I should not be doing this.

Mo still sat in the chair at the coffee shop, shivering in the cold. Nia had left and all they had done was sit and stare at the cup she’d left behind. Their reunion had not sated any of the need that had driven them to reach out in the first place. Too lost in her to even notice she was leaving, Mo couldn’t find the words or the will to articulate what they wanted, if they even knew what they wanted at all. But they knew there was one thing they would have to do if they wanted to see Nia again. They had to end things with Janie for good.

Mo lay with their lover in their lap. A can of beer sat between Janie’s legs. Mo would curl a finger and she would hand it to them. Another quiet weekend night in. Mo often found themselves thinking about the way that their body met Janie’s. She was a small girl who’d stand on her tiptoes just to kiss their lips. They’d do the same thing every week: pick a movie, get a little crossfaded, make out. There was a time where they would speak excitedly about taking things further in their intimacy. Now both of them just stopped themselves before they reached the apex of their passion. Something always kept Janie from doing anything new. Here on the couch they reached another plateau of physicality, cuddling when they could be doing so much more.

Their movie was finished. Mo’s beer was finished. Janie rolled like a log to face Mo, and kissed them. They wrapped their fingers round her hips and held her tight. They let their tongue slip across Janie’s lips and her mouth slowly parted, tongues entering a delicate dance that quickly subsided as Janie broke the moment. Mo’s fingers curled at the hem of her shirt, desperately seeking the warmth of her flesh. She kissed their cheek, their jaw, but placed a hand atop one of Mo’s. They would go no further. Mo would spend the rest of the night choking on the need as they drank and cuddled so idly. How could Janie not see the Mo was a warm corpse for Janie to fit herself in the embrace of. Mo was meant to be without intent, without desire. Only Janie’s ever mattered.

On the drive home Mo went on a tour through their memories that quickly became a catalog of grievances. Missed calls, ignored texts, dates cut short, rendezvouses she was late for. All the things that grated against Mo, all the things that made their relationship difficult from the start had come to the forefront. All they could think of were the reasons they had to leave.

Nia was the biggest reason, of course. If Mo left Janie, they could be with Nia again. They could give themselves to someone who could give them everything they wanted. They could mend things with Nia and embrace so much more of their true, released self. So much of being with Janie kept Mo wound up in dissatisfaction. Nia unfurled Mo. Nia allowed them to release a deeper part of themselves that no one could match. The longer Mo thought about how much they missed it, the more they felt a sense of urgency in the reunification of their bond with Nia. All they had to do was cut Janie off, to make room for what they truly wanted.

I should not be doing this.

It echoed in their mind as they lounged around the house. Some dank crevice of their wandering mind pierced them. Mo did like Janie, a lot. They found such comfort in their consistency. But after all this time the consistency was not enough to soothe Mo’s real needs. They thought of all the times they had left Janie wanting more. Mo couldn’t blame them for it. If Janie didn’t want to perform that sort of role for them, who were they to force her to fit that mold? They’d be doing both of them a favor, really. Ending things, really ending things and getting out of this dead zone would let them both find the real right person for the both of them, just like Mo had with Nia.

Then the phone rang. Janie was calling. Janie never called. Hadn’t called in months. Mo picked up, their “Hey?” sounding confused and rushed.

“Hey!”

Janie let dead air fill the space between them.

“It’s, uh, been a while since we’ve talked. I’m sorry.” Mo stuttered.

“Well, I figured you were busy with work or something like that. But I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out with me tonight.”

Mo couldn’t believe what they were hearing. This was it, what they’d always wanted from Janie. Attention. Initiative. Thoughtfulness. Right?

“Where to?”

“Wanna grab a drink?”

“Honestly… it’s been so long since I’ve seen you I kinda just wanna be at home.”

“C’mon, Mo! I feel like going out. I want to see you. Come out with me.”

Mo needed a drink. All they wanted to do was tell Janie about Nia. That they weren’t happy with the way things had been going. But Janie was clearly trying her best.

“Sure. Want me to pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there. It’ll be like we’re meeting for the first time.”

Mo furrowed. What was this exactly? Was she planning something?

“Mo-” she continued, “I know you’ve been wanting something more exciting. And I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I do too.”

Janie’s voice became a more confident tone. Mo squirmed as she spoke so smoothly.

“I know I’ve never been perfect at the whole dynamic thing, but I want to try. So meet me at the club. I’ll be waiting for you. And you can try to pick me up.”

“Try?” Mo asked, confused.

“Well, I’m gonna make you work for it baby. If you want my attention, you can earn it.”

Fuck. They felt themselves getting hard at the thought. They groped their crotch over their pants with their free hand.

“Okay” was the only word Mo could put together in reply.

“Be there at 9. Don’t be late.”

They spent the remainder of the day in complete disarray, in a horrible wedge of overthinking and understimulation. Music, smoking, endless scrolling on the streaming services, trying to get started with a video game, but nothing quieted this newfound need for Janie. Earning it. That was all they wanted to hear. To have this invitation to earn the attention and intimacy they’d been craving for so long from their relationship. But as the hours passed it finally began to set in that Mo had no idea how to “earn” Janie’s newfound passion. They thought back to their first ever coffee date after some rote introductory conversation in the long-gone dating app chat log. Janie lacked knowledge of what really turned her on. While fooling around they’d flirted with impact, degradation, the basic stuff anyone with hands and mouths could do. They had very fine vanilla sex. After a while Mo had to use their imagination to get anywhere near the bare minimum required to satisfy. They thought of past escapades, fantasies yet to be realized, and moments of sound and passion that had ingrained into their memory. In these moments of course memories with Nia would creep in.

