Page 8 of Love Language

Feeling better? Marco signed. But instead of signing on his own body, he signed on Greg’s, lightly touching Greg’s chest for FEEL and Greg’s chin for BETTER.

No one had done that since Greg was a child, reading books with his parents. It was intimate in a way he’d never experienced before.

He could only see Marco’s facial expressions out of the corner of his eye. Expressions were a huge part of ASL communication so he wouldn’t catch everything, but it felt right for the moment. Like they were in a little bubble away from the rest of the world.

I feel…, he signed, using the same space in front of his body that Marco had. I don’t know if I feel better. He stopped to consider. I feel sad, but I think I needed to do that. It was time.

Greg turned just enough to look Marco in the eye. Thank you, he said, putting all his gratitude into his eyes.

Marco smiled at him, and it felt like a lighthouse in the storm. Things were rough, but there was a way through.

Do you want to talk more about it?

Greg gave himself a moment to just feel. I think I would like that. If you don’t mind.

I’m happy to be here for you. Tell me about your Sir.

It was strange and intimate having Marco signthe word for Dom in front of his chest. But not having to look at him while he signed, yet still being so close, made it easier for him to share.

I met him when I was twenty-five. Probably your age.

Marco snorted and he felt it through his body. I’m thirty-six. I just look young.

No way!

I’ll explain later. Right now, tell me about your Dom.

Greg settled in. He told Marco the story of how they’d met when Richard was writing in his notebook at a coffee shop where he’d been a barista paying his way through grad school. They’d moved in together just months later and gotten married as soon as it was legal.

They’d both worked full time, but when they were at home they were mostly in their roles. Not quite 24/7, but they slipped in and out of the dynamic easily. When his Sir was gone, he’d felt unmoored.

He’d dated only two people before Sir, and no one since.

Do you want to date again? Marco asked.

I thought I never would. Greg sighed. I really thought I’d never be interested in anyone again. For a long time, I couldn’t even think about sex or relationships or anything like that without feeling miserable.

Marco waited, not commenting.

But last week… Greg wasn’t sure if he could say it. He was glad that he couldn’t see Marco’s face and Marco couldn’t see his. I watched porn again.

How did you feel about it? It felt like such an armchair psychologist question, but Greg was just glad that there wasn’t any judgment.

Good? Terrible? I don’t know. I got off. He laughed mirthlessly.

It’s OK to feel confused.

I’ve been telling myself that. I didn’t want to think about anyone else ever again, but now…

I mean, I still miss him, but I hate being alone, too. I don’t think he would want me to be alone. I know that I’m too old to be anyone’s sub, he continued, but I’m not sure that I can do this by myself.

Marco pressed his cheek into Greg’s, comforting him. You’re not too old to be someone’s sub, he signed emphatically.

Greg gestured down at himself. Do you see me? I’m old. I’m fat. I’m going bald. I’m going to be fifty this year. I’ve been in a relationship with one person my whole life and I don’t even know how to be with someone else, even if someone would want me.

Marco shook his head, pressing gently into Greg as he did. You’re not old or fat. You’re handsome. Strong. Distinguished.

That’s not true. And even if it was, that’s not what anyone wants in a sub. That’s how Doms are supposed to look.