Page 66 of Love Language

They ended their meal with a lemon sorbet served in half of an intact lemon peel. Greg beamed at him. It just made Marco think of how much more he’d like to give to him.

But when they got back to Greg’s house, Greg seemed slightly off. A bit nervous. He was clingy with Marco, but not in a way that made sense.

Or, probably, in a way that did make sense. He was doubtless thinking of Richard again.

He seemed to be tired, too, like he hadn’t slept well the night before. Marco just wanted to wrap him up and cuddle him in bed. Would that be OK?

For the first few months of their relationship, such as it was, they’d been completely platonic. Once that had changed, they played or hooked up nearly every time they saw each other. Only more recently had they started hanging out without expectations of scenes or sex, but that was usually for a reason, like attending an event that went late into the night.

His Daddy instincts said that his boy needed sleep.

Taking control, he ushered Greg into his bedroom, the layout of the house now as familiar to him as his own.

Greg was pliant as he unbuttoned his shirt and drew it down his arms. He lifted his legs easily as Marco slipped his pants down over his feet.

Arms up, he prompted. Greg complied, allowing Marco to drag his undershirt over his head. He seemed… thoughtful. Not relaxed, though.

Let’s go brush teeth. Greg leaned into his touch as he guided him into the bathroom. He thought about taking a shower together, but showers tended to wake Greg up instead of putting him to sleep, and a bath seemed like it would keep him up too late.

They brushed their teeth together and Marco enjoyed the simple domesticity of it. Greg smiled at him in the mirror, and for a while it seemed like everything was fine.

He gave Greg a moment of privacy, and then hustled him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. These little acts were so close to filling this need in his soul—but only if Greg appreciated them for what they were.

Once Greg was in bed, Marco quickly stripped off his own clothes. Recently, he’d been sleeping without his packer on when Greg came over, a change which Greg never mentioned. Did he not notice or not care? And did it matter?

He left one soft lamp on so that they could talk, if Greg wanted to, and then slipped into the other side of the bed.

Greg automatically rolled toward him, throwing one arm over his ribs and hiding in his shoulder. He loved that even though Greg was bigger, he usually arranged himself in such a way that made it clear that Marco was holding him instead of the other way around.

He didn’t settle, though. First, he turned away. Then he turned back around. Then, he pressed soft, little kisses to Marco’s neck.

Dammit. Marco had read the situation wrong. Did Greg want a scene? Was he supposed to step in more and take charge? Be more of a Dom and less of a Daddy?

He wished that he had the magical ability to guess what Greg needed and just give it to him, but lacking that, the solution was communication.

He tapped his shoulder. You seem restless, he started, giving Greg an opening.

Sorry, Greg looked contrite.

Well, that wasn’t helpful. What’s going on? How can I help you?

Greg looked… frustrated? Disappointed?

Are you thinking about Richard?

I… no. But he was being evasive.

Marco wanted to demand his honesty and spank him if he didn’t comply. But that wasn’t the relationship they’d agreed upon. Whatever kinky friends-with-benefits set-up they had going on didn’t allow him to make that demand.

Am I doing things that remind you of Richard? It was like there was perpetually a third person in their relationship.

No… I mean, sometimes. He couldn’t read Greg’s expression.

Marco had gone into their evening tentatively excited about their future, but now he felt like it was slipping away, like a page from a book lost to the wind. He hated this caginess.

He finally asked the question that he’d been afraid to ask. His promise to avoid activities that would remind Greg of Richard had become a kind of buffer for him, but he’d been realizing recently that it was also sitting heavily between them.

Is it the opposite? Would you like me to do more of the things that you did in the past? He decided not to mention Richard’s name.