Janie’s voice on the phone was something else. Someone else who Mo was very excited to meet.

The dark club was bustling. Deafening music, flashing lights and bodies surrounding Mo as they searched for their lover. Their head was splitting as they searched. The echoes rattling off of the walls dragged them back to many nights that could only be recalled in fragments of déjà vu. Moments with Janie.

Then they saw her.

Mo had rarely seen Janie cradle a drink like that, or stand so still in a room so loud. But she was focused on something. Someone. A tall woman leaning into her.

Nia.

Mo stared until they were noticed by Janie. Her eyes were as inviting as they were in their happiest moments together. The rhythm of the music set Mo’s pace. They were only stopped by Janie’s hand on their shoulder.

“’re- you Mo?”

Janie sounded like she had been having fun for the first time in a while. Mo was transfixed by that joy, the magnetism in it that drew them to Janie when they had met. But Mo’s relief at Janie’s light demeanor was interrupted by the presence of Nia at her side. Why was she here? How did they know each other?

“Mo?” It was Nia’s voice this time. There she was again, getting in the way of the moment.

“Nia, what are you doing here?” Mo finally asked.

Her hand was on their face. She was caressing their cheek.

“Showing Janie a good time.”

What? When would Nia have possibly met Janie, much less gone out with her?

All questions Mo might have been able to begin to work through if they weren’t so distracted by Nia’s warm touch, and Janie’s laugh as she draped an arm on Mo’s shoulder.

“It was Nia’s idea to invite you.” Janie spoke with the drawn syllables of a drunk person trying to make sure they’re heard properly.

Mo was too overwhelmed to speak. Nia traced a finger from Mo’s cheek to their lips. Nia leaned in.

“Offen.”

Her finger was in their mouth. Their lips wrapped around the sweetness and sucked as it curled around their tongue. Their eyes lost focus. It took effort to make Nia’s face come into clarity.

“There’s a good toy.”

I should not be doing this.

But she was right. Mo had opened themselves to Nia’s control. It felt so good to surrender when they were together. They had missed that feeling of surrender all along. And here it was, theirs again.

“See? I knew it was a good idea to have you come out with us.” She curled her finger again as Mo’s tongue slid along.

Mo’s focus was entirely on Nia. The music was dulled, even Janie’s touch felt distant, lighter compared to the weight of Nia’s presence.

“But I suppose I should tell you what I’m doing here. Not that you have enough going on in your head to do more than listen and nod.”

Mo nodded and moaned as Nia’s voice drew them into her gaze.

“When I heard you and Janie were on a break, I couldn’t help but feel spite for you Mo. You left me for someone who bored you. Who couldn’t give you what I know you need. When we were together, you were happy. We were pure bliss. The same bliss you’re feeling right now. But then I thought about it more and more, I started to pity Janie.”

That word. Pity. Pondering the implication of it broke Mo’s concentration on Nia for a moment.

“Go ahead. Look at her.”

Mo’s eyes met Janie’s. Her eyes looked lost. Her mouth was filled with Nia’s thumb. She sucked on it eagerly, even while staring past Mo. How could this have happened?

“Doesn’t she look happier? Now that she knows what she can have out of a real dynamic? You don’t have to be happy for her, Mo. But you should know that she’ll be happier with me.”

Any questions of Nia’s hold over Janie faded as Nia made her threat. But Mo could do nothing. Only listen and worship. And it felt good to worship. It felt good to share this feeling of bliss with Janie. Finally after all this time, they shared the same passion. To both of them, sharing this moment was rapturously intimate.

“This is going to be the last time I let you open up for me like this, Mo.”

Mo realized now what Nia was doing. Nia was not just getting in their way of Janie. She was taking her for herself. Mo had led Nia right to her. And of course, they ended up being a perfect match.

“Janie is a great fucking subject. So well trained for me already and we’ve only known each other a week. She was just so eager to give herself to me. More eager than you ever were.”

A gasp. Mo was free. They had been abandoned, returned to the oppressive real world of the club and the horrible sight of their girlfriend completely enthralled by Nia.

“Look at how happy she is, Mo.”

They shuddered as a deeper understanding of Janie’s transfixed expression came to them.

She was happy. Happier than she’d ever been with them.

“I suppose I owe you a thank you.” Nia almost laughed. “For introducing us.”

Mo’s knees trembled. The music made their ears ring but Nia’s words pierced, hurting them even more.

“I wanted you to see what you could have had, Mo. What you gave up trying to make her into me, or by trying to be like me. Turns out she’s much happier being with the real thing.”

Mo watched the two of them all night as they drank, danced, kissed and felt one another up. Nia and Mo’s eyes would occasionally meet as the hours passed, but she wouldn’t speak another word to them, and they knew better than to try to get in between Nia and what she wanted. Even if what she wanted was supposed to belong to them.

She was right. Janie would be happier with her. And Mo was only getting in the way of that. She was better to Nia and Nia was better to her.

The clarity gave them no peace. The experience of watching them hurt, like someone holding their throat just tightly enough to make it difficult to breathe without ever giving them the relief of suffocation.

They only found the willingness to leave the club once Nia led Janie away. In the cold night air they shivered, alone.