A quick blip noise told me that Manu had connected to the video chat. I hopped up from my bed and sat down in front of my laptop.

"Hey there, Chameleon," he said with a grin.

Obliging him, my face immediately flushed. "Hello, Manu," I said, trying to pretend that I wasn't absolutely pleased by my body's involuntary response. I sat down, plugged my earbuds into the jack, and popped them in my ears.

"Loving the outfit," he said.

I'd been lounging around in my room, and he'd seen me on my little camera as I walked over. I had a loose blue sweatshirt on.

That was it.

He would have been able to see my bare lower half as I made my way over to the computer, but once I sat I was only really visible from the bust up.

"Yeah, it's warm in here, thought I could cool off a bit," I said.

"By being as hot as possible?" Manu retorted with a wink.

I got warmer in the face. "I could get nakeder."

"I sure wouldn't object. So," he said, clearly changing the subject, "how's your week going?"

How was my week going? "Well, I was up late, and I slept through my morning classes, so there's that."

"Ouch. Schoolwork?"

I hesitated. "Yeah, pretty much," I lied. I didn't really want to admit what I had been doing.

"I do remember those days," he said, and I felt a little pang of guilt for the misplaced sympathy. "Sometimes I'm not sure why I'm trying to go back."

"Because you're good at science," I answered.

"Oh yeah, shit. Guess I'd better keep at it, then."

"You'd better. I like your science."

He laughed. "I haven't even shown you any biochemistry."

"I like the science you've shown me." I paused. "And done to me."

"Oh good. Want a little more?"

"Now?" I tried not to sound excited.

He shook his head. "Thursday, when you come over."

"Perfect. Sounds great. What's in mind?"

"I wanna know more about this power you have, right? And you do, too?"

"You just want me to read to you again," I accused jokingly.

"Yeah, but that comes after the experiment." He was wearing a mysterious smile that said that he wasn't going to actually tell me more about what he had in mind.

"Is that what you've been doing since Sunday? Planning an experiment?" I asked.

"Believe it or not, no," he replied. "Yesterday I had a long-standing, long-planned dinner with... a friend."

I noticed the little hesitation. "A friend?"

He nodded. "Yeah, just... wasn't super sure how to define the relationship. An old fling, we keep in touch, and... uh..."

I smirked. "It's okay if you slept with her—"

"Him."

"—him, then, it's not like we're exclusive or something."

"You're sure? Because, uh, we didn't, but it was... close, let's say."

I was curious. "Close? How close?"

"There was a lot of making out on the couch."

"Nice." I gave a thumbs-up gesture. "I hope you didn't stop because of me."

Manu shook his head. "Nah, it was getting—it was already late, he had to go home, and he didn't want to stay over. He's not out and his parents are weird about all things queer, and he didn't want to have to explain." He paused, and I waited, and he said, "You're cool with all that?"

"Hm... I mean, yeah, but..." I realized what my words sounded like. "Oh wait, no, it's not a problem at all, I can just see that maybe some time in the future it might be? Maybe? I dunno. Uh, something to revisit later? And so long as I have the same latitude, not that I've got anyone to kiss at the moment who isn't you."

"Well, if the opportunity comes up, take it!"

I mimed a salute, and Manu laughed. "I'm not sure when it might," I said.

A memory, only two days old, surfaced, of Rita assuring me that if I wanted to, that opportunity could be mine. I didn't correct my statement.

"Pretty and talented woman like you? Especially with what you can do?"

Especially with what I can do. Eight women sitting in the lounge in an erotic trance, because of what I had said, reflecting on my time together with Manu. Rita, who shared that ability, was just as affected—maybe more—than the others.

"I bet if you wanted to try playing for the other team, you wouldn't have any trouble finding someone to experiment with," Manu continued.

"Right now, the only experimentation I want to do is with you." And maybe doing a couple more readings in the lounge...

Manu winked. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too."

After a warm moment of silence, Manu asked me a different question. "So you've had a couple late nights, you holding up okay?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, probably not. Like I said, slept in this morning. And slept in Sunday, too, after being out so late." I sighed. "Probably can't keep that up."

"Yeah, not and keep up the academics. Guess I shouldn't ask if you want to stay over."

Academics triggered something in my mind. "Oh shit," I said. "Rita wanted me to look into a Thursday evening class."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm, she mentioned it Saturday and I nearly forgot. 'Poetry in Performance' or something like that. Apparently it's a pretty small bunch and I would benefit from it."

