Human Design | Sirius Black

xxxx. Sins and Lust are the Best Drug

THERE WAS A reason men preferred wetter kisses. Men pass testosterone to their kissing partner through their saliva, which is obviously an aphrodisiac. Reece had read about it, but more importantly, he had learned it through experience, which he now had plenty of. 

Apparently, they were also supposed to pick up on women's estrogen levels to assess their fertility, but Reece had stopped reading at this part; he couldn't care less, nor did he have any experience in judging anyone's estrogen levels.

To him, life had become euphoric when he gave up on needing to know anything at all. He understood what Yrsa had meant when she said that she wasn't looking for answers because the questions were there all the same, and the answers only less clear, but they stopped bothering him. 

Of course, the fears and worries that had plagued him in England were still there, but he could ignore them, and when he couldn't ignore them, he could suppress them with any choice of sins: sex or drugs or alcohol, lust or gluttony or greed, whatever he felt like. Was the lifestyle sustainable? Probably not, but he had to live while he could – wasn't that what everyone had told him during the war? For now, it would be how he lived because it felt good. Welcome to the Cult of Dionysus.

There were many benefits to working at the bar of The Trashy & The Classy, such as free drinks and getting on Maggie's good side, and, of course, most importantly, the short distance it took to get to his bed when Reece's shift ended, be that alone or with someone he had picked up. It also meant that he didn't have to start adventuring home in the early morning hours; that role was delegated to whoever was staying with him.

"You know I've never had anyone cook for me before," said Noah excitedly from where he lay on his stomach, curled into the red sheets on Reece's bed. "I've always said it's the worst part of being gay."

"I think it's more to do with the fact that you're American and less with the fact that you're gay," said Reece, smiling as he chopped the red chilli into near-perfectly equal slices before adding them to the frying pan where the minced garlic and red onion sautéed. Really, it was that Muggles couldn't cook, but he couldn't say that, could he? So he would just have to resign to the stereotype of the foreigner who had moved abroad fully of their own free will and then proceeded to complain about how their native country did everything better. "All you do is alternate between frozen meals and microwave meals, and you never eat an actual meal." Microwaves were probably his least favourite ridiculous appliance; they made everything taste disgusting.

Noah said that it was a fair enough criticism, falling silent after that as he watched Reece add the black beans to the pan and then plenty of salt. Easy Lover played at a low volume on the radio, and Reece hummed along to it as he cooked. You'd better forget it, you'll never get it. Once the beans were warm, he plated them on top of the slices of tortilla bread with fresh kale and coriander and guacamole (which he had also made himself because whatever that stuff people bought in jars was, it was disgusting and probably unnecessarily unhealthy) before folding them up and walking over to sit at the foot of the bed. She will play around and leave you. Noah adjusted his position so that he could eat better, and Reece waited for him to take a bite, watching his reaction. "Oh yeah, this is really good," he said, swallowing. "Much better than anything my microwave could make."

"Yeah?" Noah nodded as he took another bite, and Reece smiled. "That's good."

Leave you and deceive you. Better forget it – oh, you'll regret it.

Sometimes he would discover that the men he had sex with weren't exactly the greatest people outside of the sex. Occasionally, he would find this out well after the fact and could definitely clear his conscience.