Lion's Lair - 10. "Life Doesn't Have to be Perfect ..."

Ryan’s so … relaxed … when he sleeps.

I’m back in bed after getting up to pee. I had to disentangling myself from him after a great lovemaking session a couple of hours ago. Now, I’m just lying beside him, watching him.

Lovemaking fits. You need to tell him how you feel. It’s time.

He’s currently on his back, one arm thrown behind his head under the pillow, sheet pulled to his waist. His deep breathing is bordering on a snore, his lightly-furred chest rhythmically rising and falling.

He really does look like a Nebraska teenager; not a care in the world.

It’s a subtle but real difference from his day-to-day appearance. He’s very much a driven man, even if he’d be loath to admit it. He’s always got his goals, moves forward toward them, and really doesn’t even seem to be aware he’s set them. He just moves forward with a “take no prisoners approach”. And it’s served him well.

Ryan’s twitching a little now. Hand a little jerky, head slowly tossing from side to side. He’s obviously dreaming. A few indistinct sounds are barely audible, but there. A bead of sweat has broken out on his forehead.

I wonder what he’s dreaming.

But there are a couple of things Ryan and I need to talk about. And really hadn’t been aware of them before. First is the emotional wall he’s built.

I’d not realized that was there to the extent it was. When Ryan talked about his day, and his frustrations of first walking then realizing that’s not going to happen for a while, he struggled to maintain his composure. It took all his energy just to complete his sentences, and he spent half the time when telling what happened not looking at me. It’s almost like he was embarrassed to share how deeply it hurt to put his dream of walking on hold.

It’s probably been there from his childhood—he’s probably just like me, taught from an early age that men don’t cry. What a crock. It took me years to recognize how much I’d deprived myself of the massive highs of joy I’d missed simply because I’d locked myself into an emotional box. Sure, there were sometimes occasional lows, too, but being more free emotionally allowed me to quickly work past those.

Well, quickly, other than Alex. It took a while to work past the sadness after his death, but at least I could recognize him later as an integral part of who I am, even though he’s gone. And it let me not compare any potential partner to him—that part thanks to Barry at the bar, who crystalized the danger of making a lost lover a saint that no one else can measure up to. Wise words. I’d always instinctively known that, but his phrasing really clarified that for me.

Maybe one day he’ll be open with me. Maybe one day I can be fully open with him.

The other thing is ….

Ryan does a fully body jerk, awaking with a start, eyes darting around the room until they settle on me, my head propped up on one arm by the elbow, lying on my side, looking at him.

“Hi,” he says with a smile. “I was dreaming; hope I didn’t wake ya.” Ryan’s voice is a gravelly whisper from the sleep and sexy as hell.

“Not at all. I had to go pee, and since then I’ve been enjoying the view.”

Ryan grins as he stretches. “Not that much to look at.”

“Trust me, the view is great.”

There’s a moment of warmly-intimate silence before Ryan speaks again. Ryan leans up to give me a quick but hot kiss, and he’s now turned on his side, propping his head on his hand, a mirror image of me. There’s a long pause before he speaks again.

“Thanks for hosting me here for dinner last night. I’ve enjoyed myself.”

“Ryan, trust me, it’s my pleasure. I’m kind of funny about having people in. I’ve always viewed my home as an extension of me, and getting to know me even better. I know that sounds strange, but I really want to get to know you even better, and you to get to know me, too.”

More silence as Ryan processes that. Finally, he speaks, this time in a quiet, uncertain tone.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough to get you off when we were playing. It’s been so long, I guess I’ve ….” Ryan’s obviously embarrassed or guilty or something as he says it. He’ll look at me for a moment then look away.

“What are you talking about? I had a great time!”

“Really? Seriously? Hell, I wasn’t even good enough to get you hard. I really wanted you to fuck me, but either I wasn’t good enough, or you just aren’t really that into me.” Ryan’s now back to looking at me, searching my face for what may come next. He’s got a stony look on his face, as though he’s expecting a nasty revelation and is trying to protect himself from the hurt.