"Makes good sense," Manu said with a nod. "So when can I see you?"

"I mean..." I shrugged. "You could pick me up after."

"That'd be pretty late, though, right? Evening classes are—"

"Yeah, 6:30 to 9:30."

"Doesn't bother me."

"I don't have class until Friday afternoon..."

He grinned. "Gonna bring a bag this time?"

"Guess I probably should, huh. I'll warn you, though, that's kinda dangerously close to my time of the month."

"Blood washes out."

"It's not the blood," I explained. "I'm one of the lucky one in ten that doesn't have a period with my IUD. I mean, I get a bit of spotting, but... This is gross, isn't it?" I asked.

Manu laughed. "Nah, I had health class, and other girlfriends, and a mother who was maybe a little too open about these things."

"Oh, good. Living with a bunch of women, sometimes I forget that some guys can't take the facts of life. Anyway, before the birth control, things used to be pretty... irregular." I hedged, trying to keep the descriptiveness to a minimum. "Some months a lot, some a little, whatever, but what was fairly consistent from my teens on was that I turn into a crying depressed rage demon full of pain, nausea, and aggravation, and that part still usually happens. I'd say there's about an eighty percent chance of you getting to put up with that."

"Because there's an eighty percent chance that you'll be in that condition?"

"More or less. There's leeway of maybe a day or two, but maybe twice a year I don't get all anger-beast-y"

"Is that a poetic term?"

I laughed. "I only write poetry. I talk mostly normal."

"When you're not reciting poetry."

"Hm. Yeah."

There was an expectant pause. Expectant on both ends. I could almost see Manu waiting for me to start speaking in verse; meanwhile, I was also waiting for something to happen.

Beside the laptop, the sketch of the fire shed warmth I couldn't understand.

He broke the silence. "We're... both just waiting for something to happen, yeah?"

"Mhmm, I think so," I responded.

"I guess that's the downside of starting a relationship with such a bang," Manu shot back with a laugh. "It's tough to have something..."

"Normal?"

"Uh huh, yeah. What do poets talk about when they're just sitting around enjoying each others' company?"

"You're not a poet."

"No," he admitted, "but I'm in love with one, and if that leads anywhere, I'll likely have to spend time with other poets at some point."

Hearing him say that he was in love, hearing him say that there was a future, made something like joy leap in the pit of my stomach. "Uh, y'know, chat about our days, talk about our jobs, our relationships, discuss the function of meter and rhyme scheme to elucidate mood and create atmosphere, you know, the uszh."

"Sounds absolutely fascinating," he said, and I could tell he meant it. "How was your day?"

I shrugged. "You already know how it started."

"Mhmm, and after lunch?"

"You know, a day in the life. Couple classes, a little walk for exercise, dinner, studying, video chat with a biochemist I'm planning on banging."

"Heh. No poetry?"

I shook my head. "Not feeling it today, not much. Can't be creative all the time."

"Fair. And your job?"

"Don't need one. Parents funding me."

"Ooh, rich kid, huh."

I laughed. "Not really, no. You?"

"Honestly? Same. My parents put me through school, then decided they could pay for my apartment and gap year—'one year only!' my mom says," Manu's voice got higher and thickly accented, and he wagged his finger at the camera, "—because they were selling their huge house and buying a small condo near my mom's parents and sister on the coast."

"We are the privileged, aren't we."

"If you discount your gender and my skin colour, yeah, we are."

I laughed a bit bitterly. "Doesn't matter how comfortable things get, right? Always some reason to punch down." I sighed. "I'd bet you have more stories than I do."

"You should hear the stories my mother tells. Anyway, this isn't what we're here to talk about, and I'm kinda sorry I brought it up. It's not a happy subject and nothing we can do anything about."

"And there's enough going on right now that I can't do anything about."

Manu nodded agreement. "Of course, there's a lot going on that you have some influence over, too."

I smirked. "True enough."

"Thinking of that," Manu continued, "are you going to sign up for that performance course?"

"Yeah, I... oh, you mean I—"

"Yep, you should probably get that done soon as you can, right?"

"Because you want to find out what I can do with stronger ability to perform."

"I... yeah, well, I'm not going to lie, I suppose. Maybe I should." He grinned.

A memory of the six women in the photo on Rita's phone came to mind.

