Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

I didn't normally drink, never mind get drunk but the next evening was the last night of our trip and we drove a bit out of town to go to a gay bar. I'd put it on the itinerary as a maybe because of how nervous I was about going to a bar. But I knew Trace liked those sorts of things so I was trying to compromise.
I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that was a little more snug than I was comfortable with but Trace's outfit was insane.  The two of us were in the bathroom, facing the mirror and getting ready for a night out.
I was just brushing my waves and adding some moisturizer to my hair. But Trace was leaning over the counter with an eyeliner pencil and adding eyeliner to his upper and lower lid. I'd never seen him wear any kind of makeup before and the effect was interesting. It made the dark pools of his eyes stand out but there was a lot more than just his eyes standing out.
"Are you really going outside like that?" I asked Trace nervously.
Trace gave me a wink through the mirror. "I always dress like this when I go out."
He was wearing pants with a series of buckles and zippers that hugged his rear and his thighs sinfully. It wasn't even that tight but the material seemed to emphasize...a lot. That wasn't even the worst part.
The worst part was the mesh...thing that Trace was wearing as a top. The mesh holes were large enough for me to see his piercings, the taut muscles of his stomach and chest and he'd put some kind of oil on his arms and chest that made them shine.
His outfit was the definition of distracting.  "I can see your piercings..." I notified him gently.
Trace grinned. "That's the point!" He blinked a few times in the mirror before putting his eyeliner kit away. Then he turned and put his hands on my hips. "I won't be the only one dressed like this at the bar but I am going to be the only one you notice."
I swallowed. "You dressed like that for me?"
Trace's cheeks took on a tinge of red. "Kind of....this is the part where you compliment me by the way."
"You do look nice," I admitted shyly, unable to keep my eyes off of all the skin on display. On display for me.
Trace upturned his face and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you, baby. If you're ready we should head out."
I washed my hands in the sink and we got our stuff organized. Trace only carried his driver's licence, a credit card and a few other things were stuffed into his pockets that I didn't notice because I was busy calling us an Uber.
To my great relief Trace had a dark leather jacket that he wore which concealed a good amount of his outfit.
And then we were off and I was so nervous. I knew I'd put it on the itinerary but I still didn't know what to expect.
"Don't leave me," I blurted out suddenly as we were waiting outside for the car to pick us up.
Trace blinked. "What?"
"Even if you have to go to the bathroom don't leave alone there. I just don't want people to talk to me. Except you. I obviously want you to talk to me."
"It's a gay bar Darius and you're—well... People are definitely going to want to come up to you and come onto you and hit on you. Even if I'm there. And we honestly don't have to go to a place like that. They have that drive in movie theatre which is definitely more low key. I could go back and change and we can do that?"
It was so tempting. It was so tempting to just do what I'd always been used to and make the choice that wouldn't stress me out. It was hard to know if the right choice was pushing myself or if it was better to avoid a potential panic attack. But then I looked over at Trace and obviously his ridiculous outfit and I wished I could be as confident as he was.
"I want to go to the bar," I said eventually, "but I need you to stay with me and if—if it's too much then I'm going to have to leave. If that's okay, then I don't mind going."
Trace touched my arm, and stepped close to me. "Of course that's okay, Darius. I wouldn't be able to have fun if you weren't having fun."
I nodded quickly and that was when our car arrived. I took a deep breath and got into the car.
#
"Yeah, sweetie, tell me all about how he's the love of your life?" The bartender was leaning in close to me, listening intently as I told him all about Trace. He was a little fuzzy around the edges and all I could really see was his smile but that was okay.
"Can I have another one of those drunks with the fancy straw?" I asked the bartender.
I'd had a lot of those drinks with the fancy straws and maybe everything was spinning a bit but I felt warm and happy. The bartender kept coming around to check on me and he was nice.
"Yeah, he's the best," I explained, trying to get my words not to topple all over each other, "his hair is like, wow. And his piercings are cool. But don't tell him I said that." My tongue felt big and a little bit useless in my mouth but everything felt great. My nervousness was washed away with all
the alcohol I'd had. One shot turned to three before I had one cocktail and then another. And maybe a few more after that. Realistically, I knew I was drunk but it was such a wonderful thing not to be nervous so I didn't even care.
