Page 31 of Simply Perfection
“That’s exactly the problem. I am conflicted. I feel as though my brain is pulling me one direction and my body another.”
Niall guided Trevor over the sofa. Niall sat first with his back to the armrest and stretched out his legs, opening them in invitation. Trevor sat between Niall’s legs. His back reclined against his smooth chest. The soft chenille fabric and thick cushions supported them comfortably. Trevor spread the blanket over him and Niall, then wiggled around until he found a comfortable spot.
Niall’s arms came around Trevor’s waist, beneath the blanket. “Better?”
“M’hm.”
“Good, now talk to me about this conflict.”
“It would probably be easier if I started at the beginning. How much did Matt tell you about my childhood?”
“He told me you’ve been on your own since you turned eighteen, and that your father left when you were very young, but that’s all.”
“Okay. So yeah, living alone since I became legal, but in reality I’ve been on my own since my dad walked out. He was a vet and suffered from what I now know to be PTSD, but as a little kid I couldn’t understand why dad would randomly fly off the handle or just as readily sit in his chair with a vacant expression for long periods of time. So one day, Dad left. I was sitting in the living room watching cartoons after school. He stood from his chair. Our eyes met for a few seconds, then he walked out the door. I never saw him again. My mom came home from work a few hours later and asked where my father was. When I told her he'd left, I guess she assumed he’d be back. I think something insideme, even at that age, realized when our eyes met things would never be the same.”
Trevor adjusted the blanket around him because he felt cold suddenly. Even Niall’s heat surrounding him couldn’t break thorough the barrier of ice over his skin.
Niall rubbed his hands over Trevor’s trembling body. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here. You’re safe now.”
“After that, I rarely ever saw my mom. We sold our house and moved into a one-bedroom apartment. My mom gave me the bedroom, and she slept on a pull-out sofa. She worked two jobs to keep up with the rent, so the scant hours she was home were mostly spent asleep. I was ten years old when I taught myself how to cook simple meals and do laundry. I tried to make things easier for her, but I knew how tired she was. Mom tried to be there for the important things like parent-teacher conferences and such, but I often ended up making her excuses.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? It wasn’t a bad childhood. She was never cruel or mistreated me. I learned how to be independent. If things had gone differently, I probably wouldn’t have had the tools to make myself into what I am today.”
“Do you ever talk to her?”
“I get postcards from time to time.”
“So that’s your past. For good or for bad, it’s shaped you into the man you are today. A man who is being pulled in two different directions. Matt would probably have some great meaningful insight into your dilemma. I don’t know the right thing to say, but I will listen, and give you guidance if you want it.”
“Honestly, I think I’d rather be here with you right now. Not that I don’t appreciate or care for Matt, but all that knowledge is a bit intimidating. If the two of us had to talk something out, would he be able to treat me as a partner or would he turn intoDr. Lincoln, psychiatrist extraordinaire? I don’t know if I can make a life with a man when I’m constantly wondering if he’s psychoanalyzing me. ”
“You say you’re intimidated by Matt’s education, but you’re hardly a simpleton.”
Trevor shrugged. “I like to read, but I don’t know how to analyze the words for hidden meanings or come up with any great insight that will change a person’s life.”
“So you’d rather cuddle in the dark and share confidences with a photographer than sit on the couch and dissect the inner workings of your mind with a psychiatrist?”
Trevor nodded. “Is that bad when the psychiatrist is also your lover?”
“No honey. Remember how I said that Matt may need to work harder than either of us at this relationship, because he knows how to read certain signs, but can’t act as our therapist or the balance of our relationship will topple?” Trevor nodded.
“Earlier tonight in bed, you struggled. I sensed your spirit warring with your body. Only when you stopped the clashing of those two forces did you find pleasure. Matt knew that. He got you out of your mind. He gave you what you needed. Matt’s not our therapist; he’s our partner. However, the two are not mutually exclusive. When you leave the crime lab, do the things you see and learn there evaporate from your mind?”
Trevor shook his head. He knew some of the things he saw on video or heard over the echo of a recording would haunt him till the end of his days. Other times, he laughed himself silly at the stupidity of criminals.
“In many ways, I never leave the studio either. I view the world most likely differently than others because I’m constantly thinking, how would that look through a lens, what filter would I use, what exposure setting? Our lives are building blocks madeup of our knowledge and experiences. If we take away one aspect of ourselves, we then change a fundamental part of our nature.”
Jesus, that was the longest Trevor had ever heard Niall speak. He’d had no idea the man was so deep. Trevor had assumed up to this point that Niall was the silent, sultry type. Dark, sexy and fun. However, in reality, Niall was a metaphysicist whose brain saw patterns a simple man was oblivious to, and had a deeper understanding of human nature than Trevor had previously thought he was even capable of.Just great.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Niall said, nuzzling his lips against Trevor’s temple.
“Thinking. We’ve gotten a bit off track.”
“Yeah, but I think it was an important detour. Now, tell me what had you so wired up earlier.”
“Downstairs. It’s like you said. My body wanted nothing more than for you to fuck me raw. I wanted the burn and pain, because that’s the only way I know how to silence the voices of my past. Voices that tell me I’ll never be sophisticated, I’ll never be as smart as others, I’ll never be more than what I am now. It’s weird; most of the time the voices don’t bother me. I’m okay with being me. I’ve worked damn hard to get here, and I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. But … but now and then…”
