by Drea Roman
I must have gone stiff in Roger’s arms because he suddenly withdraws them and turns me around to face him.
“What’s wrong, Tyler? I thought this was your favorite one?”
Smiling softly, I nod. “It is.”
He smiles, crinkling up the corners of his eyes, taking his face from attractive to absolutely magnificent, his hazel eyes shining brightly.
“Why is that again?”
I laughs and roll my eyes at him. “I’ve told you before. Ron, ever the annoying side-kick, really comes into himself in this one. Though he makes the wrong choice by leaving Harry and Hermione in the woods on the longest camping trip ever, it’s how he saves the poor witch in the Ministry of Magic that I think reveals his true character. Just because he stole her husband’s guise didn’t mean he had to help her escape. But he does. It’s his choice, not Harry’s or Hermione’s. She’s in danger and he selflessly steps up even though this could spell disaster for their mission. He’s the true hero for once, even if no one else seems to notice it.”
Roger’s smile widens and he leans forward and kisses me softly on the cheek. We sit there in a warm silence until a look of horror dawns on Roger’s face.
“Oh my God,” he stammers out, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Tyler.”
He pulls back from me, but I catch his wrist and hold it firmly, stopping him from pulling too far away from me.
Taking a deep breath, I plunge forward, hoping this comes out right. “Roger, I need to tell you something.”
Shaking his head, he interrupts me. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“No,” I strongly declare. “I believe it was more of a surprise to you than it was to me. As I already told you, it takes me forever to feel any sort of sexual attraction toward anyone.” I’m blushing now, but I refuse to drop his gaze. Roger wriggles his wrist until I let go, and he takes my hands in his and intertwines our fingers.
Taking another deep breath, I continue, “You are wonderful, and for the first time ever, I’m not as slow to warm to someone or realize that I like them.” The skin of my cheeks feels hot, and I know I’m blushing harder. “I like you, Roger. A lot.”
Roger sighs and brings my hand up to kiss the back of it.
“But you’re not quite ready yet, are you?”
Relief washes through me as I realize he understands. I nod. “Going fast with Eric backfired on me, and I feel like I’m back at square one, figuring out how to do all of this over again. And I desperately want to get this right, Roger.”
I pause and draw in another deep breath. “I usually have to try harder than this to feel something for someone. But there’s no try in any of this, Roger. I’ve thought about it a lot. Why did I choose to stay with you when I really should have gone to the hospital and followed David’s advice? The answer is that I immediately felt safe with you.” I feel tears gathering at the back of my eyes, and I blink, not wanting to cry.
“I felt safe,” I repeat. “From the moment I woke up sprawled awkwardly across your lap, I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I also knew you would take care of me. Don’t ask me how, but I was sure of it in a way I’ve never been sure of anything in my life. I’ve worried that perhaps I’m using you. But since you always seem to want to take care of me, for once in my life I’ve allowed someone to do that. It’s been really confusing for me to understand. Even now, I don’t even know how to articulate my feelings properly. But there is one thing I know for sure. I care about you, Roger.”
A sigh escapes him and Roger leans forward, touching his forehead to mine. “And I care about you, Tyler.” He laughs softly, “which should be pretty obvious by my inappropriate display there. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I am so relieved to hear that my feelings are reciprocated.”
With his eyes so close to mine, I can see the flecks of gold in the green and brown. “They most certainly are. I’m just unsure about how to handle them yet.”
Roger pulls back and smiles brightly. “It’s random and just a little bit weird, but it feels right to me. And I understand this is really bad timing. I would never rush you or make you think that I won’t still care for you if you need time or even if you decide you never want me back. And I do want you to be with you, Tyler. You’re beautiful inside and out. You make me feel useful and necessary.”
Roger sighs, taking my arm gently and pulling me into his side. “As you may have figured out, David and I were,” he pauses and seems to be searching for the right word to explain their friendship that is clearly more than that but not a relationship.
“More than friends?” I supply.
He nods. “Yes, that’s a good way to put it. More than friends, but never truly lovers. David doesn’t want what I need to give and won’t give what I need to have in return. It’s never been an issue as David is my friend first and foremost. I’ve always worried about him because he needs far more than he’s willing to even allow himself to desire.”
He chuckles. “Something has happened there though. He’s stingy with the details but from what I can gather someone is getting under his skin, and he’s fighting it tooth and nail.” “Anyway,” he shakes his head, “this aside is my weird way of explaining that you give me what I need, Tyler. Taking care of you, being here for you,” he sighs again and turns his head to snuggle it into my neck, “makes me feel whole for the first time in a long time.” His breath beading up goosebumps on my skin as he places his soft lips against my thrumming pulse before pulling back to look me in the eyes again. “And I would give anything for that, Tyler, anything you want.”
Blushing a beet red, I’m sure, I stammered to articulate something that’s very important to me. “Roger.” I say his name like it’s a talisman. “Roger, I’m not unhappy you kissed me. I’m very happy about it actually. I’m just trying to tell you why I can’t reciprocate right now.” I pause. “You’ve been giving me little touches of affection since the very beginning, and I need them. If you took them away from me right now, I don’t know what I would do.”
