Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

HUGO

We’re an hour earlier than we need to be, but we’d left Torin’s apartment with a list of errands and wanted to give ourselves plenty of time to accomplish them. Apparently, we had less than we thought we did. Or they just took less time than we anticipated.

Now we’re sitting in the arena parking lot, listening to Christmas music and talking. I love these little moments. Sometimes, it surprises me that I love them as much as I do. Nothing about relationships truly sounded appealing before. Even when I imagined doing this, it felt boring.

This isn’t boring at all. I love everything about this. Part of me wants hockey to be canceled so we can continue to sit here and talk. We’re not even talking about anything important, and I still want that.

Christmas with his family was interesting. A very strange set of events occurred, during which I got to witness as the vast chasm between Torin and his brother closed up quite a bit. Oddly enough, bonding over being gay is what did it.

It was strange because Torin says he’s always been open about being gay, so he doesn’t understand why bringing home a boyfriend created a bridge between him and his brother. I’m glad for it, though. I always find it sad when siblings don’t get along. The part that seemed to miff the entire family was that Torin’s brother is gay, too. Apparently, that hadn’t been widely known. Torin says in hindsight, there were a lot of signs that suggested as much, but again, they weren’t close. So it never came up.

Not that I think there’s any one way for families to be. I also know that in many cases, the family you create around you can be far more supportive and loving than the one you’re born into. Egon’s family is a good example of that. They’re not good people. Even Atty’s are a little… misguided, but thankfully, they seem to be coming around. At the very least, they’re making an honest effort.

I know I’m fortunate to have a close family. We might not always agree with one another’s life choices, but we always support each other. We love each other a lot. Having seen the strange subtle dysfunction in Torin’s home makes me appreciate mine all the more. It makes me aware of just how fortunate I am.

It also makes me want to give Torin a home free of all that stuff. One where he knows he’s allowed to be whoever he is authentically. He can have whatever relationships with friends and family that he chooses. Somewhere he has all the support and escape for his anxiety and no one gets impatient or annoyed or inconvenienced by his struggles.

It’s too soon to ask him to move in though, right? It is. I’m confident of that. Besides, what would we do with his fish tank? We’d have to get a different house. I’m not opposed to that, but I’m definitely aware that it’s far too soon.

Probably.

Winny had Dana move in after six months. I think I can wait until… ugh. It’s only been a single month since our first date when I learned I was texting Torin and not some random girl. Do I begin from there? Or can I go back further to the first time we hung out? I’m pretty sure that very first time is when things already started to change for me.

Maybe because I’d already thought of him as my friend. He wasn’t new to me even though that was the first time we officially hung out.

I looked up demisexual and demiromantic as Torin suggested I do, and I think I’m somewhere within the demisexual and graysexual range. What I found really interesting is the term caedsexual, which means someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction due to, or influenced by, past trauma. This doesn’t have to be sexual trauma—like assault or rape. It can also be moments we’ve lived through that have caused a lasting impression on how you view the world or sex.

Like watching both of my siblings become teenage parents. The ways they struggled. How my parents struggled and viewed them. How my sister insists she used protection and still ended up with an unplanned teenage pregnancy.

There’s no doubt in my mind those moments colored my relationship with sex. They terrified me so much that I am literally afraid of sex to some degree. I’m afraid of the outcome. I’m afraid of the impact it’ll have on my life. Of how there are consequences that can be out of my control—even when I do everything right.

I didn’t find a term that exactly fits me. I saw myself in a lot of them. Like mollsexual, who feels sexual desire weakly sometimes; or aceflexible who experiences it occasionally, but not necessarily regularly or in a way that makes you want to act upon it.

The reason I think I fall somewhere between gray and demi is because of how I feel with Torin. It wasn’t immediate, so I think Torin is definitely right that I fall under the demisexual flag somewhere. But the more I got to know Torin, the closer we got, the more sex stopped feeling so… blah. My interest climbs all the time. I want his touch, which hardly ever happened before.

It’s not a complete change in me. It’s an awakening that’s only in association with Torin. Thus, the demisexual.

I found less information on aromantic identities, but when I talked to Torin about it, he says it’s an even newer conversation than asexuality is. There are less people talking about it but the conversation is picking up a little more all the time. But I imagine that I would fall under the same kinds of umbrellas, just removing the ‘sexual’ and replacing it with ‘romantic’—demiromantic and grayromantic.

I also think I have the past trauma of seeing the dumpster fires which were my brother’s marriages and my sister’s first marriage as part of the reason I have been so indifferent, and almost completely uninterested, in a romantic relationship. I’ve seen the very worst, despite my sheltered life not exposing me to most of the nasty things that happen in the world. But it doesn’t mean that the things I have seen and experienced second hand have had any less of a lasting impact on me.

“You’re so quiet,” Torin says. “What’re you thinking about?”

The car is off. We’re just sitting inside my arena’s car, facing the door. I’d say we were people watching, but no one has shown up yet. I shake my head. “Just thinking about the things I’ve read.”

“Do you feel better about being able to explain it if you choose to?”

I nod. “Yeah. I think I do. So much of what I read felt like it was written for me and about me. Though I knew I wasn’t broken, I knew I was just different; I even knew on a subconscious level why. I told you why I’m a virgin.”

Torin nods.

“What I didn’t know is that there are others who are just like me. I didn’t necessarily think I was unique or special or anything. It’s just… I guess I didn’t realize how many people there are who feel like I do about sex and relationships. I’ve never really felt alone, but now it feels like I have a community, even when I don’t know them.”

He leans over the console and rests his head against my shoulder. His hand on my thigh, though innocent, is enough to stir some heat in me. “It’s reassuring knowing you’re not alone, isn’t it?”

