Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love - Chapter 28: Chapter 28

I took an extra long shower after work the next day. If me and Trace were going to sleep together I needed to be more than clean.
Even after doing the appropriate trimming, primping and packing my overnight bag I was still nervous. What if we had the same problems we'd had last time? What if Trace spontaneously stopped being attracted to me? What if I threw up? What if I had a panic attack? My thoughts went around and around until I remembered that Trace was patient, thoughtful and definitely into me.  No one else would be willing to wait this long or be willing to put up with this much.
After our conversation the previous night I'd already called and scheduled sessions with Dr. Yaya for the next year. The sessions would be once a week for the first month and then we'd move on from there. It took me about two hours of staring at her contact and sweating before I was able to do it. But I wanted to sleep over at Trace's knowing I'd at least tackled one thing on my list.
It was weird that I felt lighter and more sure of myself after crying all over Trace the previous night. Answering my emails had also gotten rid of some of my stress. I still hadn't opened Isaac's email. I didn't want to rely on other people to save me anymore. Even if it was a really great job opportunity, I still wanted to apply for and interview at other places, too.  But, I'd handle that all after tonight.
I rifled through my duffle bag, double and triple checking I'd brought a change of clothes, toiletries, protection, and my favourite knitted socks.
I took a big breath before leaving my apartment and locking everything up. I knew trying to convince myself not to be nervous wouldn't work so I just focused on getting to Trace's place. It was about half an hour by train and I swiped my metro card before getting into the station and then rushed for the train.
It was a breezy October evening, but it was a Friday so the trains were a little more full than I would have liked. I listened to a soothing soundtrack to calm my nerves but I didn't think it was working.
Eventually, I was at Trace's apartment lobby and the concierge let me in. Then, all of a sudden I was at his door and I wasn't sure exactly how things would progress.
Would he just tear my clothes off as soon as I entered? Is that how things were supposed to work? No, Trace wasn't like that. He'd probably tease me.
As soon as Trace opened the door I realized I was most definitely right. He was wearing an oversized crop top that exposed his navel and the musculature of his flat stomach. There was usually a treasure trail that lead into his briefs but Trace was smooth today. And, fuck, as soon as I saw his shorts my mouth went dry.
You couldn't even call them shorts. They barely covered him from the front and as soon as Trace turned I saw that they barely covered him from the back. It was worse than him being nude because I was immediately drawn to the obscenity like a moth to a flame.
Turned on but also embarrassed I placed my duffle bag on my front and walked into the apartment. I made sure to keep my eyes tracked away from Trace's shorts. It felt rude to stare. But then he turned around and the crop top exposed the long line of his back and the sensual dip that lead to his ass. Hurriedly, I looked elsewhere. But then I wasn't watching my feet and I bumped into the wall.
"Oh God!" I groaned, moving carefully away from the wall. "Where did this thing come from..."
Trace guided me gently away from the wall and brought me to the couch. I sat awkwardly on his couch and it was only then that I noticed Trace was talking to me.  I blinked, but my eyes wandered to Trace's well formed thigh and I lost my train of thought.
"Too much?" Trace said softly.
"It's just very distracting," I admitted quietly.
"I can change?"
"Okay."
Trace disappeared and I watched him walk away, unable to peal my eyes away from his ass.
He came back wearing shorts that were nowhere near as indecent and I noticeably relaxed. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.
Trace smiled shyly, but even he had the slightest blush on his cheeks. "It's okay, I think I got a bit over excited. Being around you makes me a bit intense." He fidgeted slightly in his seat and his face only became more red.
"So we can watch a movie and eat some snacks and then go to my room?" He brought my hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of my knuckles.
The both of us knew what going to his room meant and I also realized that he was going to let me relax for the duration of the movie before getting down to business. He dimmed the lights and got out a small platter of cut up fruits.
He put something nonsensical on and curled into my side. Every now and then he'd feed me a slice of mango or watermelon. Towards the end of the movie I was feeling bold and sucked the juice off of Trace's fingers, licking up and down his index finger.
Trace emitted a soft moan. He moved his fingers out of my mouth and kissed me. Hard. This kiss was different; hungry in a way Trace hadn't yet been.
He crawled into my lap and I clutched his ass as he licked into my mouth and his hips bucked against mine. It was almost too good and Trace stopped kissing me but gave me a dark, ravenous look.
