Note: Hello! A very short and sweet piece for you. No demons or aliens this time, but a main character who uses they/them pronouns, so if you'll complain about that, well, there are other stories you can read. If you do read my story, let me know what you think!
-- Mx. MJ
Gerald was nervous. They looked at the small building, part of the local college, with curiosity. This spot was supposed to be big for 'cruising'--they had heard the term before, but until a conversation the other night never knew where that kind of thing could actually happen.
Anonymous sex, in a public place, sometimes without even actually talking to the other person. The thought was unusual, terrifying, liberating. Gerald had always gone to a bedroom to have sex, and always knew the other person's name. Cruising meant you could get caught in public, and you might not even recognize the person's face a week from now.
Gerald headed inside, going through a small side door. They found some steps going down into the basement, and found three classrooms and a bathroom. There was one class going on, but only a handful of students there. Gerald wondered to themself if any of them knew the reputation of the building they were in.
Gerald went into the men's room. Despite not being a man, they were almost always seen as one by other people, and using the men's restroom was generally safe. They walked in. There was a man standing at the sink, washing his hands. He briefly made eye contact with Gerald, before turning the water off and moving to dry his hands. Gerald headed to the far sink and washed their hands, then their face.
Was this guy a cruiser? He wasn't bad looking, and the thought of having sex with him caused a stir in Gerald's loins. They had imagined cruisers as being creepy old men trying to hook up with younger guys. This guy was a little bit older than Gerald, but not bad looking at all. Some voices started talking in the hallway--the class must have let out.
Gerald dried their hands off and went into the furthest stall and sat down, hanging their bag on the hook on the door. The door to the bathroom opened, and Gerald heard a few different voices exchange a greeting. The guy must be a student here, though he looked a little old to be in college. The voices died down, and more standard bathroom noises took their place. The urinal was used and flushed, the sink ran and paper towels were dispensed. The bathroom door opened and closed again, and all was quiet.
Some moments passed. Gerald felt ridiculous. What were they doing? Sitting in a stall listening to strangers' conversations. They stood up to go, when they heard the neighboring stall door open and shut. They didn't realize there was anyone still in the bathroom. Perhaps the guy had continued to loiter after his friends came and went? Or was it one of the other voices that stayed behind? Gerald froze in their stall. A sudden, almost sharp, tap of a foot came from the other stall, very close to where Gerald was standing. They didn't know what to do.
The tapping sound came again.
Gerald placed their foot near the wall dividing their stall from the next. Gerald tapped their foot distinctly. Another tap came from the other stall, and Gerald responded with a second tap of their own. A third tap came, and Gerald--not quite knowing what sudden inspiration seized them--reached their hand under the stall and gestured for the person to come closer.
