Grace lay next to Pearce on his bed, staring at the ceiling. They’d exhausted their collective energy on making out, and now, even as she knew they should have a conversation about what’d just happened, she couldn’t bring herself to it. She just wanted to sleep, savoring the lingering buzz of sensation that Pearce’s lips had left on her own.

Pearce shifted his body, and for a moment, Grace thought he might start snoring. She expected herself to get annoyed with that, but when she sought out the familiar emotion, she found nothing. It was charming, from the right viewpoint–he was so comfortable next to her that he didn’t mind dozing off.

But, instead of a snore, she heard his voice. “Do we want to call off the bet?”

And there it was–logistics. Something to break the spell.

She saw the logic in it–calling off the bet would simplify things. They wouldn’t be in contest with each other, constantly bucking for advantage, trying to trick the other or push them into frustration and humiliation. Trying to compete and kiss in the same breath could lead to deeply regrettable choices from everyone involved.

“How would we explain that to everyone?” Grace asked. “That we just decided to give up?”

“I don’t know, we could say that,” Pearce replied, moving his arm so that his fingers brushed against her skin. “We realized we were too stubborn to lose, so we compromised.”

“I’m not sure anyone will believe that. We’re too committed.” Grace pursed her lips.

“What about…the truth?” Pearce floated.

They both lay in silence for a moment, thinking about how that conversation would go. After a lengthy pause, Grace said, “I like this being our secret.”

More candid, Pearce said, “I don’t even want to imagine the giggling.”

Exhaling sharply through her nose, Grace nodded. “I don’t think we’re ever going to live this down, are we?”

“Only if they find out.” Pearce shrugged. “Still, we could come up with an excuse.”

Another bit of niggling doubt ate at the back of Grace’s thoughts, something she deflected with a more tangible objection. “I don’t think we could.”

“You’re smart, you could come up with something,” Pearce said.

“I’m smart, but Brains is a logic machine and Melody’s uncannily observant. I don’t know if I could invent an excuse that can slip past both of them.” She shook her head. “I want to keep the bet going for now.”

Pearce leaned up a little bit, turning to look at her face.

(He noticed,) Grace realized, her heart skipping a beat.

He said, “You still want to win, don’t you?”

Face twisting into a crooked smile, Grace nodded–she’d only halfway been caught, but it was better to admit a partial truth than the whole thing. “I don’t like losing, and I do like making you do my chores.”

“You mean, you like doing my chores,” Pearce retorted. “Since that’s what you’ll be doing once you lose, baby butt.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you can pull off the ‘charmingly cocky’ thing, because otherwise you’d be insufferably wrong right now. As it is, you're just wrong.”

He laughed. “Of course, maybe I am wrong…”

“Oh yeah?” Grace admitted. “Ready to quit?”

“No, that’s not it,” Pearce snickered. “Maybe you just like having poopy pants and you came up with this whole bet as a cover story.”

Grace forced out a laugh–she had to force it, because he’d come disturbingly close with his guess. She hadn’t invented the bet as some deliberate ruse, and she still didn’t have any love for dirty diapers; those parts were completely off base. However, she wasn’t ready to give things up just yet, and she didn’t want Pearce to walk out either.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said, forcing a smirk. “It’d give you an excuse to quit without admitting defeat.”

“Stinker,” he replied.

“We still need to figure out what we’re going to do about…this, though,” Grace said, pulling his blankets up a little more over her body. “What do we want to do?”

“I’m not sure what ‘this’ is.” Pearce raised his hands, making air quotes. “What are we? Friends that like to kiss?”

“I think the term is ‘friends with benefits’, usually,” Grace said. “Though…usually that comes with different benefits.”

“I see you naked a couple times a day,” Pearce pointed out. “A lot of guys would count that as a ‘benefit’.”

Grace turned so that Pearce could clearly see her raise an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t?”

“‘Seeing you naked’ hits different in the context of ‘cleaning up your potty pants’.” He shrugged.

(He didn’t say ‘no’,) Grace thought. (Is he being coy, or am I reading too much into that?)

Aloud, she said simply, “Okay, fair enough.”

“So, friends with smooching benefits.” Pearce moved on in the conversation, rolling around the words to see how they felt. “Sure. I think I like that.”

“And otherwise, nothing’s changed,” Grace said. “The bet’s still on. You’re still going to lose.”

“Sure, uh-huh.” Pearce rolled his eyes, sitting up. “It’s getting to be about dinner time. Do you want anything special?”

“Just whatever you were already making,” Grace said, “I’m not feeling picky.”

