Page 53 of Stag

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly, directing my fingers under the water, as I slowly realised what had him so out of sorts.

“Stag… did you come?”

He nodded, his shoulders sagging. “I tried not to, but you looked so fucking sexy when you came, and I… I got it all over you.”

I glanced down, watching the water sluicing away his release. I hadn’t realised, because the water was so hot and somehow we’d moved out of it when things were happening, but he truly looked like he’d failed me because of it.

“Stag, it’s okay. It’s good. I wanted you to come. It was the whole point.”

He poured soap into his hand and started washing my stomach and legs, like he was horrified at the fact that he came on me.

I caught his hands and waited until he was looking at me, because even though he’d hear me, I needed to see my words land. To know he got it.

“I like the idea of you coming on me. It’s sexy. You get that, right?”

“Not really. I think we need to talk about this stuff, but after we’re showered.”

“Fine, okay. Let’s get out.”

We moved efficiently, Stag switching off the water and passing me the first towel, before he focused on drying himself. His moves were sharp, almost aggressive, like he was mad at himself for something, and I had no idea what was going on in his head right now. I really hoped he was about to tell me, because my imagination was offering suggestions that were freaking me out. What if he didn’t like me, or my body? What if he was humouring me? What if he felt like I was pushing him into things he didn’t want? What if he wanted to stop exploring his sexuality with me?

The time it took to get dry, dressed, brush our teeth, and get downstairs with our lukewarm coffees, seemed like forever, but it was probably only ten minutes. Stag found a pack of chocolate biscuits in the cupboard and set them in front of me as we both sat, staring for a moment at each other, like we didn’t know where to start. Maybe I could make this easier for him.

“Do you like me, Stag? Enough to be doing things with me? I don’t want to force you into anything.”

His jaw dropped, and he rubbed a hand over his face, falling back against the seat back as he kept his eyes on mine.

“That’s not the problem, Claudia. I really like you. More than like. I’m getting in too deep here, I’m feeling stuff I shouldn’t, and I don’t want to make assumptions here.”

Oh. I opened my mouth but he shook his head.

“The words part is where I fuck everything up. I get things wrong. I say things wrong. I mean to say one thing, and it comes out meaning something else, and I offend people. You’re the last person I ever want to upset or offend with my words. Hell, I thought you not hearing me would mean I couldn’t, but I get that I was dumb for thinking that. It still all comes down to communication, and that’s where I fuck up.”

Oh the poor man. No wonder he was struggling with all of this. We were essentially skipping the communication stage, probably for more than the reason of my hearing loss, and it was leaving him insecure, or confused.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking?”

He nodded vigorously, waving a hand at me to continue.

“Please. I need complete openness here, even if it fucking destroys me. I can’t be getting this wrong. Not with you. Never you.”

I smiled and reached for his hand, something he gave instantly, without thinking or consideration. Without confusion or fear. Maybe the physical side was easier in that way. He didn’t have to think, just feel. I could see that relying on that side of things was leaving him overthinking everything though.

“I like you, Stag. Really like you. I don’t do these things with men I don’t like. I don’t move in with a man because I just feel like it, but I also didn’t move in with you out of necessity. Do you get that? It was a choice. A choice I made because I want to be with you. You make me smile. You make me laugh, and you make me feel safe. You make me feel protected, but not in the intrusive way she was. This doesn’t mean I’m using you or anything. Just that I chose you, when I could have gone back home to my parents, or found somewhere else to live. Being with you makes me feel like I’m not missing a sense, because you’re filling up the quieter parts of my life. I like that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fuck me. She was holding nothing back, and it was a fucking relief, because I wanted to hear these things, but I also needed to hear them. Not assume them. Not wonder about them. If there’s one thing I learned from TV and movies, it’s that communication is fucking everything, and since that’s my biggest failing, it’s why it scares me the most.

“Stag?”

I nodded, knowing that I had to try and do this. To get it right. To not fuck up or upset her. Not offend her. Not break this thing we were building, because it felt like the most important thing that had ever happened to me, and I couldn’t lose it. Not now. Not ever.

“Uh… I guess being chosen is something I’m not used to. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that you had other options, and still picked me. I get that it’s not a long term promise or anything, but I’m so fucking relieved you gave me a chance.”

I’m already sounding like a pussy here, but I don’t know any other way to say this stuff.

“Being a virgin at my age is fucking embarrassing. It’s not like I’m a leper or something, but I’m not an easy person to be around, I get that. The guys give me shit for it all the time. The amount of times I’ve pissed them off, or offended their women or something. I don’t mean to. I guess I think I’m being funny or whatever, but they take it… I guess I always thought of it as them taking it the wrong way, like not how I mean, but maybe I just said it the wrong way every damn time.”