"Did I tell you his name is Trace?" I asked the bartender. His shorts were really tiny and I figured that would be uncomfortable. And then I got to thinking about Trace in tiny shorts and then I started to miss him. Trace would look so amazing in tiny shorts. His nice, shapely thighs, and his big butt and even the little beauty mark in the inside of his thigh. It was all really important somehow. And I needed to tell Trace about all of that right away.
I turned around in my seat and almost lost my balance somehow. The bar was really crowded and there was a lot of groping, fondling and making out. It was crazy. But I was safe at the bar. Trace had made sure to make out with me lots to show everyone I was taken. But that had been before all the drinks.
The bartender laughed. "Yeah, hon, you told me his name is Trace. You told me not to call you baby because that's what he calls you and you told me bars make you nervous."
"Oops," I said loudly, "I'm sorry for being drunk."
He laughed again. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you. Drink to your heart's desire."
Trace finally came back from the bathroom and I had to give him a hug. "You took so long," I said quietly, "I was kind of lonely."
Trace hugged me tight. "I never figured you for this kind of drunk. I think it's time we leave, right?"
Trace's face was really close and despite how much he'd been dancing all night his eyeliner wasn't smudged at all. I nuzzled his cheek, feeling how warm it was. "I'll go wherever you want me to," I said over the music.
The bartender's laugh filled the air again and I remembered that me and Trace weren't alone. I moved back from him and made to stand up but then the world tilted just a bit sideways.
Trace's voice took on a sharp edge. "The last few were mocktails right?"
"Yeah, the bar has a few rules for inexperienced drinkers. Are you two closing out your tabs?"
I was still sounding out mock tail before I had an opportunity to go splitsies with Trace on our tab. It all happened so fast. One second I was sitting on the bar stool fumbling for my wallet and the next everything was already paid for.
"Yeah, I better take him back to our hotel and feed him some crackers. Thanks for keeping an eye on him."
"Toast is good, too, for big guys like him. Give him a lot of carbs and keep a bucket by the bed."
"I'm not that big,"I argued weakly, "everyone else is just small."
"No, baby, you're just the right size," Trace said right against my ear. "Can you stand?"
"Yeah, I know how to swim," I said back.
"Hey, if you guys ever need a third, I have a weekend gig in Toronto, sometimes."
"No," Trace said fast and hard, "we don't work like that."
"A third what?" I asked, looking between Trace and the bartender.
The bartender laughed, but replied to Trace. "Keep him close. If he wasn't almost shitfaced there would be vultures."
"A third what?" I said a little louder, wondering if they couldn't hear me. "Are you listening to me, Trace?"
"Yeah, Darius, let's just get out of here," Trace said softly.
"Did I ever tell you you have a really nice butt?" I said to Trace as he helped me out of my seat. "Sometimes I just want to lay on it like a cushion. It would be my favourite pillow."
Trace stopped in the middle of the dance floor and turned back to look at me. He sighed and continued walking, murmuring to himself.
"Where are we going?" I yelled at him.
"To the hotel, Darius."
"Oh yeah. Will you tuck me in and give me a kiss on the forehead? I like when you do that."
Trace was walking faster now and it was harder to keep up when the floor was rolling. We finally got to the coat check and Trace put on his jacket. But I wished it was off. I liked how he was clothed and yet not.
Once we got outside Trace was tapping away on his phone but I wanted him to pay attention to me. I stepped closer to him.
"Tell me I can kiss you," I said to him.
Trace looked up and blinked at me. Then he frowned. "No."
I frowned back. "What?"
"No, Darius, you can't kiss me."
"Why? Does my breath smell?" I did a little test and I smelled like all the drinks with the fancy straws.
"Darius, you're drunk, and I'm a bit buzzed but you're never like this and I'm not going to take advantage of you."
"You're...saying a lot of words right now but I don't really understand them."
"I'm not going to kiss you, we're not having sex tonight and I'm putting you to bed as soon as we get to the hotel."
"I like how bossy you are. Sometimes, I find it so hot. It's like, yeah, keep telling me what to do."
"Going to a bar was such a bad idea. I can't believe you talk this much."
"I thought you liked when I talked."
