Work Text:
While Ace was somewhere in the dorm and his other two roommates were sleeping over with friends in different dorms, Deuce was reading a book on his bed. It was just after 10 P.M and he was planning on going to bed once he finished the chapter he was on since he only had a few pages left.
Right as he finished a paragraph, his phone began to ring. Sitting up, he reached over to grab it off his desk and a smile grew on his face when he saw that it was his boyfriend calling him.
“Hey, Epel, what’s up?”
“D’ya ever think it looks cool when ya get period blood on yer hands?”
Deuce blinked, uncertain if he heard him right. Was Epel talking too fast? Was the question meant for someone else near him? Did he mean to call someone else?”
“What?”
“Ok, so, y’know how when ya take yer cup out, the blood sometimes overflows ‘cause of the angle an’ how ya gotta grip the sides ta take it outta yer pussy?”
“I… I do, yeah.”
“When ya finish dumpin’ out the blood an’ yer able to put the cup in the old wrapper, do you ever just… look at your fingers before ya wash ‘em? D’ya look at the way the blood stains yer skin and think it looks kinda cool? Like, it’s kinda aesthetic-y, don’t you think? I mean, I don’t really know wut the aesthetic is, but I think it’s kinda epic.”
Deuce stared at the bed in front of him while he thought about Epel’s questions. Well, he tried to, but he was so bewildered by his thought process that he wasn’t able to think about his own experiences with taking out his menstrual cups.
“Are you on something?”
“No! I was just changin’ out my cup before bed and a lotta blood spilled over my fingers—”
“Wait, are you calling me while you’re changing your cup right now?”
“Don’t worry, yer on speaker and I didn’t touch my phone t’call ya.”
“What about your roommates? The Pomefiore bedtime’s, like… eight, right? Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”
“Nah, I’m stayin’ the night in Savanaclaw fer practice tomorrow and I’m stayin’ in an unused third-year room, so I’m good. Don’t gotta worry ‘bout nobody.”
If it weren’t for the fact that Deuce knew that Savanaclaw members were extremely respectful towards the trans men on campus, he probably would have been nervous about hearing that. Putting that aside, the fact that Epel was calling him for such a strange reason was something he still couldn’t fully wrap his head around.
“Okay, so you’re telling me that while changing out your menstrual cup, you stared at your bloody fingers, thought it looked cool, and then called me to ask if I’ve ever done the same?”
“Yeah! My fingers look so cool right now, honey— like, I’m kinda considerin’ taking a picture for ya—”
“Please don’t.”
“But the blood’s drippin’ an’ stainin’ in such an artistic way!”
“I don’t need to see that though, Epel!”
“Well, have ya ever looked at your own hands when takin’ out yet cup?”
“No, because that’s weird! I’m more focused on getting the new cup in and getting out of the bathroom!”
“Okay, but think about it: remember the last time ya had your period and how yer fingers looked after pullin’ it out.”
Even though he didn’t really want to answer Epel’s question, he tried to look back to that time. It had been two weeks since it had happened and he recalled a specific moment when he was struggling to push the cup into a grabbable range. Once he had finally been able to grab the lip, there had been a large gush of blood that washed over his fingers and into the toilet bowl and he pulled the cup out as quickly as he could to dump what was left out.
The memory was very strong in his head since that one second of getting the lip between his fingers and starting the changing process made him instantly lightheaded. Nothing like that had ever happened before, so he had to grip the nearby counter to keep himself grounded before he pulled the cup out and put it in the wrapper.
This is when he remembered not only how the blood coated his digits, but also how the blood looked trailing down into the sink when he washed them to open the new cup.
With the sound of crinkling plastic on the other end of the line, Deuce blinked back into reality and moved to lean into his headboard. The fact that he actually had an answer made him playfully roll his eyes as he sighed and held onto the curious excitement surrounding how Epel would react.
“Okay, I thought about it.”
“And?”
Deuce let the line go silent for a few seconds to add to the drama while also giving Epel time to open the new cup and wait for his reply. He gave a small series of chuckles that made Epel freeze while he squeezed the sides of the cup and encouraged him to slide it in as quickly as he could -while being careful to make sure it went in all the way at the right angle, as always.
“It kinda did look cool…”
“Ha! I told ya!” He laughed as waves of jittery elation ran through him. He grabbed some toilet paper and folded the squares over one another until he had a good amount for wiping himself up, making sure all of the blood was gone from the front before he took care of the back. “Now next time yer on yer period, ya gotta actually look at yer hand and admire how cool the blood makes it look.”
“Okay, I will.”
He only really said it to get Epel to stop talking about it, but he did have a small smile as he thought about how happy he was to hear the agreeing answer and he decided that he’d make an effort to try and pay attention for him next time.
“Is that it?”
“Yeah, that’s all. G’night, love ya!”
“I love you too, you dork.”
Ending the call there, Deuce set his phone down and replayed the call in his head, shaking it after a few seconds to clear his thoughts and return to his book.
“Sometimes I feel like he hangs out around Ace too much. Pomefiore probably has him affected too for him to call the blood ‘artistic’.”
But when he thought about it more, there was something artistic about it. Thinking about just his hand coated in blood -the three fingers that actively pulled out his cups and the few digits on his other hand that occasionally got stained when he had to separate his labia to make room for everything- added a sort of vibe to the process. The idea had some sort of power attached to it that made him feel better about the suffering that came with the pain and the unwanted parts he was born with. It made him feel stronger, braver… more attractive?
Deuce couldn’t really find all of the words he wanted just by thinking about those moments, but he agreed that menstrual blood dripping down one’s hand was definitely part of some sort of aesthetic that he liked.