the weight of unspoken words hung heavy, a silent tension that buck felt compelled to break. the discussion had veered into uncharted territory, an exploration of kissing across different genders that he wished to gently steer away from.
it seemed a physical demonstration was the only way to prove his argument, which now felt like a distant memory.
eddie wiped at his lips, a gesture that drew attention to the lingering taste of beer. his gaze flickered towards the coffee table, mirroring buck's own awareness of the lingering aroma of taco fillings, a less than ideal backdrop for their impending embrace.
their knees bumped awkwardly as they shifted on the couch, a testament to their shared unease.
eddie, surprisingly, didn't protest. he settled back, feet firmly planted on the floor. buck, in response, adjusted his position, drawing a leg onto the cushion to face eddie more comfortably.
the moment of connection
eddie's nervous anticipation was palpable, evidenced by the subtle wetting of his lips.
buck understood the feeling. neither of them had yet closed their eyes. eddie's wide, brown eyes resembled that of a startled animal, magnified by the proximity. now or never. with a racing heart, buck closed the distance, closing his eyes to meet eddie.
buck relinquished control, allowing eddie to guide their kiss.
he made no move to deepen it, content to linger, perhaps extending the kiss beyond the boundaries of a mere demonstration.
eddie blinked, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. a hand grasped and tugged gently. he seemed helpless, surrendering to buck's embrace, reciprocating as best he could.
the hand in buck's hair grew more insistent, shifting his head as eddie turned, pressing him against the cushion with the firm support of a hand on his sternum.
buck shifted, his jeans suddenly feeling tight. the television, sensing the change, flicked through channels in a chaotic frenzy.
the resulting commotion separated them, eddie's eyes wide and breath coming in ragged gasps. buck fumbled for the remote, muting the television.
he looked at eddie. both were slick with saliva, mouths swollen and flushed, jaws reddened from stubble.
they stared at each other, breathing slowing. eddie flinched, falling off the couch, a curse escaping his lips as his knee connected with the coffee table.
the silence was deafening without the television's background noise. eddie seemed to concur, reaching for the remote and jabbing at the volume button repeatedly.
this was different. buck felt a little hysterical, a little dizzy. he craved the shower and the privacy of his right hand.
longing and reflection
but that longing was nothing compared to missing something they had shared, a taste of something that might never return.
the woman in question seemed more concerned with making eddie blush than with her literal bleeding leg.
buck excused himself—violently, so he could get away from the scene—stuck with the image of eddie politely pocketing the phone number. the experience was deemed different from kissing a woman, not in a good way or a bad way, just different.
a large, hairy, masculine different.
perhaps buck was always going to be different from eddie's experience. it had happened. buck needed to be, too. he tried to convince himself of this as he waited for eddie. he had been quiet on the ride back, brisk in the shower, and quick to change into his casual wear.
he looked so beautiful in the afternoon sun, buck noted, the sun highlighting his hair and face.
his shirt was a comfortable, familiar piece of clothing, proof of love rather than fashion indifference.
eddie tossed his bag in the back of the jeep and climbed into the passenger seat, waiting for buck. buck sighed, unsure if his irritation was genuine, and joined him.
eddie reached into his back pocket for his phone, retrieving a piece of paper.
buck waited for eddie to ball up the paper and toss it away or crumple it and throw it away, as he often did. instead, eddie smoothed it out on his knee, scrutinizing it more than buck thought necessary.
unspoken feelings and shared moments
perhaps this wasn't so different than kissing marisol.
eddie shrugged and turned to buck. you know, he said, kissing a woman versus kissing a man. eddie looked at him, face unreadable. something about eddie treating him the same way he would treat a girl had buck dizzied with arousal.
yeah, that sounds good, eddie said, fingers tapping on his phone screen.
buck inhaled, closed his eyes, and backed the jeep out of the lot. once, a test of the experience. twice—initiated by eddie? eddie kissed him like he wanted to kiss him.
buck clenched his fingers on the steering wheel. memories flooded his mind. tommy, accusatory; maddie, skeptical; taylor, confrontational.
the christmas elf, and a dozen strangers like her, presumptuous in a way buck wouldn't be.
could eddie, any longer? however long this lasted. buck exhaled, deflated, causing eddie to glance over. he shook himself. buck could go-with-the-flow. he was the most go-with-the-flow person.
if eddie wanted to, settle a bet, explore, whatever.
for a while, buck hated his birthday. as a child, with maddie taking him to arcades and go-karting, it was good. he felt loved.
like celebrating his existence was something he deserved, too.
some years there was one. not all, though. moving to la, joining the fire station, finding his family, gave him back some of that birthday magic. and bobby? 'we need to call the fire brigade?' buck was cheerfully dog-piled in the bunkroom at midnight and woke up to decorations and fond nicknames and eddie pressed up against him on the couch all morning.
