He’d dated only two people before Sir, and no one since.
Do you want to date again? Marco asked.
I thought I never would. Greg sighed. I really thought I’d never be interested in anyone again. For a long time, I couldn’t even think about sex or relationships or anything like that without feeling miserable.
Marco waited, not commenting.
But last week… Greg wasn’t sure if he could say it. He was glad that he couldn’t see Marco’s face and Marco couldn’t see his. I watched porn again.
How did you feel about it? It felt like such an armchair psychologist question, but Greg was just glad that there wasn’t any judgment.
Good? Terrible? I don’t know. I got off. He laughed mirthlessly.
It’s OK to feel confused.
I’ve been telling myself that. I didn’t want to think about anyone else ever again, but now…
I mean, I still miss him, but I hate being alone, too. I don’t think he would want me to be alone. I know that I’m too old to be anyone’s sub, he continued, but I’m not sure that I can do this by myself.
Marco pressed his cheek into Greg’s, comforting him. You’re not too old to be someone’s sub, he signed emphatically.
Greg gestured down at himself. Do you see me? I’m old. I’m fat. I’m going bald. I’m going to be fifty this year. I’ve been in a relationship with one person my whole life and I don’t even know how to be with someone else, even if someone would want me.
Marco shook his head, pressing gently into Greg as he did. You’re not old or fat. You’re handsome. Strong. Distinguished.
That’s not true. And even if it was, that’s not what anyone wants in a sub. That’s how Doms are supposed to look.
He realized what he’d said a moment too late.
Sorry, sorry. I just meant…
Marco’s chest shook and Greg thought he was angry, but he turned out to be laughing. It’s OK. I’m happy with how I look and who I am. People see me and think that I’m a sub, but anyone who’s put off by that isn’t someone I want to be with.
I don’t see how anyone could mistake you for a sub, Greg replied honestly.
Marco nuzzled against his cheek in response, the rough bristles of his beard oddly soothing. God, that felt good. This was the kind of gentle intimacy that he hadn’t realized he’d been starving for.
I know that I shouldn’t judge other people based on their bodies. But… it’s different, I think, when you’re old. And unattractive. He wasn’t fishing for compliments. Just being honest.
Marco gripped his chin and turned his face so that they looked directly at each other.
Greg melted a little bit at the show of dominance. He felt too exposed, but in such a good way—like Marco would correct him and take care of him.
“You are beautiful,” Marco voiced, vowels slightly flat but with intensity. “Submitting is about who you are inside, and you are a beautiful submissive.”
The shock of hearing Marco’s voice rang through him. He assumed that Marco hated to speak as much as most Deaf people did, so the fact that he was doing it now only emphasized his point further.
He wanted Greg to believe him.
Marco continued staring into Greg’s eyes, as if he could convince him of this truth by sheer determination. “I’m not trying to hit on you, unless it’s something that you want, but I can honestly say that I’d be honored to have someone like you as my boy.”
Greg drew in a deep breath, Marco’s eyes peering into him. OK, he finally signed. He didn’t believe it himself, but he believed that Marco believed it.
And that little flutter in his chest was growing stronger than ever.
Marco gave him one more searching look, and then let go of his chin.
They sat quietly for a while. Greg couldn’t think of anything to say, but Marco let him know that it was alright by folding their hands together. Marco was taking control and telling him that it was time to rest and soak in this unexpected comfort instead of speaking.
It might be the best that he’d felt in three years.
Chapter 3 Marco
Marco traced his fingers over Greg’s, enjoying the feel of the sweet sub in his arms.
He’d come here expecting to feel angry and disconnected, and instead had one of the most intense and intimate experiences in his life.
Yes, Greg was thirteen years his senior, but they were both adults and that amount of time was nothing. Especially given that Greg’s husband had been nineteen years older than he was.
He’d meant everything that he said. Greg was gorgeous. Exactly his type.
He was also honest and kind and beautiful. Intelligent and sweet and entrancing. The adjectives kept bubbling up in his head as he considered how to communicate to Greg just how perfect he was.
Marco found himself getting sucked in.
The way that Greg had trusted Marco, and the way that he’d artlessly given in to Marco’s small acts of dominance, spoke volumes. He needed the stability and affection of a Dom in his life, and Marco found himself hoping that he could fill that role.
But only if Greg was ready. Twenty years, well, that was a lot. It was no wonder he had such sad eyes.
Eyes that Marco felt like he could get lost in.
Finally, Marco signed gently with one hand, have you thought about playing again?
He wasn’t trying to make a specific offer, just opening up the conversation. The last thing that he wanted was to push. He felt like Marco would be someone worth waiting for.
Greg disentangled his hands. I didn’t for a long time. But the past few months, I’ve been missing that, too. I’ve been thinking about sex again. And like I said, I was watching porn. But I think what I really miss is the feeling of release afterward. I miss aftercare. He paused, hands still raised. That probably sounds stupid.
No, not stupid. That’s what makes kink beautiful.
Greg sighed, and Marco decided to put himself out there a little. I’m a Daddy, he offered. Which means I like taking care of people.
