Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love - Chapter 38: Chapter 38

I'd never been so nervous to go and see Trace. Maybe because I didn't know what would meet me at the door. Maybe because it was very rare for me to be the comforter or the shoulder to lean on. I'd told Trace he could trust me and rely on me because I loved him but I'd never really had to prove it to him before.
I took the public transit to his apartment on auto pilot. I counted to ten in all the languages I knew and then repeated the process as I went from station to station and then the short walk to Trace's building. My skin felt like it was pulled too tight over the muscle and bone that made up my body and I felt more conscious of my bulk than I usually did.
I wasn't in panic attack territory but was nervous and stressed. Would I be able to do the right thing? Was I what Trace needed?
And then I got there. I knocked hesitantly on his door and I was surprised by how quickly the door swooped open.
Trace leaned heavily against a single crutch and gave me a significant look. I had braced myself Traces anger.  For an uncompromising obsidian gaze,  drawn brows and a tight mouth. His anger was a part of him I had seen before and was prepared to understand. I knew it was something he tried to keep a lid on whenever he got upset. But it wasn't anger that I saw.
My heart squeezed in sympathy as I took in the sheer exhaustion riddled across Trace's body. There were bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in days. The look of sadness and defeat on his face was not something I felt I could confront. I had never seen him looking so terribly broken before and it put a lump in my throat.
We made eye contact briefly before Trace looked away, but not before I could see a mottled blush begin to crowd his cheeks. Something I'd done had clearly embarrassed him but I wasn't sure what.
I walked into the apartment quietly and left my bag of groceries by the doorway.
Trace watched me quietly, gnawing on his lip worriedly. It would be adorable if it wasn't so heartbreaking. "It was nice of you to stop by, Darius, but..."
I walked over to Trace and wrapped him up in a hug. I squeezed him hard, digging my fingers into his waist and trying to make him feel that I could be there for him. He smelled freshly showered and his hair was even still a little damp. I breathed in his scent and just held him. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" I murmured softly into his hair.
Trace stilled and pulled back slightly to look up at me. His eyes were glassy and he blinked a few times until they cleared. "I'm your...sweetheart?" Trace said in a stunned voice.
For a moment, the two of us just stood there in an intimate tableau. The endearment had slipped out but I'd definitely meant it. It almost hurt that Trace looked so surprised it had come from me.
"Yes," I said, while rubbing a circle against his back. "Of course you are. Where's your prosthetic? Why aren't you wearing it?"
Trace frowned, pushing himself out of my hold. He looked stubbornly away but replied in a curt voice, "The fit is bad enough they told me not to wear it if I don't have to." He moved out of the entryway to his apartment and I watched him. His walk on the crutches was easy and practiced but slow. His voice lowered, "I only had it for two years so I thought it would last longer. They said it's because I live an active lifestyle but— I just hate the refitting process so much. I've spent almost half my life like this and it's hell every time." Trace got over to the couch and sat down, laying his crutch on the end table within reach.
"I'm sorry," I said, picking up my bag from the floor and stepping into the apartment. I closed and locked the door before removing my shoes and heading over.
Trace didn't say anything, instead picking up a controller and mindlessly getting through the level of an arcade game. I looked at him for a moment, taking in his baggy shirt and his shorts which went past his thighs and just about covered his stump. He was hiding himself today. But, it seemed like he was hiding more from himself than from me.
I made burgers and sweet potato fries just like I'd promised Trace and when it was done we sat together at the table and ate. It was our quietest meal yet, and without Trace supplying the conversation I struggled to think of things to say. Stupidly, topics like the weather, and small talk were the first things I thought of. My tongue felt too big for my mouth and my throat felt dry but I didn't stop talking.
Halfway through a story about gossip at my work Trace interrupted gently, "If you don't eat your food, Darius, it'll get cold."
I flushed. "Oh, uh, right."
We ate quietly then, but after our meal Trace did give me a small, yet, genuine smile. "Thank you for cooking for me, Darius."
After that I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do so I cleaned up and Trace went back to the couch. But this time he channel surfed. His gaze was blank as he scrolled through channels.
Once the kitchen was spotless I went over to the couch and moved beside him. Trace was quick to lean against me and I felt good about being there.
He turned his face into my neck and talked against my skin. His voice was small and almost frail, "I feel ugly today."
I started to turn in protest but Trace held me still.
"I just do, okay?"
