Page 37 of Fibre and Ink

“And we had some trouble. Not at the start. To begin with it was awesome, all kinds of fun... The sex, I mean. We had great sex to start with, when it was all new and exciting. But as we got comfortable together, he stopped talking to me and I stopped... wanting...” Mickey sighed.

This was obviously really hard for him to talk about. I bit my lip, and patted his thigh. “It’s okay. I won’t judge, no matter what you say.”

Mickey laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I lost interest. I didn’t want to have sex with him. He was really angry about it. We fought all the time. He said that because we were together he should get sex on tap, basically. He always insisted on topping and I didn’t... I didn’t want it from him, you know? And he wasn’t happy with anything else. I guess there’s something wrong with me, because I know the young gay men stereotype is meant to be wanting all the sex all the time. But I just...don’t? Pete hated it. I think he hated me by the end. Said I was broken and he couldn’t be with anyone like me.”

Mickey took a ragged breath in.

We were almost to Hartsville. What he’d said had sparked an idea. I had to get it out quick.

“First off, Mickey, you’re not broken. It’s totally okay to want sex or not want it, that isn’t a personality flaw or an issue at all, for me.” I added the ‘for me’ selfishly, because I’m a selfish twink who wants his man. “But what you’re describing, it sounds like you’re demisexual in some way.”

“Demi?” Mickey’s tone made it clear he’d never heard the world.

“Yeah, um, really quickly, it means for you, you need certain conditions met to feel a sexual connectiont to someone. You need to know them really well maybe, or have a genuine connection throughout the day in order to want it at night. It’s actually really common, people just don’t have the language to describe it usually. For some it means absolutely no sexual attraction until you have a deep connection, for some it fluctuates. So, yeah.” I paused to take a long overdue breath. “You’re not broken Mickey. This Pete guy sounds like an asshole for saying that.”

Mickey pulled the truck into a park by the Hartsville mall and killed the engine. He took another deep breath and looked at me, his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes misty.

“Really?”

My heart ached. I wanted to slide towards him on the bench seat and wrap him in my arms, but first I had to drive this point home.

“Really, Mick. You are not broken, and your ex was a complete tool for saying that to you. Seriously, it’s fucked up. Like the guys who want to be with me because I look like a guy but I still have a vagina. It’s fucked.”

Mickey blinked the tears back and took another breath. “There are guys like that?”

“Yes, but this is about you.” I did slide closer then and took his hand in mine. “Mickey, you’re not weird or broken or anything. You’re just demi.”

Mickey hiccuped and wrapped his arms around me. The steering wheel poked into my side but I didn’t care. I hugged him tight, letting him feel whatever it was he needed to feel.

He sniffled against my shoulder and my heart went all gooey.

“You’re okay, Mick. You’re fine. You’re such a good man. You have the best heart of anyone I know.”

After a minute, Mickey nodded and pulled back, wiping his eyes and swallowing. “I guess I have some reading to do, huh?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, there’s some good books around. Or chat rooms or whatever.”

“Thanks, Aster. Sorry for kinda springing that on you, but... I wanted you to know. It felt wrong keeping it all bottled up.”

“I can’t imagine. You’ve been feeling this way since he left?”

Mickey nodded. And I made a mental note to track down this Pete online and sign him up for some shitty mailing lists. “I hate Pete.”

Mickey chuckled. “Yeah. I think I do, too.”

We slid out of the truck and went about our errands. I got my posters and Mickey bought some new socks and undershirts. It reminded me of Dillon bringing me to Hartsville for guy clothes when I first came out. We wandered around the mall together with the tension between us broken. Pointing out things that made me laugh and impulse buying a shirt at Hot Topic was fun.

The air was cleared for the most part. I’d casually mentioned my bad experiences, but I don’t know how much I needed to go into with Mickey. Our age gap, and what would Harlow think, seemed to be the biggest obstacles, now.

Well, and Mickey hadn’t actually said he was into me... But why would he tell me all that if he wasn’t?

Surely it meant he wanted to take things further?

I didn’t want to dwell on it. I wanted to enjoy this outing.

We ate at the mall food court, planning to come back to experience the Rainforest Cafe together in a few nights, once we’d had the protest.

We were quiet on the way back, Mickey smiling and humming along to some Johnny Cash on the radio.