'i have a mountain of paperwork to get through for the new insurance.' he looked up, pointing a finger at buck.
the panicked self-preservation only increased when buck fully teared up at the card depicting buck and chris as han and luke on the falcon. 'does that make your dad darth vader?'
celebration and anticipation
the house smelled of vanilla when they got home, the air thick and sweet.
music from the kitchen radio filled the hall as they kicked off their shoes. the cake had sunk in the middle, cream cheese in a little crater. the frosting was generous, covering every surface, piped messily. there were eight slightly used-looking blue candles stuck into the top.
paul hollywood would probably have an aneurysm at the sight of it.
he smelled like vanilla, too. buck just held him tighter, lifting eddie. 'make a wish,' chris said, and buck did. the remaining cake had been cut into convenient slices and placed in tupperware.
buck grabbed one last slice before handing the container to eddie.
'like, people collectively agree on that,' buck grinned. he felt mostly sure about this. the homemade cake. the enthusiasm with which eddie participated last time. settling a bet seemed a lot further away, right now.
he could tell the moment it clicked for eddie.
a slight widening of his eyes, lips parted around an unspoken oh, the way his body swayed forward. 'you do.' the bar was busy, karaoke at one end, a dance floor at the other. buck nodded, scrambling out of the booth, unsurprised when eddie followed.
he, optimistically, ordered another pitcher.
buck caught the bartender's eye as she shook her head with a grin. she turned to him fully, eyes raking up and down his body. 'just never seen anyone who looks like you order a drink like that.'
exploration of identity and attraction
she bit her lip, eyes sparkling.
her gaze shifted, and then the smile vanished. she looked apologetic. he told eddie exactly as much. buck managed to hold that thought in his otherwise floaty head. with that girl.
'like, do you come out to a bar with a, you know, preference for who you wanna go home with that night?
like, um. do you have nights out when you wanna take a guy home instead of a girl?' buck thought about it for a second. except for, you know, tommy. and it was always women before that.
buck studied his face for a moment before sliding out of the booth. eddie made no move to move, leaning against the wide sink as buck washed his hands.
eddie chewed on his lip. 'on the same night. and you had to pick.' he went easily, body loose and pliant.
'if you had a choice. would you rather kiss that girl at the bar?' he moved to adjust it, teeth clacking—accidentally biting eddie—and smearing spit. the sugary residue from his cocktail coated his mouth, and he wondered if eddie could taste it.
eddie seemed to pick up on this, happy to trade saliva back and forth.
he walked buck backwards, pushing him into an empty stall. buck obeyed without question, head tilted back. the ceiling was wheeling above him, a little, but everything was shining.
eddie, above him, glowing. buck whimpered, arousal blazing through him. bone mass, voice pitch, energy levels, temperament—the list of physical and psychological attributes it has the potential to alter are exhaustive.
it's common knowledge that testosterone ramps up the libido.
but for some trans men, it doesn't just heighten their sexuality, it shifts it altogether. 'i'm finding myself more attracted to men. after about a year [on testosterone], i started to accept my sexuality as a bisexual.'
that took me by surprise, because i've always been more comfortable with women.
testosterone is a powerful thing that's going into your body and it has some very interesting and permanent changes. though he identifies as bisexual, krisanda is currently only interested in exploring romantic and physical relationships with men.
even if his friends offered to set him up on a date with a potentially well-matched female, he says he'd probably decline the offer.
in less than a year, krisanda had gone from exclusively dating women, to exclusively dating men. his experience isn't an uncommon one in the female-to-male ftm community.
navigating challenging relationships
your partner's initially undisclosed unprotected and risky sex with daddies, granddaddies, polar bears, etc.
not only is your partner growing in a direction that's taking him far away from you, he's doing so unsafely and with seemingly no concern for your health or emotional security.
or maybe he self-servingly thinks your health isn't an issue here, since you two aren't having sex.
but the collapse of your sex life is also grounds to end things, papas, since you're not interested in being in a companionate relationship with gay gerontophile.
he needs to speak with his doctor and with a therapist—and disclose all of his recent troubling behavior to them, along with his post-getting-on-t depression and sobriety issues.
and you're in a good a position to push him to get help, papas, by making it a condition of staying together for the moment.
you don't have to stay with him forever; transitioning and being on t doesn't give someone a free pass to be awful to their partners or anyone else , papas, and agreeing to stay with him for the moment doesn't obligate you to stay with him for the rest of your life even if he does get his shit together.
but if you can leverage your presence in his life right now to get him to get himself the help he clearly needs right now —help a girlfriend can't provide on her own—you'll be in a better place, logistically and karmically, to transition yourself out of this relationship if that's what you ultimately decide to do.
but he's likelier to get the help he needs if his partner pushes him to do it, papas, rather than his ex.
if things don't stabilize—even if the do—you can still end the relationship. and who knows? getting him the help he needs may restore your compassionate, emotive, ethical partner to you.
finding support and community
good luck. listen to my podcast, the savage lovecast, at www.
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