This time I did turn and I cupped Trace's face in my hands. He had some stubble on his jaw, his hair was messy and windswept, his eyes were dark with circles underneath and his lips were pursed. But none of that could change how bottomless his eyes were or the way the raven tips of his lashes made his eyes so incredibly striking or the way his high cheekbones gave him an air of aristocracy. It also couldn't change how his lips made his face pretty in a way that made me ache.
"I've never met anyone so breathtaking, " I said quietly.
Trace blushed and whispered, "Oh." It was strange yet endearing to seem him shy and hesitant. He looked down for a brief moment as he bit his lip and then up at me.
"Yes," I said softly, leaning in closer to Trace. "I know I'm not good with words but I mean it."
Trace's eyes lidded as his head tilted in a question. I answered it with a kiss, slow and tentative.
He hummed into my mouth and deepened the kiss. It was tinged with an aggression that bordered on desperate. Trace got into my lap and crossed his thighs around my waist, folding his arms over my neck. He fingered the necklace I was wearing that he'd given me and kissed my jaw.
"You know you're mine, right?" He murmured, holding tightly to my necklace. The hold was as possessive and desperate as our kiss had been.
"I know," I said, softly, wrapping my arms around Trace's waist and stroking his back slowly.
"And that I'm yours?"
"Yes."
"And that sometimes—" Trace's breathing turned ragged, even as he clutched the necklace. "Sometimes, I'll be less than perfect."
"You're always perfect to me," I said, "even when you tease me too much."
Trace smiled, and kissed me on the cheek. "Even when I kick you in my sleep?"
I smiled back. "Even then."
He nuzzled my cheek. "I'm not down to fuck tonight but I just want you to hold me, baby."
My skin burned but I nodded. I hadn't even been thinking about sex even though Trace was sitting right on my lap with his thighs gripped around my waist. He was as close as he could possibly be but I could tell he needed it. Something about him sitting there with me made me realize Trace was fragile in unexpected ways and it took a lot for him to show me that fragility.
Trace was on me like a koala the rest of the night. If he wasn't hanging onto me or had some part of his body strewn across mine then he had his hands under my shirt as he drew imaginary patterns on my chest and my back. Or he'd be laying half on top of me listening to my heartbeat.
Once it was time for bed that didn't change except the lights were off and we were cuddling under the covers. It was a lot of physical contact for me but I thought I was handling it well. I felt capable and comfortable with snuggling with him as well as being so close to him. There was a part of me that was proud of how I could be there for Trace in my own tiny way.
But then somehow something changed in the dark. I could feel Trace's heavy gaze on me as he traced out my eyebrows, my nose and my lips with his thumb. His fingers were exploratory but there was a purpose behind it.
He dragged his thumb over my bottom lip and I made an embarrassing noise of want. There was a bit of pressure and then Trace's thumb was pulling down my bottom lip.
"I don't think you know gorgeous you are, Darius," Trace said in a low voice.
I tried to speak but Trace shushed me.
"Can I kiss you?"
I was feeling gooey on the inside and more than a little pliant as I nodded.
The kisses started with Trace exploring my mouth with a patience that surprised me. But they didn't stop. Just long, slow kisses that were having an embarrassing effect on me. He was warm and his tongue was hot in my mouth as he just kept kissing me.
"Trace, l—" I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say. I didn't want him to tease me and I felt frustrated.
Trace murmured, "I know, baby." He took off my shirt and started to nip at the meat of my pecs. "I can't believe you're my man and you're built like this. So fuckin' sexy."
My skin burned as Trace squeezed my pecs and kissed his way down my sternum. I moaned, even as Trace took off my sweats and then I was just in my boxers.
"Let me take care of that, Darius," Trace said, licking his lips.
"You don't have to. It'll go away if I ignore it," I said quietly. But I did want him to take care of it. I wanted his hands on me and his eyes on me and I wanted him to take ownership of my body. His hands were stroking my thighs and every few strokes his fingers would tease the inside of my thighs and I was loving it.
He gave me a look like I was being impossible.
I swallowed, convinced a little too quickly. "Uh, okay."
Trace sighed, and stopped any and all movement. "Be clear. Tell me what you want."
I licked my lips. "I want you to take care of me but you said we wouldn't be fuc— Uhm." I took a big breath, before turning on the bedside light. The glow was soft but allowed me to make proper eye contact with Trace. "I don't want to take advantage of you when your mind isn't really on sex," I finished without too many stutters.
Trace started up with stroking my skin again and he laughed softly. "Well, right now, I'm thinking about how nice it would be to take care of you. And you're not taking advantage of me, baby. I don't think you have a manipulative bone in your body."