“They are soft little reassurances that I’m still alive and someone cares for me. I want to be strong enough to give them back to you. You saved me, but it has been so much more than the single act of picking me up from the ground and carrying me into your home.” I’m on the verge of crying now. This isn’t exactly how I expected movie not to turn out.
“Please.” I take a deep breath because I’ve never asked for something like this before. “Can you just hold me now? I need to feel your face in the crook of my neck, your arms around me, and your breath warm against my skin. I need it more than you could ever know.”
Roger holds out his hand, and I clasp it tight. He draws me into his chest. We sit quietly for a while until I’m ready to talk again. Pulling back, I look into Roger’s handsome face, his dark auburn beard so neatly trimmed, his kissable lips that I’m just not quite ready to kiss yet.
“It doesn’t bother you that I’m demi?”
Roger chuckles softly. “Honestly, Tyler, it wouldn’t matter to me if you were top, bottom, side, demi, gray, or trans. I would want to be with you no matter.”
“Ummm... What’s side mean?”
“No anal.”
“Like, ever?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Like never.”
“And you would be okay with that?”
“Completely fine. I dated a guy like that before. I don’t want to be with someone because I can penetrate them or be penetrated by them.”
I laugh. “You make it sound so clinical.”
“My point is, I want to be with you, Tyler, however you will have me. If that means we are strictly friends, I will count myself lucky to have such a wonderful friend in my life.”
“What about you?” I ask shyly, barely meeting his gaze.
“I’m vers, baby, vers all the way,” he replies and gives me a wicked smile.
Laughing, I quip, “Why am I not surprised?”
“And.” He g
lances around the living room as if to see if anyone else is listening, before continuing in a loud whisper, “I’m a cuddle monster.”
“Cuddle bear,” I counter, my eyes locked with his even though another deep blush flushes across my face.
Roger nods before agreeing in the same loud whisper, “Yes, I’m most definitely a cuddle bear.”
I pause consider Roger’s words. “So the guy you dated who was a side? Was it David?”
Roger laughs so hard that he nearly doubles over. “No,” he replies when he finally recovers, “David is strictly a top.”
“Is that why you didn’t work out? Sexual incapability?”
Roger howls again. When he can finally catch his breath, he wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes. “No, there was nothing to work out. David and I have only ever been friends who occasionally participated in benefits. How did you figure it out?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t one thing in particular but his concern for your well-being is clear. Seemed like more than friends.”
“But less than lovers,” Roger finishes. “That is literally the same thing I said to him about it once.” He pauses as if contemplating what to share. “But David has some shit to work out that he doesn’t want to discuss with anyone. Plus, he doesn’t like cuddling, and you know that’s a deal breaker for me.”
“Yes, you’re a self-proclaimed cuddle monster. I believe it. You’ve been cuddling me since I first stumbled into your life.” Roger blushes and for once has no come back.
“Does David resent me? It doesn’t seem like it.” Then I realize what I’ve asked, and I blush again.
Roger chuckles softly. “No, David’s only concern is that I’m okay.” He pauses and looks concerned. “Wait, you said I’ve been cuddling you from the start. I haven’t been inappropriate, have I?” His expression shifts to horrified.
And it is my turn to laugh, this time at him. The desire to kiss him slams into me, and I barely manage to swallow it down. I’m just not ready. Instead I grab him by the shoulders and hug him close. It’s probably the first time I initiated this level of physical contact with him, and he stiffens in my arms for a moment before so sweetly melting into me.
“No, Roger,” I whisper into his ear. “You’ve helped me put myself back together. With every touch and every kindness, you’ve encouraged me to heal. You never acted inappropriately a single moment since I’ve known you.”
We stay cuddled up together for a long time. When we finally do part to go to bed, the movie long forgotten, I have hope that soon I will be able to take that next step into more with Roger.
“What is your favorite candy?”
The text is from Roger, and I smile shyly though no one is here to see my reaction. My physical wounds have long since healed, and emotionally I am far more stable than I would have expected to be given the circumstances. My relationship with Roger continues to develop emotionally, but sometimes I lament the slow lane I seem to be stuck in as far as anything physical goes. Even though we both confirmed our mutual attraction during our most recent movie night, the topic hasn’t come up again, and I don’t know how to broach it without risking complete mortification.
Another buzz from my phone. “Sweet-tarts?”
“Mounds?”
“Pixie-sticks?”
“Butterfinger?”
My faces stretches wide due to the grin I cannot contain. Unbidden tears rise at the corners of my eyes. No one has ever asked me what candy I like. One more buzz.
“I know what you like. You like Skor. How many should I get you? Fifteen?”
Belly laughs erupt from me, and I double over on the couch. My happiness is bright and warm. It is a feeling I have come to associate with Roger. I finally contemplate the question and decide to expand the game.
“Cold, so cold.”
Roger responds immediately. “He’s awake!”
Then another message. “Hmmm. I must think on this. What do I know about you? You are short and sweet. You must like a candy you can suck on for hours. *Snaps fingers.* I got it. Jolly Rancher sticks in cherry.”
