Learning-to-Feel (20 page)

Trent burrowed himself against me, his arms wrapped around me, holding me too tightly. Sleep came quickly, I was so warm and content as he kissed my hair and my face.

I knew I must be dreaming when the words, "I love you," were whispered in my ear.

Chapter 20

I needed to pee. I really needed to pee. But I’d woken up from the best sleep ever, warm and completely encased in Trent. He slept soundly, his arms were around me and his face was just an inch from mine.

He was half laying on me, his thigh hitched on my waist, pressing my bladder, hence the need to pee. But I didn’t want to move. Ever.

Unless I wanted to wet the bed, I didn’t have much choice. So I rolled onto my side so his leg was now resting on my hip instead of my bladder. He stirred and mumbled, but his hand held onto me, and he nuzzled himself into my side
.
I brushed the hair from his face and kissed his forehead, and he sighed.

I moved his leg and pulled away from him, but he protested in his sleep. "Mm mm."

"I need to pee," I told him, finally peeling myself out from his grasp. I quickly put on some boxer briefs and headed to the bathroom. I was a little sore, but it only reminded me
why
my ass was sore, and it made me smile.

While I was up, I decided to check on Bentley. He woke to the sound of my approaching him, and I gave him a quick pat, mindful of where he was cut and sore. He stood up, shook himself a little, but he wasn’t his usual bouncy self.

"Need to pee too, Little Buddy?" I asked him.

I coaxed him out the door, and he limped on three legs, favoring his bandaged right leg. I knew dogs were tough little critters and had a high pain tolerance, but it was still hard to see him struggle.

After he relieved himself, I picked him up and brought him back to his bed by the now-just-embers fire. I threw some kindling and smaller logs into the fireplace and wished it well. I didn’t stick around to see if it lit, there was only one place I wanted to be.

I slid back into bed, and Trent shivered and shuddered when I slipped in behind him and pressed my cold body against his warm one. He groaned, "…cold."

"You're warm," I whispered back.

He turned so he was facing me and wrapped himself around me. He rubbed my back, his thigh hooked over mine and he warmed my body with his own. His face was so close, the tip of his nose was touching mine, and his eyes were sleepy, but open.

He moved his hand, laid it gently on my face and lightly traced his thumb along my jaw. His eyes showed me his insecurity, his vulnerability, like he was waiting for me to tell him goodbye.

I don’t know much about relationships, or couple dynamics, but I could safely presume his insecurities and abandonment issues weren't something that would magically disappear overnight. It would take time and reassurance. So I kissed him lightly to let him know I had no regrets.

"I’m not dreaming, am I?" he asked. "I’m here, in your bed, with you, aren't I?"

I smiled and nodded. "Sure are."

He gave me a small smile and closed his eyes.

I took his hand that was pressed against my cheek and kissed the palm and held his hand in mine. "Right where I want you to be."

He looked at me then and quietly, he said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything," he answered simply. "For everything."

"Thank you, Trent," I echoed his words. He looked at me with wide eyes, and I smiled at him. Pulled him closer so my face was against his hair, I just held him. I kissed the side of his head and whispered, "Thank you."

We lay like that, wrapped around each other for a long while. It wasn’t sexual, not this time.

After snuggling down into me, Trent's face was against my chest. He sniffed me, twice. "Why do you smell like a wet dog?"

I laughed. "I took Bentley out for a pee and carried him back inside."

He pulled away with a start, alarmed. "Is he okay?"

"He’s just fine," I reassured him and pulled him back against me. "I put him back on his bed."

I felt him chuckling against me. "You're gonna spoil my dog."

I laughed again and squeezed him in my arms. "He doesn't mind."

Still laying half over me, Trent leant up on one elbow and looked at me. For a moment, he said nothing. He just looked at me. He cleared his throat, then speaking softly he asked, "How do you feel this morning? Are you sore?"

I smiled again at him and shook my head. "Not really," I answered him honestly. "I’ve never felt this good."

He gave me a cross between a disbelieving eyebrow and a smug smirk.

