Chapter Thirteen #2
“Fuck, K,” he moans, then sucks my lip into his wet, hot mouth, and now I’m the one who’s moaning.
Caleb’s hand wraps around the back of my neck, and he tilts my head so he can kiss me even deeper.
I follow his lead, thrusting my hips against him, and his thigh moves between mine.
The motion sends off a wave of ecstasy in my body, heat building in my core.
I used to hate how my body reacted when I got sexually aroused; the wetness pooling between my legs a reminder that my body worked differently from a cis guy’s.
It’s different after I started T. I don’t get wet anymore, but in a situation like this, where I’m aroused, my body still sometimes expects the wetness and remembers how it felt.
That sense of betrayal, and that urge to run from myself and break free from my physical form.
I try to push the feeling away, focusing on the kiss, on how Caleb’s lips feel pressed against mine, and how his tongue explores my mouth with such eagerness, but I can’t let go.
Something pulls at me, threatening to spin me out of control.
It’s not dysphoria exactly, but more of a constant awareness that I look different from what Caleb is used to when he’s with a guy.
As much as I’ve changed since I started this journey, there are still moments when my body betrays me, and I feel it happening right now.
Eventually, I pull away. Caleb blinks his eyes open, lust lingering in the gray. “What’s wrong? Too much?”
I nod, because yes, it was too much, but not in the way he probably thinks.
He smiles carefully, his eyes spilling over with kindness.
“I can go slower. Just tell me when to stop, and I’ll stop.
” He brushes his fingers through my hair.
“We’re in no hurry, baby. We’ll go at whatever pace you want.
” He hesitates, his fingers lingering on my earlobe, toying with my gold hoop.
“I just wanna be with you.” His honesty and vulnerable admission unlocks something inside me, something that’s vulnerable too.
Something that makes me feel inadequate and jealous of every cis guy in the fucking world.
“There are things that will be different about me.” The words are out there before I can regret them, and I bury my face against Caleb’s chest.
“I know.” He continues to caress my ear. “I know there are things about you that will be different from what I’m used to. Does that… Are you worried about that?”
“It’s just… Sometimes my mind still plays tricks on me.
Like I expect my body to react in a certain way, like remnants from a past life, and it’s frightening when you remember how your body used to react.
” There’s a war going on inside me right now because I don’t want to talk about this, but I know we need to.
Otherwise, Caleb and I are doomed before we can even begin.
He nudges me away from his shoulder, understanding in his eyes. “And that makes you feel like you’re in free fall.” It’s not a question, and somehow his words take away some of my fears.
“Yes.” My voice shakes as I blink back the tears threatening to fall.
“I get that. I do, Kayden. Not how it feels, but that you feel that way.” He pauses as he seems to mull something over. “Are you afraid of how I’m going to react to it? I mean that some things will be different?”
“Yes.” And then they do fall, the stupid, treacherous tears, because it’s like he sees right through me, behind all the layers and the thick walls I’ve erected around myself, and just sees me, the real me.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He swipes underneath my eyes with his thumbs, limitless tenderness in his voice. “Don’t cry. You’re safe here, with me.”
You’re safe.
“I know.”
“Do you? Do you really? Because you are. I promise that you are, K. I…” He hesitates, his hands still cradling my face, and it feels so good to be held like this, like he won’t allow me to hide or run. “I did some research. You know, about what to expect when being intimate with a trans guy.”
For a moment, I think my heart stops, or plummets into my gut. I feel slightly faint, but Caleb keeps caressing me with soothing movements, his eyes not leaving mine.
“I still have a shit ton of questions, but I think I have a better idea now of… of what you look like and what I need to be mindful of.” He presses a quick kiss against my lips.
I think I want to die. Just crawl into a hole in the ground and die, but I know I can’t. Not if I want to be with Caleb. Not if I ever want to have a real shot at living a full life with everything that entails. Trust and intimacy. Love.
“I don’t always trust my body and how it reacts to desire. It feels like this weird limbo sometimes, like a wave throwing me back and forth between how I used to be and how I am now.”
Caleb doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to continue. He doesn’t try to tell me that how I feel isn’t real, and in a way, that’s the best kind of validation he can give me right now.
“It’s hard sometimes to feel that I’m a real guy when my mind works against me.
It’s like it betrays me, and I’m stuck in the past, with the feeling of being wrong, which again triggers my dysphoria.
” I blush, because fuck my life, I can’t believe I’m actually having this conversation with Caleb.
“Because although I know I look different now from what I used to, I still wonder if it’s enough.