Manu continued, "The thought of being the head of a little harem devoted to your poetics is... maybe a bit inspirational all on its own."

"Just a bit, huh?"

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Well, while we're not lying... I wouldn't mind having a bunch of you around."

"The poet would like to get herself a flock of little lambs, then?" He laughed.

"Well, wouldn't you? Or I guess you'd like to be part of one."

"Sounds great to me. When you're busy there's a whole bunch of us to keep ourselves entertained..."

It was my turn to laugh. And to blush at the thought. "Where are we going to find these cute bisexual boys that long to be dominated?"

Manu gave me a disbelieving look.

"What?" I asked.

"Have... Chameleon, have you met the Internet?"

I put a hand to my forehead. "I mean, I'm not that sheltered. What, so you seriously think we should just go online looking for hot submissive—"

Manu raised a hand. "No one said you had to. Maybe that should be my job."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that would be such a chore for you. Vetting all the applicants in person, assessing them, inspecting..."

"Hey, we also have to make sure they respond properly to you and your words, right? And we can't go bringing in an undercover agent or something."

I snickered. "This isn't a spy thing."

"It could be, don't you think? You have the potential to do all kinds of things that governments and corporations would just love to have..." He trailed off.

Something inside me went a little cold, and I could see something inside of him do the same.

"Yeah, maybe I don't want to use my writing for that," I said, and I think I sounded a little upset, maybe offended.

He nodded. "Yeah, sorry, shitty joke. Besides, I can't imagine this... gift, or presence, or whatever, would be okay with that."

He was absolutely right. I could feel the thought of it twisting in my gut. "Yeah, I think that would just... gah, I don't even know. I think that's a line we can't really cross, even to experiment with? Ugh, I don't know the rules, or whatever, and it's frustrating. Rita talks about radical honesty, and how using her gift for convincing people of lies would be crossing an ethical boundary. And yeah, the thought about... I don't know, writing poetry that could get me information I'm not supposed to have..." or hide myself in shadows while I masturbate in an open field, I thought to myself, suddenly feeling that chill like a knife. 'Let no one know but the stars themselves'...

Manu nodded. "Sure, I... I could see that, maybe? I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't be experimenting?"

I shook my head. "No, no, let's. I want to... I want to test the limits. I want to test my limits. I want to know where the poet ends and the poetry begins, you know? And just what affects me and how and... I don't have the community around me that Rita has, so I want to find things out before I get out into the world. And... and being honest about it, I don't want to accidentally make more devoted love-slaves."

"Accidentally?" I appreciated how he didn't pick on the word 'more.'

"Uh huh. Deliberately, intentionally, sure. But I need to know what the responsible use of this... this art looks like, right? You follow?" I sighed. "I don't know, if Tempest Kind finds out what her music does to me, will she be okay with that? Is that something she's allowed to do? She just put a music video out on the internet that literally caused me to black out and strip off my shirt, is that even a... a moral thing to do with something... with an... I don't..."

Manu nodded as I trailed off. "Yeah, I hear what you're saying, but... But I don't think you can really ever be fully responsible for the way your audience responds, right? Like, should the Beatles be blamed for Charles Manson? Do we fault Catcher in the Rye for Mark Chapman killing John Lennon? The weird reaction some people had to the Joker movie can't really be blamed on the filmmakers."

"I think that's a bit different, though? I dunno. The power we have... Tempest knows what it can do to people, right? Surely? She's caught people in this... Ugh, I should—"

"You should get more information so you can be better aware of what you're up against, and—"

"—and that means talking to Rita."

Manu nodded. "Yeah, same wavelength."

"Happens to us a fair bit, right?"

"I... yeah." Manu seemed a bit hesitant. I waited for him. "I... hm. I'm not sure how to explain this, and not really sure if I should explain it, or even try to."

I felt my head tilt in confusion.

"Well, you're not the only one having a supernatural experience, you know? I, uh... well, I'm starting to find myself thinking... uh... Maybe it's just that I'm in love or something or..."

"Manu? What is it?"

"I'm... I don't know. I'm looking beyond science right now for things, which is... Okay, this is going to sound stupid."

I couldn't help myself and I giggled. "Manu, everything about the past few days would sound stupid if either of us tried to explain it, right?"

