing his boyhood enough.
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to, like I don’t, haven’t, like the strap thing it was something I was trying
more than, I didn’t think I’d feel so...” the images of a repressed childhood evoked enough.
Bringing him to realize he didn’t know how to say this in a chill way. He was supposed to be!
Spontaneous! Yet Kip was nodding patiently and this was, having expected rejection, enough.
“I get it, Elliot, I like this. This is fun, good, you're good! And fucking you is fun. You can take it
off if you want, I’d still want this” A comfort provided, not understood by Hollywood enough.
Hookup-turned-cry-sesh’s don't tend to lend out faith. Red cheeks be damned, Elliot felt gay. He
was told to stay. Kip wanted him, plainly, as he was, because heart is always good enough.
Tercet’s With Lune to Honor the Classic: Preparing-To-Fuck-A-Stranger-Panic
A spin and stumble, back and forth, to tidy for a stranger.
Mr. Strapped... What's his name again? tap tap tap and again:
a tap, followed by a long scrolllllllllllll, re-revealed: Elliot.
He gave a short reply, despite a long night planned. Just his ETA.
Fight or flight demanded to worry; “will this sexy stranger fuck me good ...
or try to kill me?” Ugh, what a delightful queer classic to partake in!
Contemplating safety while distractedly vacuuming, setting the scene
was the easy part. The actual interactions to follow was reality's wild card.
Attempting to rationalize zir decisions, ze ran through the facts ze knew.
Well, he’s trans! And further he has a literal testosterone molecule tattoo
Poking plainly out of a profile picture’s shirt sleeve. This had to hint to safety, right?
Pivoting to focus on the nesting at hand however; a good sub always prepares!
Some would say it’s wild to care about if the strap daddy from Grindr
has an opinion regarding a sink of dishes or the placement of fluffed pillows.
Nonetheless, divinity in the details! A T4T dickdown deserves attentiveness.
A pressing anxiety stoically edged zir limbic system. Said presence seemed rude.
As if Kip could forget about how it was dangerous to meet with random men ...
in the middle of the night ... when ze lived alone... it’s just a quick fuck though!
God, it would be fine!
and later
provoked pure queer glee
Indigo Kinsella (xey/xem) is a Boston based poet, baker, and beach combing fanatic. Xey explore the incredulous nature of indoctrination through intersecting identities. Xey love public transit, tattoos, and making playlists emotively. You can follow xeir writing updates on IG at @uglyclogswrites