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Zane tugged off his jacket, throwing it to the ground without much care for where it landed before diving back in for another kiss. Nana giggled, walking him backwards as she shed hair accessories. His legs hit the bed, and he pulled her down to his lap. She laughed again and Zane couldn’t help but laugh too. Never had he ever been so grateful for Garroth and Laurence’s date nights; they’d be gone for several more hours. Perfect. He needed Nana like he needed air. Her fingers played at the hem of his shirt, trailing up torturously slow until Zane was ready to tear the damn thing off himself.
And then time stopped as he realized just what exactly was about to happen. He was stupid before, letting himself get caught up in the moment without thinking through the consequences. Now, he was pushing Nana’s hands away and dreading the worst. He tried to breathe steady, but the room was too small, and Nana was too close, and his chest was too tight.
Suddenly, Nana’s weight was gone, then something plastic was pressed into his palm. He immediately recognized the shape as his inhaler. Stupid fucking asthma. Now he was anxious, terrified, and embarrassed.
Nana can barely get a syllable out before Zane was saying, “I- Scars. I can’t- I’m not- Too soon…” which barely passed for words.
She gently shushed him then removed her top, showing her own scar from shoulder to navel. “It’s alright, Zane, I have them too. They don’t make you any less handsome.”
What could possibly do that when he was already as far from handsome as one could get? He could feel the burning behind his eyes. His vision blurred and he knew what was coming. He could only gasp out an apology before he bolted down the stairs right as the tears fell. That was probably all he was good for, crying. Being too emotional and ruining everything. Hiding himself behind literal and metaphorical masks.
He practically collapsed onto the couch, curling up in the corner with his knees to his chin and his hands in his hair. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. He hated crying, and yet he was. He could tell it was the loud, hiccupping, ugly sobbing he detested the most. He deserved it. He’d screwed up, not just then, but every time he never told her. The guilt ate at him, and yet he never did anything. That was the kind of stupid behavior that forced him to switch middle schools. History repeats itself, and it was repeating the worst events of his life. Lying and hiding only delayed the inevitable. Nana would never love him after what he’d done, keeping this big of a secret from her. She’d hate him for wasting her time for the past five months.
And suddenly Zane wasn’t just crying about this moment anymore. He was the type to keep everything bottled up until it all boiled over. He knew it was self-destructive, but he didn’t know how to stop. He was crying about Starlight: Garroth, who lost his chance at a human life; Aphmau, who lost her fiancé; Aaron, who lost his memories; Travis, who nearly lost himself. He cried over the holes in his own recollection. He couldn’t remember much about Vylad, or his early childhood. Some names still eluded him, and he counted himself so lucky that he didn’t completely forget Nana.
But it kept going further back: he could recall middle school as boys he thought were his friends jeered at him and spat words of hate; he was told many times before that he’d never be a real man, always just a pretender; he remembered every single time he was misgendered, sometimes on purpose, sometimes because he just didn’t pass; he remembered his deadname for the first time in over a decade and his stomach lurched. Irene, why couldn’t his relic form eat away those memories?
He could just barely register Nana’s footsteps across the hardwood over the ringing in his ears. He felt her sit on the other end of the couch, giving him the space she always knew he needed.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, all innocence and worry.
Zane’s head shot up, horrified that she could ever think that. “No, nonononono, it was me. I…” He what? Was a coward?
“Then what is wrong? Why are you crying? Is there anything I can do to fix whatever happened?”
Just hearing her voice was enough to calm him, but those words sparked a new wave of tears. She was too good to him. She was more than he deserved.
Maybe it was the pressure of hiding it, maybe it was the kind of honesty that only comes from a mental breakdown, but before he could stop himself, Zane was saying, “I’m trans.”
He wasn’t ready to hear her response, so he kept talking through the embarrassing hiccupping sobs, apologizing for lying, for hiding it, for never telling her. He apologized for wasting her time, and screwing everything up. He apologized for letting their relationship get this far built on dishonestly. He apologized desperately, begging her to please forgive him.
“I understand if you want to leave, or never see me again, or yell at me. I get it; I’d leave too…”
But she didn’t leave. She looked at him with a strange mix of emotions that Zane couldn’t quite place. She scooted closer, and pulled him into the tightest hug he’d ever experienced. It was then that he noticed she was crying too.
“Zane, I love you! I fell in love with you, Zane Ro’Meave, my boyfriend, how could I ever leave you over something like this? I love you so much, and I dare you to argue with me about it!”
Zane found himself in a shocked silence. He stared at the wall over Nana’s shoulder for several minutes, hearing his heartbeat like a drum in his ears, then hugged her back. He wasn’t sobbing anymore, but the tears still fell. They’d never said ‘I love you’ before, and Nana just had, several times, in less than a minute. And that was it, wasn’t it? She loved him. It was the only explanation for why she was still here. Zane’s heart fell out of rhythm for a few beats and his stomach did a flip. She loved him. Despite everything, she loved him.
Nana pulled back just enough to face Zane properly. “I don’t blame you for not telling me. You’ve always kept to yourself, so I understand why it’s hard for you to trust people.” She punctuated the statement with a kiss to his forehead.
“I’m still sorry…”
“Your freckles make you look boyish.” She kissed his cheek.
“Huh?”
“You can be tough and abrasive at times, but you’re also kind and sensitive.” She kissed his nose.
“I don’t understand?”
“You’re strong and protective, and you make me feel safe.” She kissed his jaw.
Zane smiled and laughed in spite of himself. It was a small, tear-soaked laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Nana’s smile mirrored his own, and she continued with renewed vigor, peppering compliments all over his face, pulling out laughs whenever she could.
Zane was not used to this kind of attention, but just this once he decided to let himself believe it.