"Oh," I mumbled, "thanks, I guess."
"Are you nervous?" And then Trace was moving away from me again.
"Yes," I admitted. I hated myself a little bit then for how much easier it was to think when Trace wasn't touching me. I wished for the millionth time that I was normal.
But his voice was soft, and warm in the near dark, "Did I do something, Darius? You can tell me."
I shook my head emphatically. "No, it's not you, I promise. I think I'm just worried about you and it's stressing me out. But I'm okay if we...do stuff. I just don't want to be teased, okay? Usually, I l-l-like that kind of thing even if I don't really like to admit it since it's kind of embarrassing. But, even if I'm a-aroused that doesn't mean we have to do stuff. And I feel guilty since you're not in a great mental spot today. It's inappropriate but my body just...reacts to you."
Trace smiled softly and it felt like his first real smile of the day. "You're sweet, Darius, but if I'm asking to do stuff then that means I want it. And if you want it, too, then that's okay. And I like that your body reacts to me."
I licked my lips. "Then, okay we can do stuff."
Trace leaned in to kiss me and I met him halfway. Every time we kissed I was always struck by how well Trace managed to thoroughly use my mouth. I would never get used to how right it felt when he took the lead. I put my hands in his hair the way he liked and he moaned softly as we made out.
Trace's hands were caressing wherever he could touch. They were underneath my shirt, brushing against the sensitive skin of my chest, down my stomach, teasing my waistband and making me weak with desire.   Soon Trace was inching down my boxers like they were a minor inconvenience and my body felt ready to do whatever he wanted to do with me. Then his hands were low on my hips and I forgot how to kiss him back properly.
"It's okay," he said softly, kissing my neck, "just relax. Let me take care of you, baby."
"But, I'm supposed to—oh God— I'm supposed to—" I was supposed to reciprocate, and touch him back and tell him I'd always found him beautiful and that his accident didn't define him. But my thoughts scattered until I was barely able to say anything at all.
Trace kissed me, his hands still performing their magic as I groaned into his mouth. I arched into his touch and it was so good.
"You're taking care of me, too. Don't worry." He said it quickly, before leaning down and nibbling on my ear, and that's when I lost it. The feel of his body on mine, my lobe caught between his teeth and his hands on such a hot part of me were too much.
I let out a loud yell, and Trace kissed my sweaty forehead and then my temple. "I love you," I said between one pant and the next.
Trace sounded self satisfied. "I know, baby, I love you, too."  He leaned over and pulled out a box of wipes from the bedside drawer and then started to wipe me down slowly, taking his time. "You're so perfect, Darius. I'm going to make it my job to treat you, right. Okay?"
I nodded silently as Trace cleaned me up and kissed my forehead.
When he was done he curled around my body, throwing his leg over my hip. He was still dressed as I lay there naked.
"What about you?" I asked Trace, wondering why he was still dressed. I'd finished embarrassingly fast and I still needed to return the favour somehow.
"I'm good," he murmured, "and I want you to stay like this. Naked. In my bed."
That made me smile. Trace's possessive streak was seriously hot but, more than anything, it was also endearing. I knew a part of Trace thought that I was completely his and I was fine with that. He could boss me around forever if he wanted to.
We fell asleep wrapped up in each other and though it had been a difficult night I was glad me and Trace had still shared some special moments.
#
At some point in the night I woke up to Trace coming back from the bathroom. He was a slow shadow in the dark with his crutch as he made his way to our bed. Trace sat gingerly on the bed before placing his crutch in a crook between his bed side table and the wall.
I reached for him in the dark and kissed his cheek. Trace laughed quietly and made a small note of surprise before he moved his mouth over to mine and started to kiss me hungrily. His hands didn't wander but after the kiss he kissed me on forehead.
"Go back to sleep, baby," Trace said quietly, "you know I like kissing your face off but if we keep going I won't be able to sleep." His tone was suggestive yet teasing.
But, I remembered how there were things I wanted to say earlier before we got..busy. I counted to ten in my mind and took a big breath. I cupped Trace's face and leaned my forehead against his for a long moment.
"I really really like you," I said quietly, stroking my thumbs over his temples. "I think you're amazing, Trace and— I know these are just words but you're not ugly, okay? Your leg isn't ugly, your body isn't ugly, you're not ugly. You were in a terrible accident that changed the way you go through life but that doesn't change the fact I love you. And I'll always be here for you. I can be a shoulder to lean on, or someone you can cry to or someone to laugh with because you deserve that. Just because we're in a relationship and we have sex doesn't mean I can't be available to you emotionally, too. Alright, sweetheart?"
