Genimo

Love Language

(Lenny's outfit above)

"Hello, gorgeous."

"Hi, Imogen." Lenny greets with a giggle and a mouth full of cookies.

"How goes it?"

"As decent as it can." He shrugs.

"Did something happen?"

"Just the usual, basic straight dudes accusing me of look at their flat, unclean asses in the locker room."

"Let me know if they bother you, alright? I'll teach you some self-defense too."

"Ew, that requires exercise though."

"Do you want to be a sitting duck?"

"No, I guess not." He grumbled.

"That's what I thought."

We continued eating our lunch, just enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Lenny, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Mhm."

"How do you identify? Sexually I mean."

"I'm not sure really...everyone always assumed I was gay, but...no one's ever asked."

"Have you ever had feelings for anyone?"

"I find people attractive, but I've never had a crush per se. I could be maybe bi, or pan, or something. I just know I'm open to more than one thing."

"I get that, you don't have to have it all figured out right now, babe."

"Babe?"

"What? You are."

"Thank you. You're a good friend."

"It's easy when you're so sweet."

"Sure." He says trying to hide his smile.

"Don't hide your smile from me. By the way, I love your outfit, those shorts look great on you."

"Thanks, but my legs look weird." I nudged him.

"No, they don't they're perfect."

"They're all girly, I've got like no muscle."

"That doesn't matter, besides they're nice and soft." I felt how smooth they were, you'd think he never grew leg hair. Even the texture of his knee was smooth. His thighs felt the same, only fuller. I was in a trans as I massaged them.

"That feels good." He sighed. He gave me more room to feel.

I continued to massage his thigh when he shifted down moving my hand higher. His eyes were closed in relaxation. I trailed my hand up further, near to the hem of his shorts when we were interrupted by the bell.

He jumped and avoided eye contact. His face was flushed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, and like I said before, your legs are perfect."

We both went our separate ways.

Before I could go into my next class.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see a tall guy, presumably jock based on the letterman jacket. He had dirty blonde hair and a dangerously sharp jawline.

Probably a douche, but I won't get ahead of myself.

"Hey."

"Hi, there."

"You're Imogen, right?"

"That is I."

"Find your footing here okay?"