Marco could see Greg processing this.
Greg turned enough to face him and signed FATHER as a question, apparently unsure how to give the word the context it needed to express his meaning.
Daddy, Marco signed back, repeating the basic sign for FATHER, but adding a bit of a smirk and mouthing “daddy” at the same time. Now it was dirty and sweet, completely different from being someone’s parent.
Daddy, Greg tested out the sign.
Marco nodded encouragingly. What he wouldn’t give to have Greg say that and mean it.
Greg thought for a moment. I think I’ve seen a lot of people use that word and it doesn’t always mean the same thing.
Was Greg making conversation or expressing interest? Either way, Marco was comfortable sharing.
I like taking care of someone. Being there for my boy to rely on and meeting all his needs. I’m not interested in someone who wants to be a child, he gave the word special emphasis to mean “little.”
So, what does that actually look like in practice? Greg’s hands flew up to cover his face as soon as he asked. When he came out from behind his hands, he quickly amended, you don’t have to answer that.
Marco cracked up. Greg was adorable. There was something that just got him going about seeing this older man being so spontaneous and free in sharing his thoughts and feelings.
I don’t mind answering. When there’s someone I like, I guess I want to know everything about them. What they enjoy, what helps them relax. Then, I try to give it to them. When I’m in a scene it might not look too different from a typical scene. It’s more about care taking when I’m in a relationship with someone.
So you… You’ve been in a relationship like that before?
Marco sighed. He wasn’t as thrilled about rehashing his dating history. But he also wanted to be honest, and he’d left himself open for this one.
I was in two vanilla relationships where I smothered my partners to the point of
frustration before I figured out what I wanted and knew how to communicate it. After that, I played with a lot of people while I was figuring myself out. Then I started dating someone who said he wanted a Daddy, but then realized he didn’t. At least we were able to figure it out sooner that time.
So, you haven’t had a boy, then?
Marco’s heart pounded. Was Greg considering the role? Even for an evening?
No. It’s just a dream of mine right now.
Yeah, try saying that with a lap full of delicious, earnest submissive and not making it sound like a come-on.
That’s sad. I hope you find your boy.
I will, Marco replied, trying to keep the conversation upbeat. Inside he was asking, “can it be you?”
They both settled down for a while after that, breathing together. It was remarkably peaceful.
Holding someone like this, being his foundation and his comfort, was a huge part of what Marco was looking for.
Finally, he drew in a breath, hoping that he wasn’t about to fuck things up. I know that you’re not looking for a relationship. But if you wanted to play some time, I would be honored to play with you.
Greg stilled. Damn, he wished he could see his face better.
Or, forget I said anything. I was just thinking that, maybe later, when you’re ready. I just… you said that no one would want you, and I wanted you to know that it isn’t true.
Alright, that mostly made sense and he didn’t sound like too much of an asshole.
Greg turned around in his lap, finally facing him. You would want that? Really? He looked incredulous, as if the idea were impossible.
Marco decided to put himself on the line. I find you very attractive. I’m not saying that to pick you up, or at least not to pressure you to do anything before you’re ready. I just wanted you to know.
Greg was fighting not to smile, and it was adorable. He’d clearly had been thinking pretty poorly of himself, and now he shone under the praise.
Really? he asked again.
Really, Marco confirmed.
You know that I’m still all messed up about R, he gave a name sign that Marco wasn’t familiar with, but presumably it indicated his husband. And I’m old and…
Marco gently grabbed his hands, preventing him from finishing his sentence. “Shhhhhh…” he voiced. “You’re allowed to think about him. And you are beautiful. I won’t let you say otherwise.”
He didn’t like using his voice, but he didn’t hate it as much as some people. He’d had to speak all the time at his old job, so he was pretty used to it. He’d also found that with hearing friends, sometimes voicing could get someone’s attention or cut through an argument. So, he used it when he needed to.
He voiced now because he knew that it would make Greg realize how serious he was.
Greg’s hands twitched, but he didn’t try to break free of Marco’s hold. He didn’t voice or mouth his response either. Marco appreciated both of those choices.
He watched Greg’s face as he processed everything. It was subtle, but he could see him going through a range of difficult emotions. Marco knew he must be fighting within himself. His hands twitched again.
This time, Marco released his hands to let him reply.
If you really want that… He drew in a deep breath, held it, and let it out. I’d like to try.
Marco tried to still his racing heart and keep his elation off his face.
Whenever you’re ready. He felt even more protective of Greg now, which in turn made him feel more turned on. No hurry.
Greg was trusting him with this fragile, new exploration and that made his Daddy side swell up with pride.
He wanted to crush Greg’s lips under his, and wrap him in bubble wrap, forever safe. It was crazy how strongly he felt for the man after knowing him for only a few short hours.
Greg closed his eyes, thinking, and then opened them. His eyes were pure and honest. Part of me thinks I won’t ever be ready. But the rest of me is ready now.
Marco’s pulse was racing, and he let a little bit of the desire he felt seep into his face. He’d made an offer half expecting to be rejected, and certainly expecting to be put off.
Now, tonight?
