Changing the Mirage
Chapter 10"Uh, you wear me out," Taylor moaned collapsing down on the bed beside Shane.
"Technically, I think you wore me out considering the position," he nudged his shoulder lightly.
"Mmm," Taylor smiled happily up at the ceiling before closing his eyes.
"Although," Shane turned on his side to face Taylor. "I would love the opportunity to wear you out. You know, in another position," he ran his fingers lightly through Taylor’s hair.
"I think I wear me out enough for the both of us."
"Taylor,"
"Hmmm?"
"You know what I’m talking about," and he did. It was something he had been avoiding since they’d taken their physical relationship to the next level. But it was also a topic and position he’d tried and, until now, successfully avoided at all costs.
"I…don’t…like it," he spoke slowly.
"I do," he replied back matter-a-factly.
"And I don’t,"
"I realize you’ve gotten in your head that this relationship is all about you…and maybe because I’ve given you that impression but there is another person who would like some of their needs met every once in awhile."
"I think that classifies as a want versus a need."
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he rubbed his forehead in frustration.
"Shane, I don’t like bottoming," he made air quotes. "I have my reasons for not wanting to do that."
"Look Tay," he flung the covers off of him and removed himself from the bed. "I love you. But eventually you have to put your bullshit and fears aside and trust me. Me. Shane."
"I do trust you."
"Clearly not enough," he pulled his boxers and headed for the door.
"Do…do I need to leave?" Taylor questioned before he left the room.
"No, you don’t. I’m leaving."
"Where are you going?"
"Out," he angrily snatched his pants and shirt from the floor before leaving the room. A few minutes later, Taylor heard the front door open and slam shut. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but what he did know was that it wasn’t good; for him or his relationship with Shane.
~~~
Shane quietly let himself back into his apartment. He wasn’t sure if Taylor was still there or not, but if he was he knew he would most likely be asleep. It was late; very late. He hadn’t meant to stay out that long, but he just needed some time to clear his head and allow his anger to subside before talking to him again. And although he wasn’t sure either had happened while he was out, he didn’t want to cause Taylor any unnecessary worry by staying out all night. He was angry but he tried not to allow it to make him vindictive.
As soon as he entered the living room, he was startled when a lamp on one of the tables was turned on.
"Shit, Tay," he placed his hand on his heart.
"Hey," he spoke through squinted eyes.
"What are you still doing awake?"
"I didn’t want to sleep until you got home. Not that I would have been able to sleep anyway…"
"Sorry, I needed to clear my head."
"It’s okay. It’s fine, but…I would like to talk. Please."
"Alright," he nodded, tossing his keys on the table.
"I’m very good at sticking my foot in my mouth."
"I’ve witnessed that a time or two."
"But what I’m not, is the world’s greatest communicator. I’m not good with dealing with stuff…my emotions and fears. And I’m definitely not good at sharing those things and why," he paused, letting his words sink in. When he motioned for him to continue, he did just that. "I do have an issue with that…being on the bottom."
"Okay, why?"
"It’s not important."
"So what was the point of the beginning of your little speech if you weren’t going to open up and let me in? Just to confirm my knowledge that you’re a shitty communicator. Thanks, but I already knew that." "S
hane-"
"Are you about to reconfirm my knowledge of a few more of your traits now…"
"No," he shook his head.
"Then tell me why."
"I…I just do."
"Tell me Taylor."
"He hurt me, okay?" he blurted out.
"What..." he paused, debating internally with himself as to whether he really wanted to ask or not. "What do you mean?" he questioned, the better part of his judgment winning the debate. "Did he…" he trailed off. Taylor looked over at him and could tell Shane feared the worst.
"He didn’t rape me, if that’s what you’re wondering," he ran his hand through his hair. "I was eighteen. He was thirty one, almost thirty two. I think he forgot what it was like to be young and gay and scared and…inexperienced."
"I’m sorry."
"He just kept telling me ‘relax, relax. It won’t feel good if you don’t relax’. Eventually he figured out he liked me topping better anyway. I just…don’t want to be hurt again. In any way," he added on in a whisper.
"Tay, I’m sorry he hurt you," he grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers. "But I want you to know I’m not him. I won’t hurt you; physically or otherwise. But you have to trust me…it requires you trusting me."
"Is this an ultimatum? Like a ‘do this or I’m gone’?"
"No, I won’t pressure you into this. But when you’re ready to see how good this can be; not just the physical, but every aspect of our relationship, I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere."
"I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you. I think I just have to start trusting myself fully first."
"Like I said, I’m not going anywhere," he smiled.
"Good. Don’t not tell me where you’re going again," he grabbed the back of his head and pulled him toward him. "Okay?" he pouted. "You had me worried."
"Okay," he nodded. He couldn’t help but return the smile that slowly crept across Taylor’s face. He leaned in and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
"Another thing?" Shane raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I love you too," Taylor smiled. "If you hadn’t stormed out like a girl I could have said it back to you earlier."
"I’m a girl now?" Shane chuckled before pressing their lips back together.