“Strained peas and mush it is.” Pearce winked and got to his feet, straightening his collar. “Shouldn’t take long.”

Grace shook her head and smirked, sitting up. “Hold on–you’re so rumpled you look like you just got run over.” Reaching out to him, she straightened his shirt, smoothing out the aftereffects of their makeout marathon. Running her fingers through his hair, she got rid of the worst of the birds' nests that’d formed. “There, that looks better.”

“Thanks,” he said, leaning in to give her a surprise kiss. Though they’d been doing roughly the same for the past hour, the gesture still sent a blush running to Grace’s cheeks, flushing bright pink while her heart fluttered. “I’ll be back.”

“Uh…” Grace said, smiling stupidly. “Uh huh. See you soon…”

He left her there, sitting on his bed, and she wasn’t sure if or when her heart would ever stop racing.

…

A warm buzz had settled over Pearce, a feeling reminiscent of being high without any of the impairment.

He didn’t know how to name this feeling, but a weight had been lifted as so many details came into focus. Emotions and reactions he hadn’t known how to parse had been clarified, uncertainty had crystallized into meaning, confusion was meaning.

He liked Grace. He like liked her. When they met, when they kissed, he didn’t feel anxious or unfocused, he didn’t feel like he was forgetting things and worrying about what he had to do. He found calm, and that calm came from someone he cared for on a deep level.

All but floating past Melody and her date, he waltzed to the kitchen, preheating the oven to cook a frozen pizza.

Friends with Smooching Benefits.

Beaming, he leaned against the counter, mostly on autopilot. His thoughts kept returning to Grace, and the perfect calm he found with her.

There was just…

(Screw it,) he thought. (Worst thing she can say is no.)

Emboldened by his good mood, he left to go back upstairs–he didn’t want to wait any longer for answers.

Grace was still in his room, on his bed, snuggled underneath his blankets. She looked up when he came in though, smiling at him. “That was fast.”

“Food’s not ready yet,” Pearce replied. “But…I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s that?” she asked, tilting her head. She seemed uncertain, as though worried, and that made Pearce worry in turn.

(Should I drop it?)

“You’re fine saying no,” Pearce said. “But…would you… Eh, do you want to be friends with more benefits?”

Her mouth opened in a little surprised ‘Oh’, like she’d been expecting a different question entirely. It took her a moment to process, and when she responded with words, she just said, “Pearce…I don’t know.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about it then, I just…wanted to ask, I guess.”

She glanced down, then back up, nodding. “That wasn’t a ‘no’, I genuinely don’t know.”

He nodded again, spirits lifting a little. “So…okay. Let me know once you’ve thought about it?”

“I’m not sure if I can think my way into an answer,” Grace admitted, sitting up. “It might require…a test.”

His eyebrows shot up another half inch, surprised yet again. “Oh! Well–Yeah, that’d be cool. I just don’t want to push you.”

“After dinner?” Grace asked. “We can…run some tests.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pearce agreed. “After dinner.”

He shuffled his feet, and Grace fidgeted with her hands.

“Maybe–” Grace started. “Maybe before?”

He nodded, more excitedly. “Before is good.”

Blushing, Grace said, “So–how do we do this?”

A smile broke across Pearce’s face. “Well, when two grown ups love each other very much–”

She rolled her eyes. “Just get over here, smartass.”

He crossed the room, sitting down on the bed next to her. He’d done this before–plenty of times, even–but with Grace, he felt like he was back at prom night, fidgeting and nervous about whether he could perform–this was a step beyond what they’d been doing, and even as smoothly as things had gone so far, the escalation worried him.

(What if I screw something up?)

“So…” he said. “I guess…”

“First,” Grace said, wrapping a hand around his chest and leaning in to kiss him.

Bliss.

Calm.

Uncertainty washed away, he pulled back and whispered, “Do you want me to finger you?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Mhmm.”

Reaching down, he had to undo the snaps on her onesie and pull it up, granting access to the top waistband of her diaper. Unsure if he should take it off or not, he went with his instincts, sliding his hand down the top of the diaper.

Grace was already wet–in both ways that mattered. She bit down harder on her lip in response to his touch, muting a moan so it wouldn’t carry out of the room, and then leaned forward to kiss him, hiding her moans in his mouth.

He felt her fingers against the front of his jeans, fumbling with the zipper–he was already hard, and just a little touch was enough to steal his attention.

“Good?” he asked in a breathy whisper, lips an inch from hers.

“Good,” she replied. “Very good.”

“Want to keep going?” he asked. She nodded emphatically, pulling him back onto the bed before locking their lips.

Together, the two of them experimented, explored, and learned about each other by their touch.