One month later.

“Eighty, ninety… one hundred.” Brains counted out the cash, passing Skip’s winnings over without a hint of ill will. They’d won fair and square, even if nobody else had spotted the technicality that’d cinched their success.

Skip, pleased, took the fruit of their gambling and slipped it into a pocket.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Brains asked, putting away his wallet.

“What’s that?” Skip inquired.

“Well, you’re always saying how you’ve got no use for a partner,” Brains said, “But here you spotted the love connection before any of us.”

“I didn’t spot the love connection,” Skip corrected, shaking their head. “I spotted the sex connection, and I don’t really think that’s ironic at all.”

Brains tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because,” Skip explained, “Who’s going to be better at pointing out dangerous waters, do you think? Someone who’s a few inches from drowning, or a lifeguard watching from the middle distance?”

Brains considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess. I wouldn’t say sex is like drowning, though.”

“Yeah? What would you say it’s like?” Skip asked. “Because as a passive, disinterested observer–y’all get stupid when you’re horny. Give me a close friendship, but a relationship focused on making each other stupid? Nah, that’s not for me.”

They didn’t comment on what had led to Grace getting ‘sick’. She and Pearce had chosen not to share that with the group, so Skip would keep their secret–goodness knows, Skip had secrets enough of their own. Brains was unlikely to deduce what’d happened, and even if he did, he knew how to trust in the words his friends told him.

Brains wouldn’t ever know that Grace had poisoned herself, unless he got told to his face.

Skip envied that, a little. It seemed simpler, and it seemed like it’d be more peaceful to just accept things at face value.

Then again, if they could have traded their cynicism for a sex drive, they’d keep their cynicism: At least being skeptical came with its upsides. As best they could tell, the only side effect of getting horny was a steep drop in intellectual capacity.

“I’ll take being stupid,” Brains said with a shrug. “Connor makes me happy.”

Maybe, Skip envied that too.

“Well, I’ve got to go make sure Melody’s good for her share of the pot,” Skip said, disengaging from the conversation. “And I’ve got some work to do after that.”

They didn’t have work to do, but they wanted a stronger reason to break off from the conversation, so they threw that in at the end. (As though Brains cares.)

Walking through the house, Skip passed by the lovebirds themselves, entangled on the couch watching TV. Today was a ‘Pearce Dressed Grace’ day, meaning she had on one of her myriad onesies, diaper bulging visibly beneath. She had been granted access to her regular wardrobe once again now that the bet was over, and leaving the house to run errands or work or just meet friends no longer required elaborate negotiation of rules, but Pearce still dressed her up in baby clothes as often as not.

Things had settled down since Grace and Pearce had stopped being horny-stupid. Or, well–less horny-stupid, Grace was still voluntarily peeing her pants regularly. Still, Skip wouldn’t complain now that the unnecessary arguing and high-tension emotions had left their home.

Pausing to glance at the TV, Skip raised an eyebrow at the colorful cartoon playing. “What’s this?”

“Bluey,” Pearce explained. “Grace needed something age-appropriate to watch today.”

Skip snorted, then smirked in response to Grace’s pouty face. The Bet was over, and the letter of the rules had generally been discarded, but the spirit had carried on.

From a scientific, anthropological perspective, Skip was fascinated by which parts of their relationship had stuck around even as others got discarded.

Pearce just wasn’t well suited to getting up early, so while he still tucked Grace into bed every night, they handled their morning rituals separately. Skip typically got home from work just in time to see Grace milling about in the kitchen, having cereal and coffee, her diaper sagging as she waited for Pearce to get up and change her. If Skip stuck around long enough they’d get to see Pearce come down and start rubbing his lips on Grace’s face while making mushy statements of affection, groping her pee-soaked underwear shamelessly before declaring she ‘Needed a change’.

Curiously, that one rule had stuck around almost completely, even if it wasn’t called a ‘Rule’ anymore: Grace still didn’t ask for diaper changes.