"Come on," I said, throwing back the covers. "I need to get Bentley some toast before he tries to come up the stairs to get me."

I pulled on a shirt, Trent put on the clothes he was wearing last night, and we head downstairs. Before Bentley could get up, Trent was quick to sit beside him. Bentley was happy to see him, and Trent told him, "Nathan will get you some toast now, okay?"

I smiled at this, but he didn't see. He was already fixing my poor attempt to start the fire, so I headed to the kitchen to fix breakfast.

When I brought a tray of toast and coffee into the living room, Trent had resurrected the fire and was looking over his dog. He looked up at me, and there was sadness in his eyes.

"I really fucked things up yesterday, didn't I?" he said. "If I didn't leave, Bentley wouldn't be hurt and neither would you."

I placed the tray down on the floor, sat next to him and handed him his coffee. "No you didn't, Trent. And there’s no point in beating yourself up over something you can’t change." I tore the toast into pieces and gave the dog a piece at a time. "Bentley and I will be just fine."

Trent looked at the coffee in his hand, and I knew he was about to finally explain.

"There was a guy in Texas," he said softly. "His name was Santiago. I was young, still at college. I thought it was the real deal, ya know? I thought it was love…but I know now it wasn't." He looked at me then before he continued talking. "We'd been together for a while. My aunt and uncle told me I could leave if I was
that way inclined
, so I stayed at Santiago's."

He was looking far away, into his memories. "I asked him to come to my graduation, but he said he was busy… God, I was so stupid…" he stopped talking to take a sip of his coffee, and I saw his hands were trembling.

As much as this was hard for me to hear, it was harder for him to talk about. But he needed to say this. He needed to get it out. I sipped my coffee and looked at him, expectantly.

"When I got home, he had...
company
. I asked him what the hell he was doing. I was so young and naïve… I told him it was okay because I loved him…and he laughed at me."

"Oh Trent, baby." No wonder he was so scared. My heart broke for him.

"I hit the road the next day," he said, "and basically just went wherever I wanted. I had told myself I'd never be that guy again. I spent years convincing myself I didn't need anyone. I spent about a year in New York and hooked up with this guy... I kept it casual, of course. He was a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but he wanted something from me that I couldn't give…"

Love. He couldn't give love.

I rubbed his foot with mine, so he knew I was still on his side.

"Then I came across this little fella." He nodded to Bentley, who was dozing by the fire. "I rescued him because some lady didn't have time for him. She was gonna have him put down. Can you believe that?" he asked, shaking his head in disgust. "King Bentley was the first living thing I'd loved in about eight years."

Oh, fuck. My poor, sweet Trent.

"After a while, I hit the road again, and we came here." He looked at me then, with honesty and pleading in his eyes. "Nathan, I’m not leaving again. I promise. The first time I saw you, when I came down those stairs, and you were patting Bentley, I knew."

He put his coffee down and scooted over to me, putting his hand on my leg. "Nathan, I just knew. I tried to keep it casual, thinking it'd just be physical and then I'd be going again, but I couldn't get you out of my head. Every time I saw you, my heart would take off and my palms would sweat
.
I knew it was different."

I squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Then he said, "And that first time I slept in your bed…it was like my body knew what it needed. It was the best sleep I'd ever had."

"Me too," I told him.

"When you took me to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, Nathan," he said, shaking his head, "God, it meant the world to me. And taking you to that nightclub, seeing you so free, seeing all the guys who wanted you… made me only want you more."

Then he looked to my neck. "I bought you the necklace," he took a breath and spoke softer. "I wanted there to be some part of me on you," he said almost apologetically. "I know that sounds all kinds of fucked up."

"No it doesn't," I reassured him. Touching the leather cord around my neck made me smile. "I wear it because you gave it to me."

"I tried to fight what I felt for you. I was so stupid." He nodded, and then his face twisted. "You give me peace, Nathan."

"Peace?" I asked him quietly.

He nodded. "It’s a peacefulness I feel when I’m with you. A calmness…I can’t really describe it. I’m not very good with words…" he trailed off, and I was reminded of his paintings.

He expressed himself through his art.

