“No one—else? Not in all the years since…?” I had to stop speaking, my voice choking as I thought of how horrifyingly lonely that must have been.
“No. So, I guess the answer to your earlier question is, yes and no. Yes, I’ve had sex. No, I’ve never had a lover.”
We sat in the darkness for a few minutes, the weight of Mason’s words sinking in.
“Well, then I’m happy and sad for you.” I said softly, quoting one of my favorite Val Kilmer movies. I sobered though, thinking I might come across as too flippant. “Seriously, though, if we get to that point…if,not when… it will be your decision, Mason. And I would be… honored… to be your first lover.”
Even as I spoke, doubts plagued me. How would he feel if he found out I was the one who had rescued him that night? Or rather, when. There was no way I could or would keep that from him forever. Wasn’t this the perfect opening? I could tell him what happened and why… but what would happen when he had another panic attack? I had no illusions that it was only a matter of time before he had another one. I’d seen what Bishop and Kaine had gone through growing up. This would not be a fast process. And how in the world would we navigate the whole sex thing?
As confused as I was about how to proceed, at the same time, I was completely awestruck by his strength. The things he had survived would have killed a lesser person. Instead, Mason was more than surviving, he was thriving. As my emotions whirled, my mind latched on to something he’d mentioned.
“You mentioned the agoraphobia before,” I began. “Sounds like you’ve had counseling?”
He chuckled.
“Yep. I’m on the frequent flyer plan. Two more visits and I get a toaster oven.” We both laughed as he quoted “Real Genius” back at me, the joke lightening the mood, as I was sure he intended.
“Seriously, though, I only just recently found a great therapist. She specializes in dealing with all kinds of trauma. Physical, emotional, all of it.”
“How’s it going?” I inquired, suddenly serious.
Mason grimaced and sighed.
“Honestly? I hate it. I hate feeling so damn…broken, all the time,” he said, his hand tightening on mine. “But I also realize, it’s helping. If I’m careful about avoiding my triggers, or acting quickly enough before things become too overwhelming, I can go weeks without a panic attack.”
“But then… someone says something. A random word. A strange smell… I see someone who reminds me of my past… or I get too crowded in an elevator,” he paused. “And I wake up in the hospital. Or police station. Or, once, the women’s restroom.” Oddly, he laughed as he said that last.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. “Women’s restrooms are scary places, full of mysterious vending machines that instill fear in the hearts of men everywhere.” I waggled my eyebrows at him dramatically.
“That’s how I met Lizzie,” Mason explained. “She’s my best friendandmy agent. She hasneverlet me feel sorry for myself and has always been ready with a swift kick in the ass, when needed.”
“I definitely have to meet this woman,” I said, my hand slidingfrom his shoulder to his neck, then resting in his hair. He hummed in appreciation as I began stroking my fingers through his silky mane. “Lizzie sounds amazing,” I said.
I was doing my damnedest, but with Mason literally laying his head in my lap, I was having a really hard time keeping the semi in my pants from going hard-core steel rod.
“She is,” he agreed, dragging my head back into the conversation. “She has a mobility disability and uses a wheelchair. Don’t you dare call her disabled, though,” he chuckled. “She has never, and I meanever, let it stop her from doing something she wanted or needed to do.”
I’d had my share of access challenges after I’d come home from the military. I knew how frustrating it was for me, and that was when I was just using crutches or a cane, and knew my own mobility issues could resolve in time. “Remind me not to piss her off.”
“Will do,” he nodded. “I spend a lot of time trying to avoid pissing her off,” he grinned, then grabbed a pillow from the couch and hugged it to his chest.
“So… that’s me,” he concluded. “Warts, psychoses, and all.”
“Hmmm… I think I like your warts,” I teased, digging my fingers into his hair, gently massaging his scalp. “As far as psychoses go… I get it.” I said, simply. “I’ve got my own shit I’ve dealt with – amstilldealing with. Some of the stuff I saw, or that happened to me overseas… I guess, I really just understand what you mean about wanting to not be considered sick anymore,” I said, then it was my turn to sigh.
Mason slid down on the couch until his head was lying in my lap. He looked up at me, the firelight glinting in his eyes.
“Tell me,” he said simply.
It took me a few minutes but once I started talking, the words tumbled out of me.
“I’ve known I was gay pretty much my whole life,” I began. “So, I really didn’t have any major trauma in that regard, unless you count the trauma of walking in on my parents having sex when I was five.” Mason giggled at that.
“Poor kid.”
I grinned at him.
“I know, right? I knew who I was, and what I wanted, but I had to make the decision not to live openly, at first. I’d always wanted to be in the military. ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ was still in effect. It didn’t really bother me, at first, keeping that part of my life hidden. I was focused on my career and had already made peace with the fact that I’d need to stay in the closet for now. Then… Then I met Mack,” I smiled at the thought of my partner.
