Vince asked, “Do you have lube?”
“Yes.” I grabbed some as well as a sleeve. When I handed him the lube, he didn’t glance at me. He moved to the couch and got on all fours as he circled his hole with a slick finger. With every touch, his unease was rising.
Vince wasn’t ready for this.
“Little Warrior,” I whispered, touching his back.
He leaped and skittered away from me, eyes wide and glassy.
“You do not want this.”
“I do,” he snapped, panting. “Maybe you don’t want me anymore, but I do.” The tension in his body and his softening cock told a different story.
“We don’t have to do this.”
“If you don’t want me, then fine. I’ll just get someone else. It doesn’t matter who. I just need a dick.”
A knife lodged in my soul, but I pushed my pain away. I came closer, and Vince’s breathing increased, as did his terror. When I reached for him, a shriek ripped out of his lips, and he scrambled away until his back crashed into the wall.
“No,” he cried, covering his face and drawing his knees to his chest. “No! No. No. No.”
The terror was so sharp it sent me to my knees. “Vince, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Tears slid down his cheeks. “I want it to be over. I decided I was over it. I did. Not anyone else. Me! This is my body, and I decided it was over.”
Slowly, I scooted closer, kneeling in front of him. His face was buried against his knees and his body shook with the strain that was echoing inside of him. Memories from his time on Xome washed through him, and I tried not to focus on them, because I needed to be present.
“Vince, my lovely warrior, you may have decided, but your body has not. There’s a wound deep inside of you that needs to be cleaned and healed. It will take time, and more than you deciding you don’t wish to feel the pain any longer.”
He sobbed, holding himself tighter. “I just want to be done. I want everything to be done. I want you, Don. Why can’t I not care about Xome?”
“Because you need to heal. And perhaps you need help.”
He peeked up. “Will you help me?”
The absolute trust shining in his eyes and the innocence in his voice had me moving closer. “I will, in any way I can, but you need professional help.”
Grunting, he hid against his knees once more. Shame filled him, and I didn’t understand.
“There’s no need for embarrassment or shame. I’ve spoken to professionals, as have many people, Vince.”
He curled up even more, shaking and crying. Panic was growing with each passing moment. “Help me.”
I slid close enough to place my hand on his cheek. The connection flooded me with his fear, his shame, his anger, everything, while I, in turn, gave him my peace, my comfort, my very soul.
His muscles relaxed, and Vince sagged toward me. I scooped him up, setting him on my lap, holding him close, as I continued to feed him my calm.
“Why can’t I do this?” he whined.
I nuzzled the top of his head. “Because you are not ready.”
“I want to be.”
“I know.” I pressed a kiss to his hair. “Oh, how I know, Little Warrior. But you are not yet. I shall be here whenever you are, and if that time never comes, I’ll still be right here beside you.”
More tears slid down Vince’s cheek, and I brushed them away, rocking him gently in my embrace. I hummed, pushing the music into him, and Vince relaxed further. I continued to kiss his head and sing him a wordless tune of my affection.
Chapter 23