"You express emotions through your art, don’t you?" I asked him. "Like the painting you gave me?"

He looked to the ground, but he nodded. "I wanted you to have it," he shrugged, "the painting. You already had my heart. I’d left it with you."

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead and whispered against his skin, "Thank you." I leaned back and told him, "It’s beautiful. Now that I know what it represents."

He looked away again. "I wanted to tell you. So many times. I wanted to tell you…that I’ve never felt like this," he swallowed loudly. Then he finished quietly, "I’ve never…wanted someone to love me like I want you…to love me."

He was so unsure, still. "Nathan, yesterday was
horrible
and
wonderful
. All I did was cry," he said with an embarrassed laugh.

I nodded and touched his face. As much as I wanted to kiss him right now, I didn’t. If he didn't speak now, I don’t know if he ever would.

"It was horrible because I knew I had to leave you, but I couldn't. It was horrible because Bentley got hurt and when he fell out of the truck, I thought I’d killed him. I was so scared. Then you fixed him, and it was wonderful…you were wonderful. And then last night…Nathan, last night was the best night of my life."

"Mine too, Trent."

He looked at me and gave me a half smile. "I’m sorry I didn't make you come. I was so lost in what I was feeling. Finally being able to give that part of me to you."

"Trent, to be honest, it didn't even occur to me that I didn't come," I told him honestly. "I was so overwhelmed with what I was feeling…it was perfect. It was so perfect."

This time I did kiss him. Sweet and soft I kissed him, with my hand on the side of his face. When I leant back, a shooting pain in my ass fired through me, and I flinched.

"Are you okay?" Trent asked, alarmed.

I chuckled. "I’m fine, but I don’t think sitting on a hardwood floor for any length of time is a great idea for me."

Trent jumped to his feet and pulled me up. "I’m sorry, baby," he said, "I should have thought of that."

I brushed his concerns off. "Really, I’m fine," I told him, because I was. I slid my arms around his waist and kissed his neck. "I’m more than fine, Trent. Thank you for telling me. Thank you for letting me in."

He kissed me and put his forehead on my chin so he was looking down at our feet. "I don’t know what I’m doing. And more than likely I'll fuck something up," he looked up at me then. "But I’m in this, whatever the fuck it is. With everything that I am."

I grinned and kissed him. "I don’t know what I’m doing either, to be honest. We're both new to this, whatever the fuck it is, but just so you know, I’m in this too. With everything that I am."

He laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"First things first," I grinned at him. "We should get changed before my family gets here."

His eyes widened, almost comically. "Oh shit, I forgot."

Smiling, I pecked his lips. "They already like you."

"I have to grab my bags from the truck," he said quietly. My eyes darted to his, and he was quick to explain, "I only brought my paintings in last night," he said, pointing his chin toward the canvases stacked against the wall. Then he said, "I left my bags because I didn't know if you'd want me to stay."

"Then I will help you bring them in," I told him, and he smiled. When we'd collected his luggage, we took it back upstairs. He paused at the door to my room, unsure of which room to put his stuff in.

"Your family will need my room," he said, matter-of-factly, as he walked inside. "So, I'd better put my stuff in here for now."

I walked into my room, dropped his bags in the closet and pulled him into my arms. It was like it was official, for real now, with his stuff in my room…
our
room. "You'd
better
put it in here," I said against his lips. "You can leave it in here, too."

* * * *

I sat on the bed and watched him unpack. He threw his shirts in with mine, and his jeans and pants got tossed in too. In the top drawer, he pushed all my neatly folded underwear to one side and dumped his pile of underwear in the now vacant side. His shoes got tossed to the floor in the closet, and when he was done, he smiled.

He had no personal mementos or photos, not that I saw. He really had been so alone for far too long.

That changed today.

I pulled him onto the bed with me, my lips fused to his, my tongue in his mouth. I broke my mouth from his, only to pull my shirt over my head.

When I started to remove my boxers, Trent stopped me. "Nathan," he said, pulling away from me. "You're far too sore for me to-"

"To what?" I cut him off. "For you to suck me?"