"Wait, I need to go to the bathroom and then I need to get you something."
I waited a bit for Trace to come back, and when he came back I was stunned to see he was carrying a bouquet of twelve long stem roses.
I gasped, covering my face. "Oh my God, Trace. You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," he insisted as he handed the bouquet to him.
I'd never been given flowers before and the thoughtfulness of the act brought tears to my eyes.
"I'm sorry," Trace said when he noticed the glossiness of my eyes, "is it too much?"
"No, no! I love them, thank you." I pulled Trace against me and gave him a hard hug. For a second he sounded like he got the air knocked out of him but he was hugging me just as hard.
We fell onto the couch and Trace straddled my waist as we just looked at each other. This was really happening.
"I want you so much," I admitted , trailing my hands across his chest and his waist. I wanted all of him right now. "You're so beautiful, Trace."
Trace's expression was almost vulnerable as he took in my compliments. I pulled off his shirt and sucked against he throat, just wanting to make him feel good.
"Oh, fuck," Trace moaned, and the sound was like music to my ears.
"Can we go to your room?" I asked quickly, surprised when the words came so easily.
"Yes, please!" He said loudly and his enthusiasm was flattering.
But, first I put the flowers in an empty vase nearby a window. Just to be safe.
Then, I followed Trace to his room and I noticed that he had some items set up on his nightstand and everything we could possibly need was set up there.
Trace had a speaker system set up and he started playing some music with a deep,sensual rhythm as he teased me. My clothes started to come off in the process and soon they were discarded in heaps on the floor. It was easy to let him take the lead and even easier to let him get me naked.
Trace touched my skin gently, continually pausing to see if I would tell him to slow down or stop. But I just wanted him to keep touching me everywhere. He kissed my lips and started working down my body, going from shoulder to elbow, to my hands. And then he was at my chest, sucking in nearly invisible hickeys. He trailed kisses down my belly and I stopped breathing.
Then he skipped over my waist and I groaned from sheer disappointment. "Please," I whispered softly, already feeling lost and needy. God, I needed him so much.
But Trace ignored me, kissing his way down my right thigh, and then my left.
"How do you feel?"  He asked me in a rough voice.
I hummed. "I feel good."
"Tell me what you want."
I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed loudly. Why was it so hard to ask for what I wanted? "Could you— kiss me, please?"
Trance moved fully onto my lap and I groaned loudly. I was so naked and it just wasn't enough. I needed to feel his skin sliding sinfully against mine and anything else was just teasing.
I asked him if he was ready and he said he was. I knew Trace had been ready for this for a long time and now that I was, too, it was glorious.
I guess the next thing we did was foreplay, even though I felt like we were both ready, I let Trace take the lead. It wasn't just easier but it felt right. There was something about my embarrassment in those moments that was a little bit addictive since Trace was the one making me feel that way. Making me want and feel wanted in turn. God, it was so good.
"Trace," I said desperately, just wanting him to understand I couldn't wait anymore. It was hard for me to speak because my thoughts were still going miles a minute. Even though I was comfortable and Trace was touching me everywhere that wasn't a calming state. It just made me desperate for the touches to continue.
He finally started to take off his prosthetic and his sleeve and the several seconds felt like several minutes. His sleek prosthetic was on his side table before he rolled down his sleeve. The white compression material was also discarded on the table and I soaked in Trace's completely nude frame.
He was so lovely it was nearly painful. It wasn't even the muscles or his smooth tawny skin or his dark, intelligent eyes, or his forever kissable lips. It was just Trace.
"Lie down, Darius," he ordered and I had to hide a near shiver. Yes, he was bossy and it was amazing.
"Please," I said, beginning to fidget, "I can't wait anymore. I can't—" I remembered to lay down then, and my voice stopped as Trace continued to touch me.
His hands stroked my thighs as my breaths shuttered. Finally, he stretched towards the side table and started to open a condom. He put it on me and I sucked a breath between my teeth even as he applied lube to me and then to himself.
Watching Trace was sinfully perfect and it clicked for me that he definitely liked to be watched. "Trace," I pleaded, "I'm right here. Can you— please, just—" use me, make me yours, mark my body. "God," I groaned, "fuck." Words were impossible when all the blood that used to be in my brain had gone south.