Snorting, my fingers flip across my smartphone screen. I send my flirty message before I allow myself to think better of it.
“A. I am not short. B. I do like to suck on things. C. You’re getting warmer. D. Think chewy.”
“I don’t know. Chewy sounds dangerous.”
“We’re talking candy for now. Not your body parts.”
His response is to that is swift. “*Gasp* Such naughtiness. But, just so you know, I definitely want you to treat me like a Jolly Rancher stick, not Twizzlers.”
I shoot back the next text without hesitation. “Warm. Warm. Almost hot!”
“Almost hot. Never been called that before. I’ve been called bearish though.”
Another ding. “*Taps chin.* It must be the special ones. You must like cherry Pull ’n’ Peel Twizzlers!!!”
I send back a gif of a half-naked dancing garden gnome with the message “You win!”
“Yay!” responds Roger. He immediately follows this up with a gif of Queen singing “We Are the Champions.”
Another text appears on my screen before I can reply. It is a purple devil face followed by a very leading question. “What do I get for winning?”
Finally, I feel the barriers break inside me, and I sigh with relief. We are finally on the same page. But I can’t tell him that via text.
“*Angel face* The pleasure of watching me eat them in front of you.”
Barely a second passes before my screen is graced with a gif of Paris Hilton wearing a trucker hat and saying “That’s hot.”
Collapsing back on the couch in a fit of laughter, I finally feel like I am going in the road I want to travel, a road that leads me to Roger.
A week later, a package arrives at Roger’s house with my name on it, clearly ordered by him for me. Opening it, I discover a Kelly-green t-shirt emblazoned with a large candy cane and the following phrase: “It’s not going to lick itself.” I put it on, and Roger nearly dies of laughter as soon as he sees it at dinner that night. I make no comment but grin the whole night through.
Chapter 8
“I’m ready to take the next step,” I declare with a stronger air of confidence than even I expect. The conversation Roger and I had during most recent movie night conversation two days ago and our ensuing flirtatious text messages have led me to some intense self-reflection about myself and what I want in life. I pull at the bottom of my shirt sleeves and watch my hands instead of looking Dr. Cox in the eye. When I have the courage to look up, I find her smiling at me.
“Do you mean in an intimate and romantic way?”
“Yes.” I sigh, but when I don’t continue, she prompts me.
“With whom?”
Though I shouldn’t be, I’m a little surprised she has to ask. “With Roger.”
She nods, and her smile deepens. “I just wanted you to say it aloud. How does that feel?”
I think about it for a minute. “Good, like a relief, as if I’ve been holding myself back. But now I can be honest about it. I’m not sure why.”
“Maybe because you are more comfortable with yourself now than you were when you first came to see me?”
Nodding, I reply, “That, and I have started to forgive myself for Eric.”
Her smile turns beatific. “I am so happy to hear you say that without any prompting.”
Blowing out a breath, I lean back in her dark brown leather couch and rest my head against the puffy top. “Me, too.”
“Do you really believe it?”
I contemplate for a moment, then sit back up. “Yes.” I am surprised at how easy the answer is. I do believe it.
Just as she has so many times before, Dr. Cox speaks directly to the concerns I have not voiced. “You don’t need any reassurance from me, Tyler. You’re the only one who can decide when you’re ready to take that next step. If you feel you’re ready, then you should trust your instincts. They have been right so
far about your friendship with Roger and his trustworthiness. He has been your friend for several months now, some of the most difficult months of your life. He’s taken care of you and provided the emotional support you needed. If you feel you want to explore the romantic, intimate, and physical aspects of your relationship, then I would advise you be clear with Roger about what you do and do not want at this stage. As you have mentioned, the two of you have had some of those conversations already.”
She pauses a moment before continuing. “What you need to discuss with Roger now are the more specific details. You suffered an incredibly traumatic experience, physically and emotionally. It might affect any sort of sexual situation you find yourself in. I know you trust Roger. He has gained your trust step-by-step, moment by moment. Now you’re going to have to rely on trust you’ve developed together and believe he can handle any way you may react. I’m not saying you won’t be able to take your relationship in a physical direction. I just advise that you go slowly, and you talk with Roger at every step of the way.”
Nodding, I feel relieved at having my decision out in the open. I hadn’t needed my therapist’s approval. Yet, her sensitive way of dealing with the topic, has reassured me that I am making the right choice.
It’s not like you haven’t bought condoms before, Tyler. I internally chide myself, softly, softly. Roger keeps reminding me to be gentle with myself. A shy smile plays on my lips. Roger, I sigh as I think his name. How is it possible for one man to be so sweet and caring? So loving and giving with no expectation of return? I shake my head, my smile widening. It’s time. I need to make a move. I guess I stereotyped “Roger Not the Rabbit” Montgomery when we first met. Considering our decade age difference, his tall, wide build, and auburn hair, facial and otherwise, I immediately typed him as a “bear.” But he’s turned out to be a cuddly teddy bear, not a growly dominance bear.