Greg blushed and looked away. Marco hooked two fingers under his chin. Now? he signed again, knowing that Greg would see it in his peripheral vision.
Greg nodded slowly.
Wow. Marco was blown away. He’d had dozens of hook-ups, maybe hundreds. But this… this was something special. Greg was giving him a huge amount of trust, and he knew the sub hadn’t made the decision lightly.
He felt honored.
Taking his time to savor the moment, Marco lowered his lips to meet Greg’s. He brushed gently across them, feeling the sensation ripple through his body. The feeling between them was electric. He couldn’t imagine how it would explode as they explored everything that Marco wanted to do with him.
Greg gazed at him dreamily, still absorbing the soft kiss.
Then doubt spread across his face. Are you sure?
Marco searched his face. Greg had seemed to know what he wanted a moment ago, even though he was conflicted. What had changed?
Greg’s eyes darted down Marco’s body to where they were still pressed together, and then returned to his.
Oh. Dammit. He’d been so caught up in Greg that he’d totally forgotten that he had some critical information of his own to disclose. Like why Greg wasn’t feeling a hard bulge where he expected one.
He really should have discussed this before asking if Greg was interested in pursuing anything further. Damn, damn, damn.
I need to tell you something, he opened.
Greg looked nervous. Because he was an asshole and starting conversations that way was always an excellent idea.
There was nothing to do but get it out of the way. I’m transgender, he admitted, making the sign like a flower opening and closing on his chest.
Greg looked at him in confusion. Right. Of course. He’d been teaching Greg a lot of signs for kinky terms tonight and it made sense that he wouldn’t know that one, either. It made sense if he’d mostly signed as a child and with his family.
I’m trans, he fingerspelled.
Greg blinked, his face emotionless. Fuck. Was he disgusted? Confused? Plotting a way to get out of what he’d just offered?
Marco was used to disclosing his trans status with new partners, but he usually did it up front, before deep personal conversations and offering to be someone’s first new partner after twenty years with a husband they were still mourning.
There were always a few pricks who responded with revulsion and didn’t deserve to walk the earth. But most people asked a clarifying question or two, sometimes a bit awkwardly, and then they could go on with their date or scene.
He was over his teenaged angst about his gender—it was more a fact like his Deafness or his Mexican heritage—but other people still needed to come to terms with it.
He was a transgender man who wasn’t afraid of being a bit feminine. And since he already had a twinky frame and the perpetually youthful face that hinted at his history, he just embraced it.
He didn’t think that Greg would be an asshole about his gender. But he still might not be interested.
You... Greg pointed, want to be a woman? No, you are...
Ah. He hadn’t considered that option. He’d only been experimenting with makeup for the past year or so. I’m a man, he explained, but I was born… differently. My body is a little different.
Greg still hadn’t responded, so he went on to explain himself a bit more. When everyone thought I was a woman, I hated makeup. I was already in the wrong body, and feminine things just magnified the feeling. But now that I’m a man, and I feel confident in my masculinity, I like playing with gender a bit, too.
I see, Greg signed slowly, the wheels visibly turning in his head.
Well, what the fuck did that mean?
Greg looked down and away. Marco waited with bated breath,
their bodies still so close together, like lovers, even as the distance grew between them.
Is this OK? Greg finally asked.
That still didn’t make any sense. In ASL, pronouns like this were just a point in the direction of something that had already been referred to. But Greg hadn’t referred to anything before.
Marco suspected that the question wouldn’t have made any more sense in Spanish or English.
Is what OK?
Sorry, that was stupid. I just meant, are you still interested in me?
Still not making sense, but at least getting somewhere. God, Marco hated when these conversations got awkward. Nothing has changed about me from five minutes ago, just what you know about me.
Right. Greg’s hands stalled, mid-sign. Um, you’re a man, though? It was half a statement, half a question.
Marco felt himself bristling. He usually psyched himself up for these conversations and this one had blindsided him. Especially since he knew that Greg was still emotionally raw.
He felt like he had to protect both of their feelings, and it wasn’t a comfortable place to be when he was feeling vulnerable himself.
Men can be pretty, he finally signed. It was his usual response to jerks who wanted to take something up with him.
Greg still looked uncertain. Was this whole thing going to fall apart just because of some stupid flap of skin that might or might not be between his legs? He usually never got this worked up, but the idea of Greg turning on him now had triggered something in him.
Greg hesitantly launched his next question. Is it OK that I don’t know what to do?
The sub’s timid body language said that he’d probably been letting his aggression show, and that was probably making the situation worse. No one wanted to feel like a fool or disappoint someone by not using the right language or asking the right questions.
Marco felt his agitation ebb. From what Greg was asking, it seemed like the problem was lack of knowledge, not lack of interest. He should have trusted him more.
What do you think you should know how to do? he finally asked.
Your body. I don’t know how to… Greg seemed to be at a loss for a sign. Sexual language in ASL was graphic, and Marco had a sense that he was trying to find a term that wasn’t as explicit so that he didn’t refer to the wrong body parts. Make you happy, he finally finished.
Love Language Page 3