"Not like this. You're drunk so it's not real."
"Just because the floor is sliding doesn't mean things aren't real, Trace. Duh."
"The floor isn't— you know what? Just get in the taxi."
The taxi seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and we got into the vehicle but I managed to bump my head getting in. "Ow," I cried out, "why are those things always so low?!"
Trace grumbled to himself but helped me into the car and buckled my seatbelt. The soothing rocking of the car lulled me into sleep.
I woke up to Trace pushing me. "Wake up, Darius. I can't carry you even if I wanted to."
Everything was weird and I felt icky but I got out of the car and we made our way up to our hotel room. Once we get into our room I took off all my clothes and jumped on the bed.
"Oh my God, baby, no," Trace said.
I turned over on the bed, officially spread eagled. Trace's face was red and he was glaring at me. Somehow he still looked cute like that. I just wanted to squeeze him all over. Especially his butt.
"I'm thirsty," I said.
Trace grumbled but got me a bottle of water bottle that I downed in a few gulps. Then Trace turned down the lights and I could see the silhouette of his body in the dark as he changed. I could hear the sounds of him taking off his leg and then washing his sleeve in the bathroom and the rest of his evening routine before he crawled into bed with me.
I turned towards him, and he turned away. I could tell he was annoyed but I wasn't sure why.
"What did I do wrong?" I said quietly wishing I could fix it.
Trace turned around. "Nothing. You're allowed to get drunk but I'm annoyed I wasn't watching over you better. I didn't realize you had such a low tolerance for alcohol."
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I usually try not to drink because I start saying stuff I wouldn't usually be able to say. It makes me feel bad about myself. That's no fun."
Trace turned on the bedside light and sat up. "I wish you told me that earlier."
"Can we cuddle though? Is it okay if we do that? I won't kiss you or anything."
"I don't mind if we cuddle, Darius."
I moved closer to him until I was the big spoon and and he was little one.
"I like it when you're you," Trace said quietly, "this is like...the opposite of you."
"When I'm not drunk anymore you owe me a forehead kiss. At least three. And one day when we get married it could be like this every night. But I think I'd like my own room. Just so I have my own space, y'know? I need somewhere to go in case I need to fart or if I need to freak out. And sometimes you kick me when you're sleeping or I'm talking in my sleep and I feel like it's not weird for couples to have separate beds if that's what they want and they're into that kind of thing and it doesn't mean I love you any less, you know? You know I love you, right?  So yeah, I think when we get married I want my own room. Is that okay? But we can do sexy stuff in your room. I want my room to be a sexy stuff free zone just so I don't feel pressured to perform. But if we have kids then things might have to be different. But I don't think I can have kids until I'm normal, you know?"
Trace moved out of my embrace, sat up, and stared at me in complete shock. Then, he blinked several times. "How often exactly do you think about us getting married? I don't even know how to address the rest of all...that. But wow. Wow."
"Hmm, when your parents came? But I'm too young to get married. Maybe when I'm thirty?" I moved closer to Trace and nuzzled his cheek. "Okay, maybe when I'm twenty-nine. You smell awesome."
Trace gently pushed me away. "We're going to have a long talk about this all, later. How much of it is real and how much of it is alcohol..."
"I'm waiting for my forehead kiss," I reminded Trace.
"I guess a forehead kiss right now would be okay..." Trace replied slowly. He cupped my face and kissed me once on the forehead. There was a moment where he held still with his lips still on my forehead before he folded his limbs against mine.
#
I woke up the next morning to a dry mouth, a splitting headache, and foggy memories of the night before. The room was empty and I saw that Trace left a note on the dresser.
Will smuggle you some food if I can. Take the pills and take a shower.
I looked to the bed stand to see a bottle of water, and a couple of Advil. I took the pills and gulped down the water before getting up from the bed and making my way to the bathroom. I felt completely awful. And I looked just as bad. My eyes were bloodshot and I felt like the stench of alcohol was coming out of my pores. Everything was so easy last night but this morning I kept running over all the things I shouldn't have said. So incredibly stupid.
I regretted it all so terribly. I literally had not been able to shut up. Trace probably thought I was ridiculous. Even though he'd put a bucket beside the bed and tucked me in and had put my du-rag on for me at some point in the night. I looked through my toiletries bag for my shower cap and got it on my head before brushing my teeth and gargling.