I sigh. “Yeah. I like that I understand what I’ve been trying to say. It’s still a jumbled mess in my head and I don’t think I can repeat the words quite yet until I get them in order, but they’re there. I kind of feel relieved.”

“Good. I know how difficult it can be when you don’t understand why you’re different, even when you’re not upset about that difference.”

“You’ve felt that way too?”

Torin nods. “Yep. There are definitely more gay men out in the world now than there have been in previous decades. But even so, heteronormative culture is what’s shoved down our throats. Beginning way back from children’s shows with a mom and a dad. Disney movies with the damsel in distress and Prince Charming—every gender specificity that there’s one and the other, even when the damsel and hero change genders. Those societal expectations that we’ve talked about—a successful life means a wife, kids, house, and career. Knowing I don’t fit into that narrative is frustrating. But there’s this misconception that gay men would like to be straight. Because it would be easier or ‘normal’ or whatever. I promise you, that’s not the case for most gay men. I’m happy to be gay. I would choose this every time.”

“You love dicks,” I tease.

Torin laughs. “I do. But to say that I wish I could be straight is basically screaming into the void that there’s something wrong with me. It gives all the assholes more power. And the truth is, I’m proud of who I am. I’m not at all ashamed of being attracted to men or having sex with men. If I could change something about myself, it wouldn’t be my sexuality. It would be my anxiety. I would choose to be gay every single time.”

“I really love that,” I tell him and rest my head against his. “I would take your anxiety away if I could. But I wouldn’t change anything else about you. I think you’re absolutely perfect. Every little, tiny thing about you is just… perfection.”

Torin sighs. “You’re biased, I think, but it means a lot to know you feel that way.”

“I am biased. But it doesn’t mean that’s not the truth. I think we’re all perfect just the way we are.” I think about that for a minute. “Okay, not everyone . Like the murderers and those who need to start wars because someone doesn’t agree with what they believe to be the truth. But I mean…”

“I know what you mean.” He shifts in his seat and presses his lips to mine. “I agree.”

We’re quiet as the Christmas music continues its soft melody within the confines of my car. It’s low, just a backdrop to this moment. I almost wish there was snow on the ground. I miss snow for Christmas.

I don’t miss everything else that comes with snow, but I definitely miss the obvious change of seasons. If we could just have snow for a single day—Christmas day—that would be amazing.

“Have you ever seen snow?” I ask.

Torin nods. “I went to Minnesota with the team once in March. There was still snow.”

“Oof. What about during Christmas?”

He shakes his head. “No. ”

“I think one year, we’re going to have to go to the mountains and spend Christmas there.”

“My family will have a fit if I don’t come for the holiday.”

“They can come to us. Besides, you’re an adult now. You’re old enough to have your own family and start your own traditions. They’re going to need to understand that.”

He turns his head, kissing my shoulder. “You’re going to have to be the one to tell them that.”

Grinning, I nod. “Done. I can call them now.” I reach for my phone.

Laughing, Torin stops me. “How about you wait until the Christmas you put that plan into action.”

Sighing, I agree. “Fine.”

Over the next few minutes, we finally see other players show up and head for the door. Once I see Winny, I sigh. “I think that means it’s time.”

Torin nods. “I’ll see you after the game?”

“Nothing else I want to be doing.”

Torin smiles when he picks his head up. “Me neither.”

Hand in hand, we walk into the arena and I drop him off at his office. With a last kiss, I make my way into the locker room.

One of the stupidest things in professional sports is that we have to show up in a suit, so those who watch me walk from my car to the door and back see me in a suit. What is the purpose? I hear lots of reasons that have to do with professionalism and shit, but honestly, there are very few careers these days that require suits. Mostly lawyers and sports shit.

I strip out of my layers and drape them on the hooks. This is honestly how much I care about my suits. I couldn’t give two shits about wrinkles. I look like a dweeb in a suit.

By the time I’m stripped down, then stuffed into the compression garments that are so tight they look painted on and stretching, most of the team is here. We’re playing Vegas again, and I’d really like to win tonight.

“Doing okay, Hugo?” Noah asks on his way by, dropping his hand onto my head as he does. It’s a sign of affection coming from him, and I always appreciate it since, outside of dancing, he’s not a touchy-feely kind of guy .

“Yep. You?”

He flashes me a smile. “Perfect. Azure’s on his game tonight so we need to be on ours more.”

“You haven’t even seen him play yet,” I point out.

“I know Azure and I just spoke to him outside. Trust me when I tell you he’s on his game.”

“Then we need to be on ours,” Coach Ajo interjects as he steps into the door. “Vegas is a great team. They’re a touch team without resorting to playing nasty. That means we need to push harder. Elevate our own game. I know you have it in you because I have the privilege of watching you play every day. You got this.”

Even when we suck, Coach Ajo makes it sound like we’re top notch. Like we’re the team to beat. There’s a part of me, even when I know it’s not true, that believes it. I’m pretty sure my teammates feel the same way. I think it’s that belief that carries us through the tough days.

I continue to stretch and let my teammates’ conversations surround me. Seeping into my mind and getting me into the right mood. The winning mood.

I am a brick wall. Be a brick wall .

My thoughts nearly make me snort.

It isn’t long before I’m climbing into my gear and we’re moving down the chute toward the ice. As always, my first task is searching the crowd for my number. It takes me a minute but I find it. My grin is extra huge when I find Torin-as-Surry the seal pointing at the girl wearing it. I can imagine him grinning within his seal head as he points dramatically at the girl.

She’s holding my number out and then turns to show me my name on her back. Fuck yes. My man and my number. I’m ready to kick some ass tonight.