"Oh my god, do I ever." James glanced over at Mort, who was clearly getting well into the intricacies of slide rules. He'd probably pull out his ever-present carpenter's pencil and start scribbling diagrams on the napkins soon. "Mortimer used to feel pretty awkward about it, I think, but... well, you heard our story." James grinned. "I think I left out why we were talking about asexuality, though. Specifically, I was pretty broken up about my mom - as you'd expect - and I, um, stole his pillow to cuddle it. In my sleep." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "So he wakes me up and says, hey, give me back my pillow, you can hug me instead. Which we did. Only, well, my sister Janna walks in on us in the morning and what she sees is her brother and her brother's roomie cuddling in their underwear. So she... uh, mentioned it." James snorted with laughter. "Poor old Mortimer. He was not what you'd call queer-friendly, at the time - wasn't raised that way. So I wound up telling him hey, it's fine, I'm not into guys that way. And--" He shrugged. "It's me. I'm not that closeted. I threw in that I'm not into girls that way either." It'd been how many years now? He still had to stop and grin. This memory would never get old. "You should have seen his face. He looked like a groundhog seeing his shadow for the first time, and then he looked like... I don't know, Dorothy not being in Kansas anymore. You know how it is? When you figure it out - I mean, I've always known myself that I was ace, but other people. It's always magical, that look on their faces. The truth will set you free."

He glanced down at the table and took a sip of his neglected coffee. "Sorry, I'm kind of rambling on."