You know.

"So you have to do anything I want." Natalie said as they walked into the kitchen. Setting her purse on the counter, Naomi nodded.

"If it helps to think of it like that, yeah. I have to do anything you want." She immediately went to the sink and began scrubbing away at some dirty mugs.

"What's something you wouldn't already do for me?" Natalie wondered aloud.

"Collaborate with you on a list of my boundaries so that you can cross them?" Naomi suggested. "Other than that, uh, I don't know... let you pee in my mouth?"

Natalie made a face. "Why is that the first place your mind goes?"

"Remember when I said I couldn't lie to you? That doesn't mean I have to tell you the truth," Naomi continued. "I can warn you that there's a reason I kept this from you. If you tell me you really wanna know I'm not gonna withhold it from you. I don't think I could."

Natalie's stared in shock. "Naomi, do you have a piss fetish?"

"What?" Naomi's expression mirrored her girlfriend. "No, I thought you did!"

A beat passed and they burst into laughter. It felt good to just laugh and to hear each other laugh. Life felt almost normal for a moment.

"Why on Earth would you think I have a piss kink?" Natalie asked with astonishment. Naomi shrugged and asked if she really wanted to know.

"Yes, yes to all these little things. Don't worry about revealing low-level secrets. Let's say this: anything that would lead to a multi-day fight is off the table. One-day fights are fine. I wanna know why you would assume I want to bring urine into the bedroom."

"You just seem like the tyyyyyype," Naomi said in a sing-song voice and batted her lashes as she loaded the last dish into the washer.

"I seem like the type?" Natalie was aghast. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Look, I don't know," Naomi said. "Like, your personality seems like it would correlate with pissplay. God, this is so fucking liberating! Imagine not having to keep all those little secrets. Here's another one: did you know it was me that farted at your dad's funeral?"

"Jesus Christ, Naomi! We all blamed it on my grandma! People were retching!"

"Sorry, but she was too out of it to care. Victimless crime," Naomi said. "And to answer your question, I used to hang out with some crusty artsy bohemian punk types. You know, kids who can recite a dozen yacht brands off the top of their heads but want to give a big middle finger to the system. A lot of them were into some wild stuff, and all of them were oversharers. I know a lot more about most of them than I'd like."

"Get to the point," Natalie said.

Naomi smiled sympathetically. "Of course! I knew three different piss fetishists. They all had very similar personalities. Almost like they could be siblings, you know? Just identical vibes, totally different from everyone I've ever come across, with one exception."

Natalie was shocked. "So because I remind you of some perverts you knew, you think I wanna piss on you?"

Naomi grinned as she started the dishwasher. "Hey, I normally don't judge people for that kind of thing, but if you want me to I can." Natalie's frowned and Naomi's eyes flickered with anxiety. She gently guided Natalie to the couch, then walked around it. Natalie sighed as Naomi began to gently knead along the tops of her shoulders.

"Am I being too sarcastic?" Naomi asked earnestly. "Is it bothering you?"

Natalie grunted as she worked on a particularly tough knot. "I don't know. I mean, it's kind of annoying right now. You're telling me all of these secrets and saying you think I like golden showers and asking if you're being too sarcastic."

"Want me to dial it back a notch?" Naomi asked as she applied rhythmic pressure to the inside of Natalie's right scapula. "Right now it seems like you want me to act like I normally would but if you'd prefer me a little less mouthy, I can make that happen."

"What does that mean? You don't have to change your personality to be what I want!"

Natalie paused her massage for a moment. "Oh. I, uh, kind of already have?"

"What? You changed your personality? Bullshit!" Natalie spat the accusation with anger. "You haven't fucking changed."

"When's the last time I did dishes? Or gave you road head? Or casually discussed all the ways you could fuck with me? Babe, I'm already changing instinctively to be whatever you need. Instead of worrying about stopping it, why don't we work together to shape it? I think we'll both be a lot happier with the result."

This was a lot to process, so she let Natalie think about it. After a minute or so, Natalie seemed to make up her mind.

"You know, you're right. The only way out is through. I've got one question, though."

Naomi's hands were now moving fluidly along her spinal column, working each vertebra. "Yeah?"

"What the fuck did you eat before my dad's funeral?"