Page 72 of Love Language

Then, Greg opened his eyes. Those shirts were… special. When Richard left one of the red shirts on the closet door for me to wear, it meant that he was going to do something to me that day.

Do something like…

Like a scene. But it could happen any time. He might show up to work on my lunch break and drag me into a public restroom to do something dirty to me or attack me when I unlocked the door to the house. Sometimes, he’d just have me change from the red shirt that I wore to work into one of the red shirts for an evening out and take me to the club for a scene there.

I’d spend all day waiting, he continued, and get all anxious and turned on because I didn’t know what was going to happen or when. He gave a crooked smile. I think that’s why he did it, though, to make me crazy all day.

Marco gave himself a moment to process. Alright, it made a lot of sense that the shirt was triggering to Greg. It was designed to be triggering. And now that he knew about the trigger, he could avoid it. No more red shirts.

That was the easy part.

But the other part was harder to wrap his head around. Greg had always talked about his play with Richard in more clinical terms. Consensual non-consent. Role play. Impact play.

This was the first time that he’d shared some of those story lines. Dragging him into public restrooms and attacking him at his front door sounded like intense scenes, both emotionally and physically.

He wondered if Greg fought back when it happened. No, he didn’t wonder. It was clear that he must have. That was probably most of the thrill of the scene. Fighting off an attacker and then being subdued despite all his efforts.

They both probably wore bruises and scratch marks after those scenes. If not, there was probably psychological terror involved—be quiet and submit, or else.

Because that’s what CNC was. Marco knew this, but it just hadn’t seemed real before.

That’s what Greg was missing though.

And, dammit, if Greg needed it, Marco was going to try to provide it.

Even if it killed him a little bit inside.

He would need to really see Greg enjoying it to make it worthwhile. But he could do it. He would have to.

With a will, he turned his attention back to the present moment. He gave Greg a kiss on his forehead, then immediately second-guessed himself. Did Greg want those gentle kisses? He’d never complained before.

Not complaining and desiring something were a world apart, though.

Greg turned to him with those sad, red eyes and Marco hoped he hadn’t been spacing out for too long.

We can still go out dancing, Greg suggested. Maybe even pleaded.

Is that what you want?

I’d really like to. I think I need a distraction. And I want us to have a good time together.

That was encouraging, even if Marco wasn’t in the mood for dancing any more.

But if Greg wanted it, he would deliver.

Chapter 14 Greg

The Weekend Before Valentine’s Day

Greg relaxed on the couch. He could hardly believe that it had been almost a year since he and Marco had gotten together. Or at least, he liked to think of it that way. Even if he’d been an idiot for the first few months, this was kind of their anniversary.

The past year had been a slow transition for Greg, like a pendulum swinging in slow motion, as his attention shifted from Richard to Marco. Richard was still there, but Marco was… weightier. More present. The focus of his days.

When Greg woke up and went to sleep, when he saw something funny or had a rough day, his thoughts immediately turned to Marco. Marco was his center.

Greg looked at the picture hanging on the wall. The splash of color brought so much life to the room. Just like Marco had.

His house still echoed with Richard’s presence, but over the past few weeks Greg had quietly been going through the rooms. He kept the things that he loved and donated or threw away anything that wasn’t as meaningful. When Richard had left him, it seemed like every shampoo bottle and sock was a memento. Now he kept pictures and a few of Richard’s favorite things.