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His arms squeeze my middle. “Anyone else need to steer clear of you?”
“Don’t get me started on Paul. His delusions weren’t his fault, but he took you from me. He touched you when you said no. Part of me wants to get him alone and only one of us is walking away. That rage has nowhere to go, but acting on it would make it worse for everyone.” I shudder. My internet investigation found that people with delusions often don’t respond well to medication or therapy.
Sky cups my face and kisses my lips gently. “Crazy thought, you work in a sport known for violence.”
“I tried that when you were missing. Spent more time in the sin bin in that one game than in the rest of my NHL games combined. It felt great for two seconds, and then…emptiness.” I slide off the stool, guiding him to his feet and into the book nook.
“Bummer. I thought we could go break things and, bam, we’re better.”
“I will take you to one of those places, but in the long run, it’s not the answer.” We sink into the comfort of holding each other, but I’m compelled to make a confession.
“Your honesty and love have made me proud of who I am.” I kiss his hand to stop his protest. “Shame and fear kept me in the closet for too long, and when I told the team I’m bi, I didn’t feel worthy of their support.”
“Mav,” Sky cries in alarm.
“It was partly from my denial and partly embarrassment for receiving allyship I didn’t earn. It was as if I skated backward and tripped into a brotherhood where I didn’t belong because I was a total fraud,” I say, and Sky shakes his head in disagreement.
“That’s not how it works,” he insists.
“I lied about us and didn’t pursue other men out of fear,” I admit.
“Sexual activity doesn’t define your sexuality.” Sky rearranges himself in my lap. “There are religious sects that require a vow of celibacy. Those who devote themselves don’t become asexual. They place their calling above their sexuality. You were annoyed at your dad for not understanding you’re bi, right?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” My big, confused teddy bear is back.
“Being with me is a choice, but it doesn’t make you gay. Your partner choice doesn’t change your sexuality. Your acceptance into the queer community isn’t based on your sexual activity. You’ve deserved support since you understood you’re into guys.” Sky pokes my side.
“You’re the smart one.” I sink into the couch, with loose limbs and a quiet mind. He puts the acceptance of sexuality and the practice of sexuality in two different boxes.
I place my ear over his heart, and the steady rhythm is a tangible sign he’s physically fine. That we’re where we belong.
The trauma won’t be an easy fix, but we’ll face it together.
Sky falls asleep but wakes up when the delivery person rings the bell. I steer him toward the front door, where the smell of our takeout food is strong.
“You think of everything.”
“Nah, I’m selfish and hungry.” I swat his ass to get him moving faster.
Walking upstairs while kissing and taking clothes off is more complicated when I’m holding our food. I dart into his spare bedroom, aka his closet, and remove a beach towel from the top shelf to spread on our bed.
“Comfort food.” Sky claps as I unload the chicken, biscuits, and potatoes with gravy.
“I figured you were in the mood for it since you tried to cook meatloaf.” I hand him a container and sit across from him.
“How do you put up with me? I’m a mess,” Sky says with a teasing lilt, but dim eyes.
“You said you were sorry, but I should apologize too. It’s my fault for not creating a space for you to disclose your past. And not clarifying that my mother thinks you should cook, but I don’t give a shit. She’s still stuck in heteronormative roles for us. You know what would be hilarious?” I dig my fork into the mashed potatoes.
“We should show her our tax returns from last year. See if she hounds me to cook and clean.” I laugh at my joke, but Sky barely smiles. “I love you the way you are and don’t want to change a thing. Your past is a part of the man you’ve become. In my eyes, you’re perfect. I’d rather eat takeout in bed than see you stressed out cooking a meal. I’d rather help you fight the demons that keep you up at night than be in the dark. If anyone is a mess, it’s me.” I gesture around the room to my belongings spread out over the floor, even though I have enough room in my dresser.
“But you don’t lie to me. You don’t have a past that could freak you out at any moment.” Sky hangs his head.
“You didn’t lie. You weren’t ready to talk and give me all the details. Same as I wasn’t ready to come out of the closet in high school or college. I didn’t lie about wanting a future with you. I couldn’t fathom a way to have you and hockey.” I stretch my leg so my foot skims his shin. “Neither of us is blameless.”
“We eat later, right?” He throws a leg over my hip. “You could fuck me all the way better instead.”
I hesitate, not because I’m unsure, but because he might not agree with my timing. “What if we switched things up and you fuck me?” I stare into his rich brown eyes.
