Author's Intro/ Disclaimer: Same as always. Characters aren't mine. Long live Jonathan Larson!

Well, Collins and I finally talked. In my confusion I think I became a little distant. I walked in the loft from doing some filming in Tompkins Square Park. All I heard was Collins and Joanne in the kitchen area.

"Talk to him."

"No."

"Yes."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't."

"You have to."

"No."

"Yes."

"Fine."

I pretended not to hear them and just went over into my room to file my film away. I decided to wait in there to see if anything happened. After a minute or two, Collins came in.

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey." I smiled and he smiled back. He walked over behind me and put his hands around my waist resting his head on my shoulder. I kept filing my film. When I was done, I turned around in his arms to face him. His lips pressed against mine but I just stood there, not returning the kiss. He got the hint, he's always good at taking hints. He took his hands off of me and stepped back two steps.

"What's going on with you?" he asked clearly concerned.

"I don't know what you mean." I chickened out and played dumb. Last time we had to talk I had to start it, so this time it was his turn.

"Something's not right with you boy."

"Yeah, so."

"So what's going on?"

"I don't know." I stared at his feet, I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"What do you mean you don't know? You've been distant, Mark. You stopped returning my kisses. You won't snuggle up next to me on the couch when we watch TV. When I try to hold you, you just stand there until I let go and then you walk away. I don't know what I did wrong. You need to talk to me."

"I think you know why."

"You do, you think I'm psychic or something, stop looking at your feet would you." I looked up. He was yelling. Why was he yelling? I didn't want him to yell, I just wanted to talk. Had I hurt him? I didn't mean to hurt him or confuse him by doing those things, I just wanted to get him to talk to me. I wish he would stop yelling.

"No. I talked to Joanne, and I heard you talking to Joanne right before you came over here, so I know you know what's going on."

"Okay, so I know what's wrong, but I still don't understand."

"What's there to understand?" He turned is head away

"I don't understand why you aren't happy with what we have, you and I. I thought we talked about that. You and I, we have something special. You know that."

"I know, and I am happy. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. Having someone hold me tightly like you do and really love me just makes everything else in this shitty world disappear.

"But you want more?"

"No, Collins, no. I don't need anything more, and I don't want you to think that is what this is about."

"So what is it about? What do you want, Mark? I'm trying. It's not exactly the easiest thing in the world when supposedly you love me but you can't talk to me. You go to Joanne and if I'm lucky I find out from her. You have to talk to me, directly. None of this, "let's see if I can avoid it" shit."

"Stop yelling at me!" I was going insane. My head was exploding. Too many things were racing through my head. I had to make him stop talking so that I could think. He turned away again, ashamed. A tear rolled down my cheek. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at me. He sat down on the bed, his face in his hands. I turned my back on him so that I was facing my shelves again. I took a couple of deep breaths giving my self time to think and calm down. "It's the torture."

"What?" I didn't look at him but I imagine he lifted his face to look at me.

"The confusion, not knowing where we are going or what we have."

"I don't think I understand."

I couldn't be a coward any longer. I turned to face him, my face was flushed, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I love it when we stand in the kitchen and kiss. I love it when you come up behind me and hold me as tight as you can. I love it when we sit on the couch and I lay my head in your lap and you run your fingers through my hair. I love it so much, I can't get enough of it. But I hate it when I'm on the couch, you're leaning above me and you put those soft kisses all over my face that make my body tingle and shiver. And then you get me hard and all you do is put your hand there and then it stops, we stop, everything stops. Everything up to that point is great. The torture is unbearable but it's great until it stops and I'm left laying there wanting, needing more. I wouldn't need more if it never got that far, if there was nothing to stop. If those soft tortuous kisses never started, I would still be the happiest person on earth because I love you so much that I don't need sex, I just want to be held. But just because I don't need sex doesn't mean I don't want it after you've already got me hard and your hand is there and I'm waiting, just waiting, forever, for something to happen, and it never does. Nothing ever happens. So, if you'rE not ready to take it farther than this that's perfectly fine with me, but don't make me think you are and then don't do anything about it, because I'm the one who has lock myself in the bathroom and jack-off just to get my fucking erection to go down so that I'm not walking around the place like a total idiot for the rest of the night. And just to let you know, since we're "talking" it's not that pleasuring, I sit in there and cry for a half hour." And with that I left him sitting in the room, his face back in his hands. Joanne was still in the kitchen, she had been listening the entire time.