I got into the shower, still worrying about all the foolish things I'd said when I heard the hotel room door open and close and then the bathroom opened, too.
"Baby, can I come in?" Trace called quietly.
I cleared my throat, not sure why I was so nervous. "Okay."
A few minutes into my shower, Trace joined me and gave me a soft good morning kiss. His lips were soft and pliant for a beat before the kiss got a touch more desperate. Trace's hands were all over my arms, my chest, my waist and on my stomach as if he was making sure I was all there.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I didn't mean to ruin our night."
Trace laughed gently, still roving his hands over my slick chest. "No, Darius, it was kind of funny. I've never seen someone get that drunk over such little alcohol. But we should've talked about our limits before heading out. I was just a bit annoyed at myself for not watching you better. And okay... all those twinks at the bar thought they had a shot with you and that was ridiculous and kind of annoying."
"I saw guys hitting on you, too, Trace," I teased him gently, remembering the early part of our evening when guys had shamelessly trailed their hands over Trace's mesh... thing until I had to pull him closely against me and glare at people who tried to get too friendly. It had just about stopped after that.
Trace looked away but blushed as he stepped closer to me. "They just thought I was good for a quickie in the bathroom because of my clothes. It's different. And anyways I still owe you your forehead kisses."
I smiled, a warm feeling in my chest blossoming when I realized he'd remembered. "You do."
I leant down and Trace gave me a few kisses on the forehead. It wasn't remotely sexual but that didn't stop my body from noticing just how close the two of us were standing. And we were naked.
I moved closer to Trace, and cupped his face. "Can I kiss you?"
Trace closed his eyes and parted his lips. "We've been dating for like nine months now, you don't need to ask me that question."
"Well, I just want to be sure."
"Okay, just kiss me, please," Trace said eagerly.
We kissed and touched until our skin started to prune and the water started to turn cold. Trace yelped at the sting of cold water as we hurried out of the shower. He nearly slipped as he extended his leg out over the rim of the tub and his eyes widened right before I was able to catch and stabilize him.
"Are you okay?" I asked him seriously. He was never this clumsy.
Trace sighed. "The fit on my leg is getting a little fucked up. I just change the thickness of my sleeves. I'm sure something will start to feel right soon."  He seemed down about it and I didn't want him to be in a bad mood for the rest of our day so I gave him a hug.
I opened my mouth to say something but then my stomach growled so loudly that the both of us started laughing and the mood completely shifted.
#
Our romantic getaway came to a close that day and we were headed back into the city. I felt happy and refreshed and in love. Trace hadn't minded following the itinerary and when we deviated from the schedule he cleared it with me first. I liked that he always seemed to be listening to me even when I didn't seem to be saying anything.
Trace's parents were in Canada for another week so he was largely unavailable as they were spending family time together. I spent the week making a series of videos for my YouTube channel. I had a backlog going so that I would always have videos I could post. I was baking so much partially because I had free time and also because I was stressed.
Baking Beasts was set to premiere the week after Trace's parents went back to Japan and I didn't know how to feel about it. I didn't know who to talk to about it either. The entire reality TV show experience had been too much for me in a way it took me months and many therapy sessions to fully understand. It had taken this long for me to really admit to myself I hadn't been doing myself any favours. Yes, I'd made baking friends who I still video chatted and emailed but I'd also almost ruined the joy I got when I was baking. Why on Earth would I want to relive and be reminded of all those terrible moments?
But the commercials had started airing, Manny told me my business email was getting interview requests from reporters and more people were connecting the dots that I was on the tv show, the fact I had a YouTube channel, and that Cyrus was my brother. To my surprise I even had a Wikipedia page, and I'd somehow made it into Cyrus' Wikipedia page, too. My YouTube fans apparently called themselves the Darius Army. It was overwhelming and I tried not to think about it too much.
Almost two weeks passed in something of a blur as it got closer to the holiday season and Baking Beasts was going start airing. I debated whether or not I should watch it. I talked it over with my therapist, with Manny, with Trace, and even with Cyrus. They all gave me mixed advice that came down to me doing what I felt comfortable with.