She’d regained the ability to just go use the toilet when she needed, and could change herself when she had to, but she just…didn’t. Even without the motivation of trying to win the bet by inducing leaks, Grace kept her mouth shut even when her diapers made her sort-of adult clothes sag.

Instead, Grace waited on Pearce to check her, or if she needed a change more urgently, she found ways to communicate that without saying it quite so overtly. It was still pretty overt–Skip barely paid attention and could still see the changes in her posture and hear how her tone shifted when she was desperate for a fresh diaper, but she wouldn’t say the words, ‘I need a change’, and unless there were extenuating circumstances, she didn’t do it herself.

It was part of their dynamic, Skip guessed. Grace didn’t care about the rule, per say–she wasn’t trying to avoid a punishment or live up to an arbitrary standard. She wanted to know that Pearce was there for her, that she had his attention and that he wouldn’t forget about her needs.

It was…cute. Gross, and kinda weird, but cute.

“Enjoy your show,” Skip said, looking at the screen a little longer. This was a part they just didn’t understand–the diaper thing, that was a way of showing reliance and trust. But the boring kiddie shows? They just didn’t get it.

Excusing themself, Skip left the living room and navigated up the stairs. Arriving at the top of the landing, a few times on Melody’s door.

Melody answered a moment later, wearing a disgruntled expression until they saw Skip. “Just get home?”

“Leaving in a bit, actually,” Skip said. “Last night was an off day, but I’ve got errands. Just wanted to say–it’s been a month, and Grace is still getting her diapers changed, so…”

“Right,” Melody said, rolling her eyes. “Lovebirds.”

“You’re one to judge,” Skip said, doing their best to ensure that their tone said, ‘I’m teasing’ and not, ‘I think you’re being a hypocrite.’

“Oh, I absolutely am,” Melody replied. “I don’t do love. I just get the physical fun parts, all that emotional whining and getting heartbroken, that’s not my thing.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Skip said. “Still–it’s time to pay the piper.”

Melody shrugged, walking back to the table by her bed. “We said a hundred, right?”

“Yup,” Skip confirmed. “Do you think they’ll last?”

“Pearce and Grace?” Melody asked, looking around her purse. “Hey, I just have a few twenties–can I just send it with Buckshare?”

Skip nodded. “Yes, to both.”

“Nothing lasts,” Melody said. “They’ve got a weird thing, and that might keep them closer–it’s not like you can just go to a club and pick up a dynamic where one partner wipes the other’s ass day in and day out, but that’s not a good thing, either. It means they’ll be pressured to keep going after the fun part’s over.”

“How long does the fun part last, for you?” Skip tilted their head.

“Depends on how experienced they are,” Melody replied, withdrawing her phone to pay off the wager. “A good lay, that’ll keep me going for hours–give me someone who knows how to build, knows when to go for the cum, that’ll make me scream. Plus I love someone who’s not shy about toys, doesn’t feel like they’re inadequate just because I break out the leather. They’re hard to find, but someone with experience and stamina, they’ll… Uh, hey, I’m sorry. You don’t like the ‘detail’ stuff.”

Skip just shook their head. “No, no, I don’t mind. It’s interesting, in a sort of…it’s like when Brains starts telling me about speedrunning drama–do I care about it personally? No, but he still makes it interesting, it’s still fun to listen. I don’t know who ‘Sleepytime’ or ‘Black Swan’ or whoever these people are, but a good story is a good story.”

“So to you,” Melody said, pausing in the middle of pulling up the payment app, “good sex and nerd shit are the same thing.”

“I’ve met too many horny nerds to think otherwise,” Skip snorted. “The only difference between a ren faire and a BDSM convention is the amount of turkey legs being eaten.”

Melody laughed, then paused. Skip recognized the thoughts going on behind the scenes–Melody had an idea.

Skip didn’t push, she’d share if she thought it was worth sharing.