“Bullshit.” I grin, knowing how my profanity always catches him off guard. “I loved it all. I really enjoyed working on you, exploring your body, making sure you got off. Couldn’t ask for a nicer time.”

“Yeah, but you really only kinda chubbed up, never really fully hard. I guess I’m not enough for you to ….”

“Ryan, stop this insanity right now. You gotta learn to trust me; I love you too much to lie to you.”

Damnation—not the way I wanted to deliver the L-word.

“Look, here’s the situation. I’m older than you; sometimes the body responds the way you’d like, other times it doesn’t. What it doesn’t mean is that I’m not having fun. You’ve heard the old line of the spirit being willing, but having weak flesh? Well, that’s the case. My emotions were definitely into it all, just that the body had its own schedule. It’s not a failing on your part, or on mine; it’s just the way it is, and I’m ok with that. But you need to believe me, I definitely enjoyed myself.”

I can see Ryan’s skeptical and his next words confirm that. “You sure?”

A light laugh from me gives him confirmation. “Of course I’m sure. It’s just the way it works—or in this case, doesn’t work—sometimes. Not an issue. You got that, Marine?”

He smiles; I guess my continued explanation finally got through to him.

“Look, Ryan, I learned a long time ago that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful. And our lovemaking was wonderful, even if it may not have been perfect by other standards.”

There’s that L-word again.

“The other part of that, Ryan, is that you’ve got to learn to relax with me. I really liked taking my time exploring your body, but at one point, you pulled away from me—or at least tried to. I kept going, and you seemed to finally relax enough to enjoy it. You need to understand that I want you for you. I don’t want you holding back anything with me.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan’s squirming a little; I’ve obviously touched a nerve. “It’s just that … well, I know I’m not like other guys …“ at this point he looks down toward what’s left of his legs, “… and it’s not what most guys want. Plus, the scars are ugly, and I’m just not the man I was.” There’s a deep sadness there as he says it. Maybe a touch of bitterness, too. I didn’t realize how deep his poor self-image ran; he’s covered it up well all the other times we’ve been around each other.

“Ryan, you’ve gotta get over that. I look at you, and I see a vibrant man with all the best attributes I could want in a guy. You aren’t ‘handicapped’ in my view at all. Yeah, there are some physical things that you’ve had to learn to work past, but you’ve done great with that. I don’t see you as missing anything. In fact, you’ve got a lot more—the drive, the determination to move on with your life makes you one of the strongest men I’ve ever known.”

There’s another long pause in the conversation. In the deep shadows of almost darkness, only the light from the pier lights along the bayou and the soft lighting from the always on LED light in the bath cast occasional splashes of lighter tones. I can see Ryan turn his face downward, looking toward what’s left of his legs. The mostly darkness has at least allowed the conversation to be intimate, and comfortable enough for such an intense conversation.

He draws a deep ragged breath before speaking again. Yes, his emotions are high.

“You really do feel that way, don’t you, Clayton. You really don’t see me as someone you have to ‘settle” for?”

“Not at all. I love the man you are.”

Damn. Three times for the L-word.

There’s another long break before Ryan speaks again. This time, his voice is colored with both hope and a little humor.

“Third time’s the charm, Clayton.”

“ … what?”

He caught it.

“Three times you’ve used ‘love’. First time was when you’d said you loved me too much to lie to me. Second time was when you talked about the sex, referring to it as ‘lovemaking’. Third time was just now when you said you loved the man I am. You trying to tell me something?” Ryan’s got a maniacal grin and his eyes are twinkling, just like an eager cub, eyeing another, ready for play.

“Ok, ok, smartass. This isn’t exactly the way I meant to bring it up, but yes—I love you, and yes, I’m in love with you. You’ve grown into someone I think about first. And all the time. You’re a great man with a big heart, smart, good-looking. The total package. So, ok, I admit it; I’m crazy about you.”

Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Ryan leans in for a long kiss, tongue included, making me—and him—breathless.

“Ok, my turn now.” He goes back to the head propped on hand, elbow on mattress. “Look, this is tough for me. I’ve never really had to be open with my feelings or anything. So bear with me, ok?”

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you, too. I’ve known it for a while now, and really didn’t know exactly how to say it—but I hope it’s come through. Hell, part of the reason I was so disappointed about not getting the legs was that I had this crazy idea that I’d just jump right into ‘em, and then meet you at the door tonight with ‘em as a surprise.”

“What?! Ryan, you know better; there’s got to be an adjustment period and therapy with them, right?”

“Oh, I know, it was unrealistic—but it was something I wanted to do as much for you as for me. Hell, I’d told Joe about it at his place last weekend, and I was trying to keep it a secret from you. You’ve always been supportive, letting me do my own thing with the chair, but I’ve always known you were right there, quietly watching my six. And that means a lot to me.

“Look, I’ve never felt more secure with anyone. You’re a damn fine-looking man. And you’re smart. And sexy. You’ve got a bunch of skills I only wish I had. And it’s all with a giving heart. So, yeah. I love you, too. But you’ll hafta put up with me—this is all new, and I’m still learning how to share all this shit, ok?”

Wow. Just … wow.

I lean in and kiss him maybe like I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’m overwhelmed with the flood of emotions—above all, a “rightness” about all of this. It’s like coming home.

“I understand, Ryan, and I’m right there with you. I’ve been alone for so long, I’ve kind of forgotten how to really be open on a lot of things. We all have a past, and things we aren’t always comfortable with. I promise I’ll try to be as open with you as I can be. And yeah, I still have a part of my background I’m not comfortable in talking about—but just know I’m almost there, and hang in there with me.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re a serial killer or something?” Ryan chortles as he says it, his good-natured joking side coming into play.

“No, I’m no serial killer or anything like that, smartass. But keep kidding me like that, I may make that your nickname. ‘Smartass’ kind of fits you.” My teasing back has Ryan grinning in the dark, and is a nice touch to the heavy conversation we’ve been having. “No, it’s not that big a deal, I just want to get comfortable with you and me first. My priority is the here and now, not the past. But I’ll fill you in later, ok?”

I lean in to kiss him again, which turns into another breathless kiss, and we transition into holding each other, hugged up close. I finally lie back, Ryan settling in with his head in the crook of my shoulder, his body lying up against my side.

“And I promise I’ll try to be as open with you as I can be, too. So where do we go from here, Clayton? Since I’ve never been in a relationship, I don’t really know comes next.”

“Well, it sounds like we both have some more work to do, just to get even more comfortable with each other. We’ll take that stuff as it develops, ok? In the meantime, I’m committing to you; you’ve always been my focus, and I’m not looking at anyone else, romantically or sexually. And, I want to be with you as much as you can handle. At some point, if you’re okay with it, I want you to think about moving in here—I like having you around, and can’t think of a better way to end the day than to come home to you. But, all in its own time. Right now, I want you to spend the night here. That’s a luxury I haven’t had in quite some time.”

Ryan snuggles in even closer to me. “You’ll set an alarm? I do need to get my ass to work and meet some customers first thing.”

“So that means you’re staying?”

“No, I just want you to set an alarm for the hell of it. Of course, I’ll stay. Breakfast is included, right? Plenty of coffee, too?”

“Smartass.”

We end up playing spoons—Ryan the little spoon, my arm under his head, my other arm thrown across his side, idly playing with his chest hair as his back settles against my chest.

I’ll tell him tomorrow about my lunch date with Ben on Friday. Based on what was said at Joe and Rex’s place on Sunday, something nasty is going on there, and I’m going to find out. I owe that much to my friend.

Right now, as sleep drifts in, I realize I’ve got what I haven’t had in a very long time—satisfaction.

Not a bad Wednesday at all.