Bee's Hive

"Do you?" She furrows her eyebrows at the way you asked the question. "Wha…"

"I haven't seen you with a boyfriend."

"I showed up with him, he's-"

"Outside? He's been outside a lot tonight, huh? I've had my eye on you for two hours, and not once have you been on his arm. You keep checking your phone like you're waiting on something, but I don't think he's coming, baby."

Her confidence falters a note. "He's just, he went out for a smoke, he said he was coming back in…" You raise your eyebrows to reinforce your previous assertion. She falters under it, and reaches over with one hand to grasp her other forearm.

You sidle a little closer to her, bumping your arm into the fridge she's been standing next to, looking lonely. "I noticed you've been checking her out all night." You gesture at a redhead across the room wearing slightly too much lipstick. That one's been running her mouth to the little woman next to her on the couch ever since the party's host disbanded the half-assed attempt at icebreaker games, and the yearning on your conversational partner's face was so loud that you immediately knew she was missing something important in her life.

She blushes and turns away. "No, I, well, I just think she's really beautiful."

"You want me to get her number for you?" You don't want to get that number for her, but you know this pretty little thing is going to flinch at the notion of actually getting what she wants.

She plays right into your hands. "She's busy, and she's talking to that girl, and besides, she wouldn't want m-…" She tucks her lips between her teeth to smother the rest of the sentence, and she drifts to staring down between her feet.

You take a step forward and a bold step in the conversation, getting close enough to tuck a finger under her chin and lift to force eye contact. You murmur "She wouldn't want you? Why wouldn't she want you? Girl, you're a catch. You didn't come here all dressed up to look at the floor, did you?"

Her eyes get a few drops more watery, and she almost pulls away from your touch, but you take a second finger and run it under her chin again, and she almost puckers as she leans into the touch. A thirst she doesn't seem willing to admit touches her lips for a moment, but then she tries to protest "I came with my boyfriend-"

"Yeah yeah, your boyfriend. But I don't see him here now, with you. You're right here, with me, and I can see what he's missing."

You can feel the desperation in the way she leans forward. "What he's missing? What do you mean?"

"He showed up to the party with the most beautiful girl here, and somehow he's gotten fixated on the reflection in his truck's bumper outside instead of keeping an eye on his woman. I think he should be taught a lesson."

She pulls back a little past your outstretched fingers, but you don't cede distance, and she step back into the ample space available. "What? What are you saying? A lesson? He's just outside, he just, he was just getting a cigarette from her, he's coming back soon…"

"Oh, so he was talking to some girl? And somehow he forgot about you?"

She's on the verge of tears. "I, well, she was…" Her voice drops to a whisper, right about to break. "She's trans too, so…"

A cord unzips around your throat, the friction painful as you see this poor girl push herself aside to make way in her relationship for someone else just because they share a demographic with her. You step further forward and cup her jaw, staring deep into her eyes. "Oh, sweetie, do you think that's why he's with you?"

With an impressive degree of fortitude she manages to return your gaze, and you can see something vulnerable inside her unfurling under your attention. She murmurs out "He just said I'm his type, that he has a thing for tgirls-"

You cut her off with gentle firmness. "Baby girl, 'tgirl' is something that you get to say, not him. Do you like being called that?"

Her cheeks go red and she shakes her head in your hand a little. "I just want to be a woman, but-"

"No 'but' anything. You are a woman, and you deserve to be called that. What do you want to be called? How does gorgeous sound?"

Her lips part, and you can feel her breathing coming heavier. You adjust your grip to hold her chin like a chalice filled with angelic ambrosia, and you continue "Delightful? Sweet thing?" That gets a shiver out of her, and you can tell that if you find just the right phrase, you might get a moan out of her.

The air etches with the truest sentence of the evening: "Are you my little girl?"

You get the moan you were aiming for, and in the breathless moments she fails to respond you take another step forward and wrap your arms around her waist. You can see stars light in her eyes at your proximity, and she bites her lip for a moment before she remembers the chastity she's so foolishly trying to withhold. "Wait, no, I, I have a boyfriend, I'm lucky to have him, I won't cheat-"