Page 16 of Love Language

But sweeter, too.

Marco took his hand and guided him down the block to a clean, well-lit, but slightly run-down apartment building.

Holding another man’s hand was strange. Walking into another apartment was bizarre.

Like he was living in another dimension, where his life had taken another course.

Only it wasn’t another life, it was just his life, moving forward in a new direction.

Marco continued to hold his hand in the elevator. Not signing, just being there.

In the apartment, Marco led him to the couch and then pressed his shoulder gently until he sat. He flicked on a soft lamp which made his skin glow but left the rest of the room in darkness.

Without a word, Marco knelt and removed Greg’s shoes.

It was quiet. Peaceful. Nothing at all like the stormy intensity of a scene with Richard. If this was part of the scene. He wasn’t sure.

Marco sat down at the other end of the large couch, and for a moment Greg wished that he was closer. As though reading his mind, Marco leaned forward and hooked Greg’s calf upward, turning him so that they were facing each other and Greg’s feet were nestled in Marco’s lap.

He was just so different from Richard. Marco was encouraging him to settle into his melancholy instead of trying to pull him out.

It felt a little like Greg could be a different person, too.

Marco began massaging his feet. It felt luxurious. Decadent. Greg leaned back and closed his eyes, giving in for a moment to the sensation.

He got the feeling, though, that Marco was waiting for him to talk.

He didn’t know what to say.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Marco was still watching him, a small smile on his face as though he was enjoying the massage himself. The mellow glow of the lamp highlighted the bronzed shine of Marco’s cheeks, the faint touch of color on his eyelashes.

He was beautiful.

But also, he was strong. Not just physically, though Greg couldn’t help but notice his muscular arms. He was strong in himself. Confident. Aware of himself and where he could take control in their interactions.

It reminded Greg a bit of what Marco had said earlier. That he was confident enough in his masculinity that he could play with being a bit feminine.

This was similar, like he was confident enough in his dominance that he could be a bit tender. He could be quiet and kind while still taking control when Greg needed it.

Greg watched Marco watching him, his eyes soft and thoughtful. It was like they were sharing some sort of secret language.

Slowly, Greg felt himself dropping back into his body. The glass plate separating him from the world slowly disintegrated, and he blinked as though just waking up.

Marco gave him an easy smile, then switched his attention to Greg’s other foot.

I’m sorry, Greg started.

Marco gave the softest shake of his head, as though denying the need for the apology, but not wanting to interrupt. He didn’t lift his hands from their work to reply.

I sometimes… go away from myself.

Marco gave only the faintest nod, acknowledging without judging.

I miss Richard, he fingerspelled his name to accompany his name sign, realizing that he hadn’t before. And I wasn’t sure if I could do this.

Marco gave him an encouraging smile, his fingers digging into pressure points that Greg hadn’t even realized were there. The massage was divine.

I feel like I’m betraying him. But I also know that he wouldn’t want me to be alone. And… I want this. I miss being with someone.