“I’m sorry I made you upset. We can skip talking about it. Let’s not ruin the day.”
It was too late.
“Please? I don’t understand why you’re upset with me over this, and you’re scaring me, Gryphen.”
At his words, he tried to articulate his feelings like they promised they’d do.
“It hurts me,” he said. “When you say those things about yourself, it makes my heart hurt.”
He was so confused.
It didn’t hurt him, so he didn’t understand why Gryphen was taking it personally. It wasn’t like he was saying he was a troll. Ian just knew that Gryphen was way hotter than he’d ever be.
Men like him were the epitome of masculinity.
Men like him…
Not so much.
“Why?” Ian asked. “Explain to me then.”
“Because you’re perfect for me. When we stand together, we fit like two pieces. You fit against my body. You’re so smart, and you think things through like I don’t. You’ve taught me so much about myself, that I can feel safe in my own skin and be genuine. I’m not afraid to say I’m gay, because I have someone who loves all of me.”
Ian listened.
“You have a big heart, and you’re sweet. You lay out my clothing for me, and you aren’t sickened that I’m damaged as a human being. My loss of leg doesn’t bother you. You see it as just the norm when you could have a whole man.”
Ian stopped him.
Oh, well, now he understood why he was pissed because Ian was on his way to Angry-ville now too.
“You’re angry at me for saying how I see myself, but did you just listen to yourself, Gryph? You said you weren’t whole. Says who? I’m just grateful you came back alive. Had you not, I wouldn’t have you.”
“You need me,” he whispered. “That’s what keeps me whole. You need me, and that makes you my perfect mate. If you’re not perfect, that means what we have isn’t perfect. That we could be wrong, and this isn’t what we both think it is terrifies me.”
Ian left kisses on his slick shoulders.
And now he got it.
Gryphen kept going.
“I prefer a man who’s smart. That’s my type. I like someone who’s professional, and put himself out there in the world being brave. Please don’t put yourself down. If you’re saying we’re not equals, that means we won’t work, and I’m betting everything on this. I’m betting it all on you, Ian. I need this to work, or I won’t survive. You were meant to be mine because we’re perfect together.”
Because he understood what had Gryphen so upset, he offered him something to heal that wound he’d created.
“You’re right. I can handle a mean spreadsheet,” he said, “and I like organizing things.”
Gryphen turned and put his hand over his on his chest to connect them.
Ian wasn’t done.
“I have fantastic tastes in music, and wine. When I have to throw a party, no one can compare,” he said, complimenting himself so Gryphen would calm down.
He liked how Ian understood.
“No one makes a bed like me. Oh, and no one messes one up like me either,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
It made Gryphen laugh.