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The time felt like sludge. Like we were frozen in that moment for many minutes. Hours? I had no idea. My brain had completely shut down.
Thirty-fucking-four.For no reason. No reason at all.
“Ben?” I said quietly. I was surprised my mouth still worked. My hands didn’t. I wanted so badly to reach for him, to touch him. To cry all over the mess I’d made. “Ben, I’m really scared.”
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t you dare apologise.” I didn’t know where I’d found this voice, but it was suddenly there and I was just so relieved that I was still fully clothed as I lay down next to him and slowly snaked my arm around his stomach so he could push me away if he wanted to. He didn’t, thank God. I moved closer, my chest against his back, my lips between his shoulder blades, and held him as tight as I could. Him. Me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to find his hands. “You don’t want this.” I wasn’t expecting it to actually come out, but it did, and it was the truth. I was in the wrong here, and I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted me to leave right this second. Nor did I expect him to respond. His body was still vibrating with emotion, but he let me grab his hands, tangled my fingers with his.
“You don’t want this either,” he said in a voice that broke my heart.
I exhaled in relief. Because he was right. He was absolutely right.
“I don’t know what happened today. I just wanted everything to be…normal. I wanted to be what you expect. I thought that’s what we should be, like a normal couple who love each other and live together and are…intimate.”
He turned around in my arms, and I shivered with release. Not that kind of release. Just exhaustion from trying to do something I was no way geared up to handle. It wasn’t for me. It never had been, and the clarity thing—it was suddenly like my head was lit up like a Christmas tree. A bloody bright, impossible surge of stupidity I had to make sense of. But he was still here with me, still holding me as he shushed me and murmured sweet things.
“You’re perfect, Hugo. You’re perfect just as you are. You don’t have to do anything else or be anything different because to me, you’re everything.”
“Is it enough, though?” It was a question I had no answer for.
“I don’t want anything else. I don’t need it, and I don’t see why we have to. Hugo?” He did that thing where he leant back enough so he could lift my chin up. Then he kissed me. A soft kiss that went straight to the tips of my toes. “See? We have intimacy. We have love. We have exactly what we need right here. And I…I’m justthatperson.”
“That person?” I knew what he meant, but I still asked. Relief flooded through me like fire burning through my veins, followed by something cool. Calmness.
“Yeah. I don’t want…” He stopped. Breathed. Held me tighter. “The intercourse part. Any of that stuff. I’ve told you, I’m just… It’s not for me. All it brings is panic and fear and a horrible feeling of not being good enough because I don't feel what other people feel. I can’t do what other people do. And I know that’s not what sex is supposed to be, but it’s always been that for me. I don’t want to feel like that. Not with you.”
“Then we won’t.” I kissed his chest, his collarbone, moved up so I could taste his lips. I loved when he kissed me. I loved how he felt against my skin. How his hand crawled in under my clothes, drawing lazy circles on my hip.
“It’s not you, Hugo. It’s never you. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. I never enjoyed it with others because it was never what I wanted or needed. With you…”
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just wanted to give you…all of me.” I could so easily have fucked this up. I almost had and for no reason whatsoever.
“I already have all of you,” he whispered into my hair. “All of you right here. I never thought I needed someone, and look at me now. The thought of you not being here is terrifying. I need you. I need everything you are, and I won’t ever hurt you. I just want…us.”
“You have us,” I whispered back, planting tender kisses on his cheeks, his lips.
“We need to talk more,” he continued, his voice having found more strength. “About things like this. How we…function. I’m sorry I haven’t said a lot of things I should have told you. It’s just not that easy to talkabout. Nobody wants a boyfriend with no interest in sex, who’s indifferent to doing things that other people are so bloody obsessed with.”
“You’re perfectly normal. And I think…I get what you mean. Sex is not everything it’s made out to be. It can be, as you say, horrible.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t want it either, or not the way Lewis did. I don’t always understand how I feel about things, but I know—I’vealwaysknown—that I wanted to be with someone who loved me like you do. I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you too.”
We were silent after that. I loved our silence, when all I could hear was his heart beating next to mine, the soft thumps against my cheek as I bent down so I could be closer, listen, finally relax.
“I’ve changed my mind about wanting a TV,” I burst out, ruining the moment.
“No TV?”
“I like the silence. I can hear myself think. It’s good for me.” It was also safe. Soothing.
“I like the silence too. I can hear that you’re here. You rustle pages and giggle when you read something funny.”
