My Ideal type?
“I just had an Autistic orgasm.” the brunette man squeals.
“What the hell–”
“Wait no, I’m sorry” he scrambles to correct himself. “That’s not a thing”
“Are you saying Autistic people can’t orgasm?” The green-haired person next to me chuckles.
“No! I’m... it was like- in my brain- the bubbles just felt really good!” He slips down into the hot tub. “Umm… what’s a better word?”
Sitting up out of the bubbles, I scoff, “Not that!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, uhhhh...” he’s actually turning red now. “That was a … a good stim for my brain?”
You know, normally when people think of Support Groups, they imagine sitting around in a circle of chairs and talking about how much they hate themselves and their lives.
Not sitting in a hot tub with two Queer Autistic weirdos who surely gotta be slap happy from the bubble jetts and the cool summer sunset air.
I barely know these people but what I know is the brunette has apparently just realized he’s a raging bisexual (I knew since the first time I saw him, haha) and then the one with the green hair is the spawn of a southern baptist man and an redheaded woman who’s the daughter of an “Appalachian voodoo witch”.
To be completely honest, I don’t even know the brunette man’s name. I don’t really recall anyone else’s names besides the group leader’s children and Fern (the one with the green hair). The only reason I remember Fern’s is because it aligns with Adventure Time, a show Fern really really likes.
But seriously, I can actually feel myself losing all my reserve just because how are you supposed to behave like a mature normal person after that? I’m pretty sure at some point this dude said something about spreading his legs while looking at a hotdog?
None of this would have been something I’d witness if it weren’t for the group leader Eudora talking about how I hadn’t come to her Autistic Support Group’s monthly meetings in a while and then actually sending me a text today. She said because she lives literally one street away from me, it would be a good idea for me to come to her little summer pool party.
“There’s like a part of my pants that’s just rising right now,” the brunette man says, referring to the water getting under the swim trunks.
I facepalm as I laugh over the sound of bubbling water. “Dude, this is why people stereotype autistic people as completely oblivious.”
“I don’t do this on purpose! I just say stuff and it comes out wrong!”
Fern sarcastically hums, “Uh huh.”
Sitting nearby on her back porch’s staircase, Eudora interjects, “But I have yet to have met an Autistic person that doesn’t do that.”
I lean over the edge of the tub, laughing, “There’s stuff coming out wrong, and then there’s whateverhedoes.”
Considering this is my first summer pool party since freshly graduating highschool, I honestly kind of like that I’m just relaxing in a hot tub with two weirdos that are like five years older than me while the rest of the group splashes around in the big cold pool.
There’s worse ways to spend a day.
Now we’re sharing coming out stories, comparing queer experiences, and talking about preferences.
“You wanna know what you need?” Fern’s arms are propped up on the rim of the tub now. “You need a Gay Bear to come into your life and just solve those problems.”
Bi-Guy’s face heats up. “Okayyyy, no. Actually, I’d rather date someone like me.”
Unsure what he means, I ask, “What? Like another twink?”
He looks offended. “I know, I’m a twig, but-”
“No, I saidTwink.”
Fern laughs, “Do you know what a twink is?”
“Isn’t it like the bottom... in... gay... sex?”
“Danny, you’re killing me.” Eudora sighs, getting up slowly. “I’m going in to make more hotdogs.”
DANNNNYYY! That’s what his f#cking name is! I’ve known this guy since I started the group this year but I literally could never remember his name! I’ll just keep it in my head by thinking of Danny Phantom.
Fern is just laughing at the way our group leader, who’s a blonde woman in her 50s, had to escape.
“Hey it’s not any different than me preferring fat guys.”
Shocked she said that so casually, I shift a little in the warm water. “I guess we’re all in the same boat… but also, for me, I feel it gets a little extra weird because I’d really rather just date a fellow Asian. Especially a South Asian.”
“I can imagine that.” Fern says with a nod, looking a little red from possibly a sunburn.
I continue, “But honestly, like, any non-White guy would be fine for me. I’ve dated a Hispanic guy before. I almost got with a Black guy once.”
Bi-Guy snorts. “Sorry, just the way you said that-”
“What about it? We got to the talking-part and it was going fine until I realized I was getting hard-core fetishized for being an Asian so I was like ‘nope, sorry, we don’t do that here’… oh, I dated a guy who had Native American ancestry.”
“I have Native American ancestry.” Fern points out.