But Trace did things on his own time and so it was another moment before he raised his body over mine and fed my member inside of himself. I breathed harshly, trying to stay calm. We'd never gotten this far before and I watched Trace's expression for warning signs. He was still seating himself, and he looked determined to take all of me.
I gasped when he did. "Holy fucking shit, you're so— tight. Wow."
It was a bit overwhelming and I covered my face with my arm for a second to relax. There were just so many sensations and my skin felt hyper sensitive. I felt hypersensitive.
Trace started to move and I was still marvelling at the fact we were where we wanted to be me months ago. Undoubtedly connected.
"Look at me, Darius," Trace said, in a voice I couldn't not listen to.
I did but then Trace suddenly stopped moving. "Are you okay?" He asked slowly, like we were just chilling on the couch and he wasn't fucking impaled.
"Yeah," I lied and my voice cracked a little. "Actually, no," I corrected. I needed reassurance and a bit of comfort but I didn't know how to ask for it. "I need—uhm."
Trace cupped my cheeks and looked at me softly. He leaned down and kissed me, letting his tongue wrap around mine sensually for a few seconds. He only moved back slightly to talk into my ear, "I can give you what you need, Darius. Just tell me, and I'll move the fucking sky for you."
Okay, that was very reassuring. "I just need you to never stop wanting me," I said softly, "please." I wanted to tell him I loved him, because I did, but that mere thought threatened to overwhelm me so I just focused on Trace's body.
I started to move and Trace groaned softly. His eyes were always on mine, no matter what, and I loved that. Things were different when I wasn't anxious, nervous or shy. They were almost easy and Trace made them even easier.
He didn't make me feel awkward or embarrassed and maybe that's why the minutes blended so naturally together in the same way it was like our two bodies became one.
#
Afterwards, I was surprised at how normal I felt. Yes, couples did this, but it was almost surreal that there were no hiccups this time.
Trace announced that we were taking a snack break even though I was more than ready for round two. He told me to go to the fridge and get something that had my name on it.
I wasn't sure what he meant until I went to the fridge and saw a large platter of chocolate covered strawberries. On top of the saran wrapped platter was a cardstock placard with 'For Darius' with a little heart. Wow.
I closed the fridge and then opened it again, realizing I wasn't dreaming and Trace was really that sweet. I had a goofy smile on my face but I carried the platter proudly to the bedroom.
"When did you even plan all this?" I asked.
He gave a half shrug. "I just wanted it to be special."
My heart melted at that and I moved beside Trace on the bed. I took off the plastic wrapping and tried a chocolate covered strawberry. They were dark chocolate with white chocolate drizzles and I was happy to munch away.
Trace picked up a fruit and brought it to my mouth. I closed my eyes and chewed, unable to take the intensity of Trace's gaze. A small droplet escaped my mouth and Trace's tongue was there, licking up that droplet before it turned into a kiss.
It continued on like that until the platter was finished. I wanted us to go again but I didn't know how to ask. What was the best way to phrase it? I put my hand on Trace's thigh and looked at him.
"Can we go again?" I asked quietly, knowing that how I felt was physically obvious but I still needed to speak. "Please," I whispered.
Trace kissed me in response and I knew it was an emphatic and enthusiastic yes. His hands started to travel south and I was reminded I didn't have to think about therapy, or Baking Beasts or my anxiety or any of the things wrong with my life when there was so much going right. Like this; this undeniably beautiful thing with Trace.
#
A few days later I'd had my first appointment with Dr. Yaya and it was nowhere near as scary as I thought it'd be. We talked about a lot of things, and it was still mentally exhausting but not too humiliating.
After my session I met up with Trace to discuss the camping trip I'd agreed to. Things were completely the same and entirely different after we'd had sex for the first time. I knew, without a doubt, that Trace would defer to my pace in the event things were too much for me. No one had ever been so patient with me and it meant a lot.
Trace had already started packing for our camping trip and he'd emailed me a list of things we would need and I realized it was a lot. We packed together and talked about zombies briefly before Trace dropped a bombshell.
"So my parents are visiting for a couple days next week. Did you want to meet them?"
"Your what?!"
