Page 30 of Ship Happens

The words all blended together as Owen skimmed through the pages, most of the concepts going over his head, but what really struck Owen was the passion with which Jacob wrote about his research, his love and adoration for these creatures that Owen had only ever seen before in documentaries or in the aquarium level at the Academy of Sciences. It was like Jacob respected them. “Wow, this is . . .”

“Dry?” Jacob finished the thought for Owen. “Dense?”

Owen shook his head, instead saying, “Impressive.”

By the end of the night, the apartment was still mostly bare. Without any real furniture to speak of, most of Jacob’s things ended up stacked on the floor, left in an approximation of where they’d eventually go.

“Any chance I can interest you in staying for dinner?” Jacob asked as he finished breaking down the final cardboard box. “I was going to order Thai.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Owen told him, prepared to grab his bag and make a quiet exit.

“Dude, you just helped me move all of my stuff by yourself,” Jacob said as if he couldn’t believe Owen would say such a thing. “Besides, I’m sure your cookies are good, but I don’t think they’re a suitable meal.”

Thankfully, Jacob never let things turn awkward as they ate. They talked about other books they’d read; Jacob gave Owen recommendations, while taking a few for himself. Especially when Owen started to recommend his favorite monster romances.

Then Jacob asked about Owen’s favorite spots in San Francisco, where he liked to spend his time. They made plans to go to the library to get Jacob a card the following week, then Owen would show Jacob Green Apple Books, maybe grab crepes at Genki after.

“Would it be okay if I asked you something?” Jacob asked as he stacked the plastic containers in the sink to wash out later.

“I feel like it’s a bit late for that question,” Owen said teasingly, “but sure.”

“You have top surgery scars.” Jacob’s voice was low, almost shy.

“I do,” Owen replied plainly, preparing himself for the worst. He’d never actually considered the possibility that Jacob might have a problem with trans people. Surely, Kaitlyn would’ve never allowed the two of them to be together alone if there was going to be a problem.

“I noticed that you tattooed over yours, did it hurt?”

“Wait . . . huh?” Owen processed the implied information in chunks, watching as Jacob pulled his shirt pulled up over his hairy chest.

“I’ve always wanted to get mine covered up; I thought it looked cool. But I was told with the type of scarring that it’d be tough, and that going over tissue like that hurts like hell. Then other people tell me I’m too hairy.”

Owen froze, suddenly faced with the hairy bare chest of the man he’d been ogling for years and the realization that Jacob was also trans. Something that Kaitlyn never felt the need to disclose to Owen, apparently.

“I, uh . . .” His words felt heavy, like there was cotton stuffed in his mouth, his tongue heavy. “Whew, boy.”

“Do you think it’d be hard?”

Something’s hard all right, Owen thought, stopping himself, feeling that spike in his libido. Swallowing, Owen found himself unable to stop the awkward laugh from slipping out, clearing his throat when Jacob seemed confused by his reaction. “Umm . . . well, tattooing scar tissue can be hard. Like with all tattooing, it really varies from person to person, what their pain tolerance is.”

“Sorry if I—” Jacob said, pulling his shirt back down. “I didn’t mean to look, earlier, when you showed me your tattoos, I just . . . They were there.”

“No, it’s okay,” Owen assured him. He chose that moment to be a little brave, telling himself that it was more for Jacob’s benefit than his own. He pulled the hem of his shirt—plastered with the words British Cigarette on the front—over his head, giving Jacob a proper look at his own chest. Owen’s procedure hadn’t involved his nipples at all, leaving him with two crescent shaped scars underneath his pectorals.

He didn’t make a habit of showing just anyone his body, but the way Jacob stared at Owen’s chest, stepping closer as if he were looking at a work of art hanging in a museum, it made Owen’s heart swell with pride in the body that he’d gotten to make for himself.

The handful of tattoos that Owen thinks are ugly and wants covered up, the scars that stretch to his armpits, the weird patches of hair that grow along his chest, the blotches of inflamed skin and swollen joints. Jacob looked at each of the ugliest pieces of Owen as if they truly deserved to be adored, prized.

“Pattern’s family crest, right?” Jacob said, spotting the familiar design from the Chetek Archives books in an instant. The antlers of deer, decorated in aloysia, a flower of forgiveness, a symbol of Pattern’s story through the books. Then Jacob laughed, a soft, tender sound that’d already become familiar. “You did say he was your favorite character.”

Owen felt a breath slip out when fingers brushed against his skin.

“Sorry!” Jacob quickly pulled back, as if he’d been poked.

“No, it’s fine,” Owen promised. There’d been something different about the way that Jacob touched him. Something that made it not so terrible.

“You’re sure?”

Owen nodded silently, almost melting as Jacob’s fingers touched his skin again.