Trace was really quiet before I heard him start sniffling. "You're too good to me, Darius. You're so sweet."
"I'm not—" I was so startled by how emotional Trace sounded I stuttered badly.
Trace let out a watery laugh and hugged me. "You don't get to argue with me when I call you sweet, okay?"
"I guess," I said reluctantly, but I hugged him back and it was kind of perfect how he fit so well in my arms. He was smaller than me, built muscular yet lithe and he always smelled so good. The hug lasted a while and Trace was the first one to lean back.
The only light in the room was the soft bed side lamp I'd turned on when I realized Trace was awake. Now, the light gave his face a soft glow that made him seem young and tired at the same time. But then I saw his lips quirk and some mischief light his eyes up.
"Let's go on a date sometime after I get my new leg? I want to take you out and spoil you." He put his hand on my thigh and stroked very slowly. The casual tenor of his voice was at odds his hand stroking my thigh.
I flushed. "Trace, it's really okay," I said. But I'd grown used to Trace spoiling me, as he called it, and I really did like it.
He kissed me on the cheek. "No arguing, okay?"
I laughed and then I sighed. "Okay."
"One day I'm going to ask you a really big question," Trace said quietly, just staring at me intently. "Not anytime soon but it's going to happen. Are you okay with that?"
I swallowed loudly. "Uhm—well—I— What?! Are you talking about marria-"
Trace kissed me on the cheek again and I felt like I was going to disintegrate into a thousand pieces. "Baby, you're cute but take a breath."
So, I took a breath. "Maybe I don't know what you're talking about but if you mean...the M word...I want to have it at a garden...some day."
Trace grinned for a brief moment and then he let out a warm laugh. "Yeah?" he murmured, "and what else?"
"I'd want it to be small...just friends and family. And I know that I would want Manny as my best man but I hope my brother would understand..."
"You can have two best men at our wedding, Darius. You can have whatever you want."
I scoffed. "We're just talking about a hypothetical situation...it's not like you're seriously considering getting m-m-married to me."
"That time you were drunk you said you'd want to marry me when you're thirty. So we have a couple more years to go, don't we?"
I frowned, feeling my face heat up. "I said that?"
Trace chuckled. "Yeah, I mean, I knew you were drunk but I hope you meant it. I do want to get married some day and it's not something I want to spring on you either. It'll take a lot of planning and I know you're not a surprise kind of guy."
I nodded. "I know it sounds less romantic if we talk about it first..."
"No, Darius, it doesn't. Just because it's not a surprise doesn't mean it's not romantic. You respect me and value you me and love me. And I love you, too. Of course I would want to spend the rest of my life with you."
My eyes pricked. "Are you sure? I mean, what if you change your mind? Or, you stop lov—"
Trace shook his head.  "No."
"Huh?"
"That won't happen."
"But how can you know that?" My breaths started coming fast. "What if you spontaneously lose your memory and you forget everything we did together and who I am?"
"I'll fall in love with you all over again, Darius." His voice was soft but there was an edge of steel to it, like he dared me not to believe him. But he sounded so certain it felt impossible and stupid to argue.
"Oh," was all I managed to say.
"Tomorrow we're going to have a 'Darius day,'" Trace said abruptly.
"A what?"
"A day just for you. I'll come over and we can do all the things you like to do. We'll work on that puzzle, watch some movies and just chill."
Suddenly I felt emotional and close to tears. I sniffled. "Okay, but I was supposed to be there for you today. And I felt like I just got in the way."
Trace sighed. "I have PTSD, okay? Sometimes, my brain is a soup of anger and sadness and loss and flashbacks. Sometimes I'll be like this when it comes to my leg because it still takes a lot for me to accept the fact I'm an amputee since I wasn't born like this and I was in a fucked up accident. But just because I'm not talkative or I'm upset doesn't mean I don't enjoy your company. Even if I didn't do a lot of the talking today I'm really thankful you came over and cooked for me and just—stayed with me. That was really thoughtful of you, Darius, and it means a lot." Trace surprised me with a hug, squeezing me for a long time.
Then he yawned. "Oh fuck, sorry. I haven't slept in like two days and I feel exhausted. Let's sleep."
We cuddled together and Trace surprised me by falling asleep in minutes. He looked a lot better than he had at the beginning of the evening and I went to sleep satisfied in feeling that I helped at least a little bit.