And then it was the premiere night and I was surrounded by my family in my parents' house. Both my parents were there as well as Cyrus, CJ, Manny, his fiancé, Marísol, and of course, Trace. Manny's mom, Carmen, and my former manager from sweets N things, Maureen, also stopped by.
The house was filled with excitement and energy but I felt sick. I'd gone back and forth with it but I realized I couldn't do it. I wasn't ready to watch it surrounded by so many people who would be watching me for my reaction. But, I didn't want to ruin the party either.
The opening credits started to roll as I got up from the couch, carefully stepping over CJ's sprawled body on the ground, and passing by the questioning look of my parents.
So, I went to the kitchen and started to bake. The premiere was two hours and I could definitely make a cake in that time. Maybe a marble cake or a strawberry short cake or even something more decadent like a triple chocolate cake.
CJ was the first one to look for me in the kitchen. He stared at me, wrinkling his brow in confusion. "Why are you in here Unca D, when your show is on over there? You're missin' it!"
"It's okay," I murmured softly, taking out some ingredients. I didn't live there anymore but my parents seemed to always keep the kitchen stocked with my favourite brands "I'll watch it when I feel ready, CJ, and it isn't right now."
CJ sighed loudly in the way only a child could. "Fine, okay. But I'm gonna watch it. It's so cool seeing you on TV like Daddy. I'll tell you all the cool parts."
I laughed at that as CJ scampered off. The next person to come into the kitchen was my mother.
She walked across the kitchen silently before stopping in front of me. "Are you okay, Darius?" She said quietly, her voice dripping with concern. My mother wasn't an emotional woman and all her emotions appeared more subdued than on most people. It was her crossed arms, the lowness of her voice and the slight frown that translated concern to me.
"Does it bother you that I didn't turn out like Cyrus?" I found myself saying quietly.
Her expression hardened. "I love each of you equally."
I didn't say anything as I measured and she pressed on.
"You're different from Cyrus and there's nothing wrong with that, Darius. I know that as a mother I can be distant but it isn't because I don't love you. It doesn't bother me that the person you love is a man, or the fact you like to bake. Or that you like to sew and how good you are with your hands. I should have said this all when you were young, but I didn't think you needed to hear it. I realize now that was a mistake."  She paused thoughtfully. "I only worried about the life you would lead. I never really felt like this country could be our home until I realized this is the place you'd be accepted the most."
The tears came fast and hot. "You don't have to say that, Mama."
She came up to me and put her hand on my back. "Oh, but I do, Darius. Your brother and your father and me had a long talk. We all agreed we need to support you more, especially me. Affection doesn't come easy to me but that's no excuse. It's not an excuse for me not to tell you how proud of you I am. Not about the tv show but what a lovely son I've managed to raise. You know I love you, right, my son?"
I didn't realize how much I needed to hear her say that until that moment. She hugged me and it was the first time she'd ever held me for that long. I wasn't sure how long we were like that before Trace came into the kitchen, and asked what was wrong.
My mother moved away from me and wiped at her eyes. "Just a mother-son talk. I'll leave the two of you alone now. And make sure you to put everything back exactly where you found it, Darius."
Trace's voice was soft as my mother left the kitchen, "Baby?"
"I'm okay," I said in a watery voice, "I'm okay. I'm just not ready to watch it."
"That's okay, Darius , you never have to watch it if you don't want to." Trace walked up to me slowly and fit his body against mine, fitting his head under my chin. His body was warm and familiar and it all struck me with the desire to kiss him.
"Can I kiss you?" I murmured against the silkiness of his hair.
Trace looked up at me and didn't even say yes, he just captured my mouth in a kiss, and I sucked his lower lip for a beat before steeping myself in the taste of him. "Are we getting out of here?" He said quietly, slowly pushing his hands beneath my shirt and stroking my bare skin. "We could go back to your place and I could help you unpack."
I still had a few things to unpack but I knew Trace didn't care about that. He looked like he just wanted to get to a bedroom or any slightly horizontal surface.
I flushed and extricated myself from his welcoming hold. "You should watch it. Tell me if it's safe to watch and then...maybe we can watch it together another time?"
Trace brightened. "Okay, I can do that. I'll just be in the living room, okay?"