“Yeah, he was a hockey player actually. Had the Flow and everything. But it was an on-impulse thing and lasted maybe three months?”
Danny asks, “What is a Flow?”
Fern laughs, “Even I know what that means.”
“It’s a hairstyle. And a lifestyle, apparently.” I won’t forget how when Mike accepted my winterfest proposal, all his buddies started cheering aggressively and jumping around the cafeteria and shaking around their hair.
“Yeah that’s like the most stereotypical hockey thing ever.” Fern snickers.
“But anyway, another thing I’d love is to date a fellow neurodivergent guy.”
“Honestly same.” Fern lowers into the hot tub. “The guy I have a crush on has ADHD.”
“I love that.” I grin. “But yeah, I guess what I’m saying is I wanna kinda meet my partner at the same level.”
“That makes sense, like you want to feel likeyou get it.” Fern sits up again.
I mutter, “My own parents don’tget itmost the time.”
“Oof. I heard that.”
Bi-Guy rejoins the conversation. “This might sound like, really weird, but I’d rather date someone my own race.”
“That’s literally what I just said about Asians”
“Yeah it’s not that weird”
I glance at Fern. “I mean not that dating outside your race is weird either, but at the same time- it just- like- makes sense.”
“HEY DANNY!” Eudora, standing over by the big cold pool on the other side of the yard, cups her hands around her mouth. “Octavia’s been trying to get your attention! She wants you to get in the pool”
Octavia is Eudora’s adopted daughter. She’s in her 30′s and has cerebral palsy, but she’s secure with a pair of neon pink arm floaties as she floats, hanging onto the side of the pool.
We can’t clearly hear what Octavia is yelling, but Eudora gasps, “Ooh! She called you a chicken!”
Danny stands up with a squack. “Okay I am not a chicken! I’m just really sensitive to the cold, okay?!”
Octavia starts yelling at the top of her lungs, her arms smacking the water to create a localized monsoon, and Eudora simply says, “Come on, Danny, just do it.”
“Okay fine!” The lanky twink clumsily stumbles out of the hot tub and runs across to the pool side, but then hesitates to get in the much cooler water.
Fern just leans further into the hottub, taking up the space he left behind. “Don’t die, buddy!”
Octavia starts yelling at Danny and calling him more names.
“Sheesh, she’s bullying me!” Danny groans, but he starts his climb in, and Octavia starts cheering.
Talon, Eudora’s middle child walks by with their friend. “Hey Mom, are there anymore hot dogs?”
“Talon!” Octavia turns around, now wanting her sibling to get in on the fun. “Talon!”
Talon’s in their early twenties and currently in a permanent, industrial-strength emo phase. For the last hour, Talon had been sitting in the far corner of the yard on a lawn chair, staring into the middle distance, chatting quietly with their friend, and acting entirely too cool for a backyard pool party.
“What?” Talon asks, a little agitated.
Octavia then splashes her hand into the pool water repeatedly, beckoning her sibling to come and join.
Talon hisses like a cat, even doing a claw pose. “I’m not getting in a swimming pool–”
*SPLASH!*
Octavia delivers a massive, direct hit that sends a wave of chlorine water soaking right through the front of Talon’s black graphic tee.
The tall young adult stands completely still for two seconds as the cold water drips down their shirt.
Then Talon’s eyes go wide with pure, competitive unhinged energy. They turn around, casually hand their used empty paper plate to their stunned college friend, and look back at the pool.
“That’s it,” Talon barks. “You’ve crossed a line, water demon!”
Without even stopping to take off their shoes, the big guy pulls themself up over the poor side and launches into the pool fully clothed, screaming a battle cry as they hit the water in a massive, chaotic cannonball.
The pool explodes into a full-scale splash war, with Danny, Octavia, and a soaking-wet emo violently throwing waves at each other while Eudora just stands on the grass, laughing and shaking her head.
It’s a beautiful sight to witness right as the sun finishes setting.
Fern laughs, sinking deeper into the bubbles, and I can’t help but grin so wide my cheeks ache.
I sigh and relax, lowering into the hot tub as well.
In a few months, I’ll be trying to figure out how to turn my obsession with psychology into a real career in counseling—learning how to build safe, happy spaces just like this one.
But tonight, leaning my head back against the rim of the hot tub, watching Eudora attempt to escape the chaos since she had only just gotten dry from swimming earlier, I realize my battery is completely recharged. These are the sort of moment that keep me going.
I think this is gonna be a good year for me.