You know if it’ll be enough for another man, or if the things I can’t change will…
” My voice breaks, emotional exhaustion pulling at me.
“Yeah, I get that. You still have parts that I don’t. Like your…” He waits for me to choose what I want to call it, and gratitude explodes in my chest.
“My front hole. I call it my front hole because the V word makes me feel… I don’t know. Just not good.”
Caleb nods, then licks his lips. “Do you want me to call it that, too?” His bluntness surprises the fuck out of me, and he must notice because he studies me intently. “Sorry if I’m being too forward.”
“You’re not. It’s kind of nice, actually, that you don’t handle me with kids’ gloves like I’m fragile and could break any second.”
“I don’t see you like that at all, Kayden. I think you’re one of the strongest people I know. One of the bravest, too.”
“You do?”
He nods, and his words make me want to be brave and straightforward too. “What I’d really prefer is if we don’t talk about it. I mean my front hole. I really just want to forget it’s there.”
“Okay. I can definitely do that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I just really want you to feel good about yourself, baby. I really do. And if that’ll make you feel better about yourself, then that’s the least I can do.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Thank you for telling me.”
“And it doesn’t… weird you out?” I hold my breath, focusing on the feel of his skin against mine.
“No. It doesn’t. It makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Of course it does. You’re a guy, and you just want to be like other guys. But think about it this way: all guys are different anyway.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know it’s not, and I’m not trying to make light of how you feel. But I want you to know that it’s okay. Whatever you feel is okay.”
“Thank you.” I press a kiss against his lips, and he kisses me back, humming against my mouth. “Now, can we please talk about something else?”
“Of course. What do you wanna talk about?”
“Uhm… dinner maybe? Do you have something else we can cook?”
“Let me check.” Caleb lets go of me, and I instantly miss the feeling of safety I’ve come to associate with him.
He heads to the fridge and starts rummaging through it.
When he resurfaces, his arms are filled with eggs, a chunk of Gouda, green bell peppers, and an open package of prosciutto.
He drops everything on the kitchen island, then eyes me, smiling crookedly. “This is it. Pathetic, I know.”
“I can work with that.” I walk up beside him.
He groans and tips his head back. “I was supposed to cook for you.”
“It’s okay. We’ll cook together. It’ll be fun. We need a bowl.”
“A bowl?” He looks at me like I’ve suddenly switched from English to Cantonese.
“Yes. You do have a bowl, right?”
“Of course. I mean, I think so at least.” Panic flickers in his eyes, and I can’t help laughing. I love seeing this side of Caleb, a less certain and confident one. He’s always so together, so it feels good seeing a more vulnerable version of him.
I shake my head, smiling, while my heart races in my chest. “You’re hopeless.” Hopeless and amazing. Really, truly amazing.
“Not a lost cause, I hope?” The last remnants of vulnerability in his eyes fade, and he’s back to being his teasing, flirty self.
“Never.”
He starts opening every cabinet in search of a bowl, leaving the doors open.
I reach for the bag of peppers and focus on the food.
I smell the prosciutto, but it’s fine. My thoughts drift as my hands work with experience.
I bared another part of myself to Caleb today, and he caught me when I threatened to spin out of control.
He didn’t freak out, but he didn’t try to play down my fears either.
He was just there for me, listening and keeping me grounded.
And as much as I love kissing Caleb—because I really fucking love kissing him—I love him being there for me, listening to me, even more.
He even read about what to expect. Warmth pools in my chest, and I feel the last bit of tension in my body bleeding away.
“Victory!” Caleb yells, and I nearly drop the peppers. “Found it.” He beams at me, holding up the smallest fucking bowl in the universe.
I snort. “What’s that?”
He frowns at me. “A bowl, baby.”
Fuck, that ‘baby’ he just throws around so generously. He has no idea what it does to me.
“Okay.”
“What?”
I bite back another snort. “Nothing. Now you just need a whisk.”
He instantly pales. “Oh shit. I’m not sure I have one.”
I shake my head. “You’re impossible. Use a fork instead, then.”
“Yes, chef!” He salutes me, then leans in and growls against my chin. “Fuck, you’re sexy when you cook.”
“I am?”
“Yes.”
“I’m only opening a bag of peppers.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Still fucking hot.”
“How the hell is that hot?”
“Just is, baby.”
I shake my head, but decide that there’s no point in arguing with him. If Caleb Morgan, the sexiest guy alive, thinks I’m hot opening a bag of bell peppers, then I’m not going to try to convince him otherwise. I’ll just take it.