"... so," Auggie mumbled. "W-what um, what should I say to her? About the uh, the thing. The stuff."

Glenn's expression brightened; he looked mischievous, excited. As if being a wingman to his shy counterpart had made his evening. "Shit, just like, keep it simple. Basic. Don't lead with the super kinky stuff, or maybe do, cause then you'll find out real fast if she's interested or not. But also, I feel like that's probably just stupid advice too? Just say what feels right to you, I guess."

August let out a shaky exhale and nodded, his face hot as he considered everything. This couldn't be happening—was he really about to text Mr. Wrong Number about his sexual interests? No way.

"Come on," Glenn poked his arm. "Just do it. What's the worst that can happen?"

Auggie gave him a deadpan look and raised a brow, "uh, I think the worst that can happen is she ghosts me and labels me as a freak in her contacts before blocking my number."

An evil, teasing grin stretched across Glenn's features. "Damn, you're that freaky? Wouldn't 'a thought, but hey, they always say it's the quiet ones..."

"I am not a freak—I mean, not like that!" Auggie stammered. "I-I just, I'm not good at this sort of thing. I don't wanna sound stupid or embarrassing. Besides, I don't even know what I like. I mean, I do, but more in theory... 'least not in real life..." his voice trailed off, as if he were saying that last part aloud more for himself than anything, but Glenn took to the statement like wildfire at the height of a California summer.

"Hold up," he gasped. "You never been laid before? Bro..."

"Fuck off," August scowled. "Not everyone has to be um, experienced or whatever... it'll happen someday. Anyway, I'm not rushing it and making fun of me doesn't help—"

"—not making fun." Glenn put his hand up in surrender. "Scout's Honor! But you do know what that means?"

"No?"

"Means we gotta get you laid, which means you're gonna need as much help as you can get, shy boy."

August felt hot all over. He'd never been confronted like this before about his lack of experience sexually, and while the enthusiastic support of hot-guy-Glenn boosted his confidence a bit, he couldn't pretend that getting laid would be as easy for him as it likely was for Glenn. Auggie couldn't erase the truth about who he was, about his anatomy; that Glenn and Auggie didn't exactly have the same set-up between their thighs. To many prospective sexual partners, that sort of thing could make or break their interest in August. Even if it sucked to admit, he knew it to be more than true.

Auggie couldn't pretend that he wasn't a trans guy—that was one part of his identity that he could never erase or ignore. He never regretted his transition, or the choices he'd made for himself, his body, but that didn't also mean dysphoria wasn't a daily battle for him either. Sure, he was far happier as a man, and transitioning had saved him in so many ways, but kicking that bottom dysphoria wasn't easy. Shit, dysphoria in general.

Who I am feels like opening a can of worms, Auggie lamented mentally.

Glenn let out an exhale and studied his new, smaller friend, "... hey, don't stress. You don't gotta get laid if you don't wanna. I know I'm forward and loud, but don't feel like you gotta agree with everything I say either. I ain't offended. Just sayin' you're a cute guy; got that pretty-boy sorta look goin' on, and some girls totally dig that."

He thinks I'm pretty.

August brushed some hair behind his ear, glancing from the phone at Glenn. "You really think I'm pretty?"

He hadn't expected a serious response out of the man, let alone to watch his face to turn a deep shade of pink at Auggie's question, but it seemed Glenn had surprises of his own.

"Uh..." Glenn cleared his throat and shrugged. "I mean—"

"Or were you just being nice?"

Glenn stuttered and dropped his attention to the Koi pond, but even the back of his neck was blushing now. Auggie didn't mind cornering him like this, it was oddly satisfying, and Glenn's blushing face got him feeling some type of way.

"I uh, I wouldn't bullshit you on that." Glenn's deep voice lower, quieter than it had been since their conversation began. "Yeah, you're pretty."

Auggie felt a genuine smile tug at the corner of his lips, his chest might've even puffed out a little at the compliment. That was the first time a man had ever called him "pretty" to his face and apparently meant it.

"Well," he hummed, suddenly feeling a little playful, ambitious even. "I suppose if I really am that pretty then I could give it a go."

Glenn straightened, eyes finally meeting Auggie's. "That's the spirit."

August let out a breath, produced his phone, and began to text. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Glenn silently dying of curiosity, as if he so desperately wanted to watch over his shoulder to "supervise" and give him pointers, but he stayed put. Fidgeted with his empty glass.

Amber-brown eyes raced back and forth as Auggie double, no, triple-checked his message, and even though his heart was going crazy at that point, he forced himself to swallow down the nerves and do what he didn't think he could: hit send.

But then he hesitated.

"... this is... are you sure I should send this?" he winced, almost looking to Glenn for what... strength?

Glenn perked up—confident grin and all. "Would it help if I proofread for ya? I'd say if its unhinged or nah."

August blushed, hesitant, unsure, nervous. But if Glenn could help him out and perfect his message, maybe give him a better chance at 'success', then would that really be so bad?

"Please," he relented.

Glenn rubbed his hands together and let out an excited giggle—it sounded almost maniacal. "The doctor is in," he purred. "Don't you worry pretty boy, I got you. Now," he put his hand out and wiggled his fingers for Auggies phone. "Let's see what we're workin' with here."

August's stomach twisted with embarrassment; sort of like his body was trying to tell him this was a terrible idea. But then again, Auggie's body pretty much acted like everything was a bad idea, so he chose to dismiss the feeling. He passed the phone to Glenn.

"Thank you," Glenn winked.

Dimples, of course he has dimples too—why hadn't Auggie noticed them sooner? He was such a sucker for dimples.

Glenn smirked as he began to read the text, whilst Auggie leaned over his shoulder to watch. But no sooner had Glenn begun to read did his expression change entirely; in fact, his face sort of went through a metamorphosis in its own right.

What could be worse?

August felt frozen in place; glued to his position overlooking what was quickly becoming a disaster. It was like he'd gone mute. On the one hand he was too humiliated to speak, while on the other he was too afraid to try and yank the phone away. The look on Glenn's face made August want to dive face-first into a speeding bus.
First, there was the blatant confusion—hesitation first—as if Glenn thought he may have misunderstood. Then came what appeared to be embarrassment, his cheeks flushing pink, and he couldn't stop clearing his throat. Third? Realization followed by enlightenment.

... or maybe horror? Auggie couldn't quite tell, but he also didn't wanna stick around to find out.