Trace winced at how loud my voice got. "My mom is a performer at this event the Japanese community here is hosting. She's just talking about the importance of history and culture. She's celebrity invite. I said she was a celebrity, right? It's a two day festival that we like to go to every year. Me and Nalini dress in kimono or yukata and take a couple days off work if we're working."
"Why didn't you mention any of this before? A week? That's not enough time for me prepare!" What if she didn't like me? Or black people? Or gay people?
"Well, I've been a little preoccupied with us the past little while," Trace said softly. We were sitting beside each other on his couch and he put his hand on my thigh, rubbing slowly. "And before that you seemed stressed and I didn't want to add to it."
"Oh," I said quietly, "but did you want to invite me since you knew about it?"
"Yes," Trace said quickly, still rubbing my thigh.
"Then I wish you told me sooner, even though I had stuff going on."
"Okay," he said quietly, "that's understandable. Next time, I'll give you more notice. But, you don't have to go if you don't want to, Darius. It's okay to say no."
"Did you tell your parents about me?"
Trace gave me a gentle smile. "Of course, Darius. They are way too interested in my love life."
The more and more I thought about it the more nervous I felt. "How do they feel about black people?"
Trace's smile fell but he took me seriously. He held my hand. "They're not racist even if they come from cultures that usually are. My parents both know how badly I was treated in Japan so they know there's no justifications and stereotypes are meaningless."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Okay, Uhm— I don't know if this is rude...Do they speak English?"
"It's a good question to ask," Trace said, "and my dad does but my mom doesn't. She speaks French, though. She spent a year in France as a ballet student when she was thirteen and kept up with the language. So you'll be okay. I'll be there with you and it won't be scary. But you can also say no. I'm okay with that."
I breathed shakily. "Can I think about it?"
"Of course," Trace assured me, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. The first time I'd met Trace I didn't think being soft was in his nature but I couldn't be any more wrong. He was always soft with me. Always. "How was filming your YouTube thing with Manny?"
"It was good. I made the cake I wanted to make for the competition. Dr. Yaya said it was good to just do it so I wouldn't have any regrets. It felt like...I finally did this thing I really wanted to do and now I can move on."
"You're doing a really good job, Darius," Trace said kindly, "Do you feel like you still re-live the finals of the competition?"
"It's not as bad as it used to be. But I'm worried about posting. I made a new email account and everything but— what if someone leaves a mean comment?"
"No one is going to leave a mean comment and even if they do they're a fucking hater. If you feel like you're worried about what people think maybe it's best to stay away from social media." He frowned. "It's not worth the stress."
I shook my head. "I guess it's silly to be afraid And I doubt I'd be popular anyways. It's just one video...I don't know if I'll do more. Manny is posting it tomorrow."
"I'm going to be your first view," Trace said very seriously.
I laughed at his seriousness. "Well, if you want to be."
"I do want to be."
"That's good," Trace said, and then he paused. "We should go to a gay bar some time soon. That could be fun? We could go on a quiet night, and I'd stay with you the whole time?"
I knew Trace was definitely into the nightclub life and I most certainly was not. He'd asked me once or twice to go out clubbing with him and his friends but it just wasn't my scene. Lately though, I'd wondered exactly what Trace got up to and what about clubbing he found fun.
"What do you consider a quiet night?" I asked slowly.
Trace was quick to answer, "you know, not too many people. There's this place I know. It's a little more expensive but it's nice. Very gay but polished. They're not so grope-y there."
"People grope you when you go out?"  I said incredulously.
"You know how gay men are," Trace dismissed me.
"No," I said, "I don't." I noticed I was irritated about a second after I realized I was jealous. "I don't want guys touching you. You're taken."
Trace laughed, not at all bothered. "Yes, that's what I say  if anyone does hit on me. But, if this is you being jealous it's kind of hot. So come with me sometime. Maybe after my parents go back to Japan."
"I'll think about it."
Trace gave me a hug. "Okay that makes me happy." The hug lasted a few seconds and when Trace suddenly kissed my neck I groaned. His voice was low, "We can finish packing later?"
Trace knew how to be especially tempting and I considered it for a moment. In the end I turned towards him and kissed him, pulling his body until he was straddling my lap. "I just want to kiss you," I said against his mouth, "please."
Trace didn't reply, only folding his body against mine and meeting me frantic kiss for frantic kiss.