“Money sent,” Melody said, setting down her phone. “I still think that ‘Bet’s over/diaper change’ technicality is crap, but I’m not going to sweat it.”

“I’ll probably just toss the money in the beer fund, anyways, once Pearce’s payout stops covering drinks,” Skip said. “My job hours kinda suck, but it pays nice, so I can’t complain.”

Melody paused again–thinking harder. Seeing opportunity.

Skip saw the question coming, though they didn’t know what it would lead to.

“Hey,” Melody said, “I’ve got something in the works, something that might be able to make some cash.”

“Yeah?” Skip asked. “I’m not really looking to quit, but how much cash are we talking?”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of a self publishing thing,” Melody admitted. “It depends on how good I am at selling it. If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine.”

Skip nodded along. Sure, I get that. More of a gamble than, like, a wage job.”

“Yeah. I think it could hit big, though, it just needs the right angle, and I’ve been having trouble getting some parts off the ground.”

“Alright,” Skip said, noncommittal. “Hit me. What’s the idea?”

“A book,” Melody explained. “Or–maybe a web series, I don’t know. Some kind of educational content, at least, and I want it to be about dating.”

Skip pressed their lips into a line. What do you need me for?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Melody said. “I have this issue–I go out, I want to have a bit of fun, and nobody knows how to do shit. If I go out with some guy who’s not heavily invested in sex, I spend most of my time just trying to coach him to get me to cum once and then he wants to take a nap. People within the community, though…there’s another issue there.”

She trailed off, and Skip took a guess. “Not enough partners to go around?”

“I’m to the point I’ve almost booty called an ex,” Melody admitted, saying it with a tone that implied the confession was shocking. “And…people talk, everyone kind of knows I’m flighty and so it’s getting harder to find folks that aren’t turned off by my reputation. I need a way to get people up to speed that doesn’t ruin date night. And there’s resources out there, but none that I like. I want a book I can hand to someone who’s never so much as had a dirty thought before, and by the time they’re done reading it, they’ll at least have a basic idea of how everything works–Safe words, protocols, safety, all that stuff.”

“So I’m your pure, virginal control group?” Skip asked.

“More like my co-author,” Melody said. “My writing style’s kind of…florid, I have a hard time staying objective. I need someone without a bias, who can look at what I’m writing and tell me if it seems more porny than educational.”

“So… I’m your control co-author,” Skip clarified.

Melody shrugged. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

Skip nodded. Had this come from a different source, they would probably have backed away, but they trusted Melody–or, at least, they trusted Melody to be true to her typical behaviors. Melody wouldn’t push Skip to actually get involved in anything. She was good about boundaries and wouldn’t step past Skip’s personal comfort zone.

“Let me think about it,” Skip lied. They’d already decided to say ‘Yes’, but they wouldn’t tell Melody for a day or two. By the time they’d said it out loud, they regretted not just saying ‘yes’, but it was too late now to pivot back to candor. “But I think I could make that work.”

The End

…

The Wasters will return in, ‘For Research Purposes Only’.

...

It's finished.

But it's not done just yet. This is the final chapter, but now begins the editing process - I'm going to go back through every chapter, make changes for continuity, foreshadowing, typo mistakes, and general polish, and then, when it's all said and done, I'll be posting this as a proper, complete ebook. (And, of course, the characters will be coming back in my next book!)

In the meantime, I want to say thank you so much holy shit to everyone who's read along with this piece. Two years of work and a whole lot of sweat and (other bodily fluids) went into making this, and it wouldn't be here without all of you to read it.

In particular, I want to thank my editor, Ezi, who came onboard partway through and I think can easily be credited with a marked upgrade in quality in the chapters after her arrival, and all of my subscribers and supporters who kept me financially solvent while writing this so I could give it the time and attention it needed.

I'm so grateful that I can dedicate myself to writing as much as I can thanks to all of you. ❤️

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