I nodded. "Alright."
No one else came to bother me in the kitchen after that and I put on some music as I worked away. I baked, decorated and finished up the two tier cake within two hours and I realized I had nowhere to put it. Damn, I guess everyone would be getting take out.
Right before I was about to cut into the cake, everyone from the living room crowded into the kitchen, oohing and ahhing at the cake. I'd gone with the triple chocolate cake, going for a dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white chocolate tri-layer mix. No one asked me why I hadn't watched with them but they said the episode was interesting and I'd been great for the 15 minutes that I was featured. I cut the cake enough ways for everyone to take a slice or two home and we all socialized for the next hour before we all went our separate ways.
Trace had a bounce in his step as he drove us to my apartment. It wasn't really a bounce but more of a sway of his hips and a barely concealed excitement.
"Okay," Trace announced as if he had a barely concealed secret, "I'll say it. What do you want to do tonight? I think if we continue to chip away at it we can beat that level we're stuck on." Trace was referring to a video game the two of us had been playing together and I laughed. For some reason his excitement made me think he'd be talking more about a horizontal kind of game.
"Can't we do something else tonight?" I put my hand almost too high on Trace's thigh and squeezed, pressing my fingers firmly into his denim jeans.
Trace's tone changed instantly, "fuck," he murmured, "I guess doing that is more fun than a video game, huh?"
I looked out the window, trying to hide my embarrassment. "I want you to...be in charge today." It was so much easier to use euphemisms but I may as well have been talking dirty to Trace what with the way he reacted.
He hummed thoughtfully before speaking, "So you're saying you want me inside you, baby?"
"God," I mumbled, "I don't understand why you like embarrassing me so much."
Trace laughed, loud and confident. "Because you fucking love it, Darius. Which is fine because I love teasing you."
I grumbled something incoherent to myself and the rest of our short ride was quiet.
By the time we got into the elevator Trace asked if he could kiss me. And when I said yes, he was on me with such heat and force I was melting. He pushed me against the wall of the elevator and I slumped against the wall. Trace pushed a thick, muscular thigh between my legs and nibbled on my neck. His kisses moved up along my throat until he was at my jaw and the finally, at my mouth.
We were at my floor and the elevator doors were hanging open but Trace didn't make an effort to move us until the doors started to close. Trace pulled my hand out of the elevator and got me to my apartment and through the door. He was good at shepherding me to the right places whenever I got a little too lost in his touch.
Inside my apartment, Trace was tortuously slow, just kissing me and kissing me until I had to bite back my embarrassment and ask for more.
"Please," I murmured against his mouth, my voice hoarse and wanting, "do something else!"
Trace licked the side of my throat and I moaned. "Like that?"
"No, Trace, you know what I fucking mean," I said in frustration.
"Okay, baby, use your words. What do you want to do tonight?"
"I want you to..." I swallowed, looking down into Trace's eyes. "I want you to make love to me."
Trace's eyes widened and his expression softened, the heat in his gaze turning somehow more molten. "I can do that, Darius. I can always do that."
He helped me take off my clothes and I helped him with his before we got into the shower. It was slow, as Trace got his shower leg on and laid out his post shower leg care things. But then the both of us were in there and Trace was touching me, and kissing me. He washed me like I was something made of gold and glass and required special handling.
He was sweet, talking to me in a warm, low voice, telling me what he'd do to me when we were done. I felt hot and like my body was on fire. But soon Trace got me out of the shower and insisted upon lotionong me and drying me off.
"It's okay," I said, "I can do it."
Trace's voice was soft, "let me take care of you?"
I chewed my lip. "Okay, but let me do the same."
All this time had passed and I'd barely really touched Trace's left leg. He was obviously self conscious about it but he let me apply lotion to his leg and my hands were slow as I roved my hands up and down his residual limb. It wasn't pretty, and it never would be, but it was a part of Trace and so it didn't matter how it looked.
I bent down and kissed his knee, trailing kisses up his thigh,
He whined at the back of his throat. "You don't have to do that."
I looked up at him beneath my lashes. "I want to. I want all of you. You're always there for me and I want you to feel safe with me."