"Come here." She said to me, her arms wide open. I walked over and embraced her, sobbing into her shoulder. I felt like a four year old, but it felt good just to get it out. I needed to get it out and she held me. Not as a lover like Collins does, but as a friend, who is always there for me. "It'll be okay." She said.

"I'm sorry." I said between sobs.

"No, don't be. I'm proud of you. It takes a lot of gut to come out and say what you truly are feeling, even if it's the hardest thing on earth. Even if you're afraid you're going to hurt someone you love. But it'll be okay. He understands now and everything will be better soon. Dinner's ready."

"Oh god. I don't think I can eat right now. I'm sorry. My head is pounding."

"That's fine. Why don't you go lay down in my room?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Thanks, Joanne."

"No problem." She smiled at me. I turned and walked towards her room. Collins was still sitting on my bed with his head in his hands.

I didn't sleep. I just laid down on my side on top of her comforter and cried some more. Once I was safely in the room with the door shut I heard her faintly talking to Collins.

"Your turn," she said. Good old Joanne, she's the best. He must have gotten up because my bedroom was on the other side of the place and I could hear him talking.

"Joanne, I didn't mean to hurt him like that. I had no idea. I would have done something a lot earlier had I known."

"Well duh, that's why I made you talk to him. Although I have to admit yelling at him probably didn't help."

"I didn't mean to yell at him. God, I feel like shit now."

"Hey, just give him some time and take it slow. He's fragile. He's really never been in a relationship before. He was Maureen's slave and we never really had anything. This is totally new ground for him, and it doesn't help that you suffered a lot of emotional pain after Angel died. When you kissed him that first day that was your way of telling the world you were ready to move on, and he knows how lucky he was to be on the receiving end of that. But you have to remember that you have experience and he doesn't that's why he's the submissive one and you're usually in control. He's shy and unsure with himself and he doesn't know what to do. He's afraid to talk to you.

"I see that. I mean you'd think that we'd be able to talk fine, we've known each other for ages, and yet, he goes to you and not me."

"Well that's because the relationship between you has shifted from friends to lovers. And when you loose that sense of friendship you lose some of the ability to express what you are feeling. He trusts you with his life, yet what he's found in you is so great that he's scared to death that he's going to loose it and doesn't want to take the chance of compromising that."

"But how do I change that. How do I let him know that he can tell me anything and that I'll still love him?"

"Well, you could start by not yelling at him when he does tell you something."

"It was an impulse reaction."

"Impulse or not, if that's how you react he's going to be less likely to talk to you. He's fragile, you have to remember that. "

"Okay, but what else. I don't yell at him very often."

"Just make talking a regular part of your relationship. Even if it's not something important, when something important does need to be discussed it will come out easier.

"Okay, I think I can do that.

"And be more decisive when it comes to how you guys show your affection."

"Yeah. I really didn't realize or know and I wouldn't have done it if I did."

"I know, but now you need to fix that. Just take it slow as you get back into it."

"Okay. Thanks Joanne. You're a lifesaver."

"You going to have dinner?"

"Nah, sorry. I think I might go lay with him."

"Uhh…no. Bad idea. He's still a mess. Just give him some time. Slow remember?"

"Right. Okay. Well then I'm just going to go for a walk and think things over too. "

"Alright, see you later."

"Thanks again." And with that I could hear someone, presumably Collins, open and shut the heavy door to our loft. I sighed and tried to clear my head, closing my eyes. But I still couldn't sleep.

~Mark