"Yeah, I... I guess." He still seemed reluctant and embarrassed. "There was... After I dropped Santiago off, there was this... tension in me. Not... I mean, I didn't feel wrong, I would have first thought that it was guilt or shame or something, but it wasn't, I didn't feel like I'd betrayed you or anything, I just... this wasn't that. This was... fuck me, I'm no good with the language, not like you are."

I could recognize a moment to act. "Manu," I said, confidently. He looked up at the screen.
The fire in me calls to the fire in you
The truth in me calls to the truth in you
The power in me calls to the power in you
The security in me calls to the security in you
The words in me call to the words in you

My heart, and my arms, itched. I resisted the urge to give in, and continued.
The knowledge in me demands the knowledge in you
The understanding in me seeks the understanding in you
The love in me yearns for the love in you
The story in me will hear the story in you

His intake of breath shook so much I could hear it in my ear buds.

"I wasn't able to get off. Not that I couldn't do the act, but... I came back to my apartment all sexually charged and ready to find a release, but everything around me felt humid. The air was damp. I wondered at first if there was some kind of plumbing problem. I stripped naked. I sat on my bed. I was waiting, I don't know what for. I could smell flowers, see flowers that weren't there. And I think I slept there for a while, just sitting on the side of my bed, naked and hard, and time slid past me. At some point I felt warm, warmer. I felt like the walls were closing in, but it wasn't frightening, just... factual. And then I heard your voice, your poetry, echoing through the... It wasn't a memory. It wasn't an illusion, a hallucination. You were writing something, creating something, making something happen in the world. And then there was this rush of fire, and my hand was stroking my cock and I was spurting everywhere, and time just... held still for me. I could have done anything right then. The more dreamy, fantasist part of me wanted to walk out into the world naked and just go visit you in the dorm. Instead, it all rushed in on me, and I just... woke up. Head on the pillow, under the covers. Late, because I'd been sitting on the edge of my bed for hours instead of sleeping, not that that matters when I don't have a fixed schedule. And so I showered and went about my day, but... But I don't know." The confidence that had been there a moment ago faded a little. "Saying it back sounds... ridiculous. Maybe I dreamt the whole thing, you know?" Still, he was calm, collected now. "But it didn't feel, doesn't feel like a dream. It feels like something that actually happened. The edges of it aren't fading like a dream, nothing in there was out of place like a dream." His eyes, wide now, reflected just a touch of the fire I knew so well, and yet didn't know at all. I let him continue. "There's something deeper going on, and while I'm curious about it, I don't really want to study it, you understand? I don't want to look into it with the lens of the scientific method. I just want to... to experience it. To be a part of it."

And then, impossibly, his voice became low and smooth, and something in it was more than human.
I don't want to take a sample of the water, I just want to swim in it

I smiled. "Manu, that was... poetic."

He shuddered and smiled at the word. "Thank you."

Everything in my torso itched. I shifted a bit. The description he had given me was arousing, and not just sexually. Spiritually.

He could see it in me. "You don't want that sweatshirt on, do you."

"No, I don't," I answered.

He smiled. "Take it off."

I did. Smoothly. I was naked. I didn't notice when it was that he'd done the same. Maybe it was when I was reciting poetry to him. Maybe it was during his story. Maybe when he spoke his one poetic line. Maybe when I was taking mine off. But we were there, on the camera, together, naked, turned on.

"I..."

He nodded. "I know. Too loud, right?"

I nodded back.

"Then let me admire you," he said, and I shifted back, put myself on display from my hips up to my head, spread my legs so he could more easily see my hand working gently, enough to keep my arousal, not enough to push it beyond where it was—I knew that pace very well—and so he could watch my expression, my eyes closed in ecstasy, imagining, dreaming of that moment, of what we might have done last night with the world stopped around us and the freedom to exist in shadow.

I didn't need to see him. I could hear him. Hear his breathing, hear his gasps. His familiar moans. I echoed more than one of them, softly.

When he came it was like fire inside me, a burst of impossible starlight stretching across time and space, and my body's response was not orgasm, not exactly, more... acceptance. It wasn't... it was more than sexual. It was a loving embrace, a literal act of love, that surrounded and enveloped me in a way I'd never felt before, and it was as undemanding as you could imagine.

There was no need to acknowledge it, no need to acknowledge anything. We sat there on camera in comfortable, beautiful, naked silence for some time, just enjoying the image and sound of each other's presence even if we were nowhere close by. And together, when the watching was done, we said:

I love you

and we signed off.