Trace touched my cheek. "I always feel safe with you, Darius." He cupped my face and dragged me upwards until I was sitting. The both of us were still naked and Trace's hair was damp but this moment felt significant somehow.  Trace crossed his legs and wrapped his hands around his waist. "I want you to know I'm staying in Toronto for the long term. I'm staying here. With you."
"Trace," I whispered, feeling like I finally got what he'd been hinting at for months. I was it for him. It was going to be us forever if I wanted that. "Thank you, Trace. Thank you for wanting this with me." I took both of his hands. "I'm going to be a good boyfriend. A good partner."
He smiled, shy and soft. "You're already all those things, Darius. You're a good man and you more than anything else tells me I'm meant to be here in this city with you." Trace kissed me and pushed me down onto the bed, straddling my hips. "I think we're talking too much, though. Didn't we want to do something else?"
"Oh yeah," I murmured, "something else. We can start now."
Trace was quick, he climbed off of me and moved down my body until his head was hovering at a very attentive part of me.
He breathed. "Should I start here?"
I shivered. "You can start wherever you'd like, Trace."
He didn't say anything, instead beginning exactly where he wanted to.
#
Christmas cake and went and Trace spent it with my family. He told me Christmas wasn't a big deal in his family but it definitely was in mine so it was a Big Deal for him to spend it with us.
Our Christmases were always small, and Cyrus always took a personal day on Christmas and Christmas Eve if he could. This was one of those years. In the morning everyone went to church except me, Trace and CJ. The three of us made a big breakfast for everyone to enjoy. I got a small step stool for CJ to stand on and the three of us spent some quality time together.
When everything got back we watched Home Alone which was CJ's favourite movie and then we proceeded with the gift giving. CJ was the baby of the family and he loved the attention everyone was giving him. Whenever he got excited his languages got a bit jumbled and it was adorable. By the time our Christmas Day was over CJ was calling Trace 'Unca T.' Everyone in my family was used to Trace and accepted our relationship which I found massively comforting.
Everything was going so well, seriously well. There were some days as December passed and  January pressed on where I thought my life was completely perfect. Perfect for me and what I wanted out of life. I wanted a partner, of course and love, and there it was all wrapped up so delightfully in Trace. So when he cancelled our date one day, I was surprised and concerned.
"I can't hang out today, my prosthetic has been fucking with me lately, so I'm seeing my prosthetist to see if I need a new one. Some extra padding was working for a while but..." his voice was even but I could hear the anger there.
Trace had confessed to me his anger episodes could come on suddenly but it was obvious to me it was always somehow related to his leg, even if only tangentially.
"I could come with you," I offered, "if you want that." Let me be there for you, was what I'd said to Trace not that long ago. But had he heard me?
There was such a long pause over the line and for a moment I thought he'd hung up. "I don't think that's a good idea," Trace said eventually in a voice that was so bitter it was unfamiliar. "I'll message you later."
Before I could say anything Trace hung up and I was left surprised at how efficiently he had ended our conversation. I sighed at my phone and shot off a quick message before heading out to work.
I called Trace when I got home and he picked up on the last ring. His voice was low and rough, "yeah?"
"How did your appointment go?"
His voice was hard and tight, "it was fine."
It was silent for a few seconds before I cut in. "Well, should I come over tonight? I can bring some groceries and I could make burgers and sweet potato fries. There's a new zombie movie out on Netflix—"
"Darius...why are you doing this?" Trace sounded pained and upset, "I'm really not good company and I don't want you to see me like this."
" I've seen so many parts of you, what's one more?" I murmured softly, wanting him to trust me the way I'd shown him I trusted him.
"Baby," Trace said softly, "you know I love you but I'm... scared. I don't want you to see me like this and—" he cut himself off, and silence filled the line. "I won't be able to live with myself if I lash out at you. I'll be normal again soon...probably. But not right now."
"You won't do it on purpose," I assured him, "and I know that. Why don't you let me be there for you the way you're always there for me? It's just dinner, okay?" You don't need to hide anything from me, I wanted to say.
Trace took a long breath before finally replying, "I think I could use a hug from you." He still sounded afraid, and somewhat resigned but I took the reluctant yes for what it was: an opportunity to show Trace he could rely on me.  We hung up and I made my way over, bagging my groceries and bottling my nerves away.