#gray asexuality

“Patrick, I have to tell you something.”

“I know you only like the gelcaps, David.”  Patrick returns with the bottle of painkillers in one hand and a glass of water in the other.  

“That’s not it,” David says.

“Okay, what is it?  What can I do for you?”  He’s sincere.  If David said he had a little-known medical condition that required him to stand naked in the woods under the light of a full moon, Patrick would strip down to keep him company and get out the bug spray.

It’s almost too much to take.  Patrick is so earnest, so adorable, sitting on the edge of the bed in his sleep pants and worn t-shirt, ready to take care of David.  David loves him so much, more than he ever imagined he could love anyone.  Patrick is proof that David is capable of all-encompassing, full-on grown-up love.  And what David is about to say could ruin it all.

“Put down the pills, Patrick.  They’re not going to help.”

Patrick frowns.  “They’re extra strength.”

David gives him a look, and Patrick shrugs.  “Fine.  Will you at least drink some water?  You could be dehydrated.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then what’s going on?”

Patrick has told him he makes him <i>feel right.</i>  That he <i>loves</i> David.  And David believes him.  So he’s got to say this.  It’s only going to get worse if he doesn’t.

He takes a deep breath and wills himself to say the words.  “I’m asexual.”  

Patrick finally puts the glass of water down.  “But we have sex all the time.”

“I’m not sex repulsed.  I like sex, sometimes.”

Patrick’s brow creases.  “I don’t understand.”

<i>Look it up,</i> a small, scared part of David wants to say.  But this is Patrick, and David feels a connection with him that he’s never felt with anyone else.  Even if what he feels with Patrick didn’t magically make him allo, David doesn’t want to wreck this, not if there’s the smallest chance that Patrick won’t run.

He tugs on Patrick’s shirt, encouraging him closer until they’re facing each other on the bed, David’s hands finding Patrick’s.  He’s shaking, or Patrick is.

“When I was a teenager, I figured out that I was good at sex.  Really good.  And that made me…” He shakes his head, trying to get the words out.  “It made me feel special.  It gave me power, a different kind than the money.  People wanted to be around me, wanted to be with me.  Boys and girls, men and women.  For a while, as long as the sex was good, they’d stay.  Eventually everyone would get tired of me, because I was too clingy, or whatever, but I could always find someone else because everyone knew I’d show them a good time.”

“But you didn’t… enjoy it?”  Patrick says, pained.

“Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t.  But I wasn’t sexually attracted to them most of the time.  I didn’t like thinking about that… aspect.  I hoped that I just hadn’t met the right person yet, that things would change.”  David doesn’t admit that he’d only let go of that particular wish in the past few months.  “The closest I’ve been able to figure, I’m probably gray ace, panromantic, generally sex favorable.”

David can practically see the gears turning in Patrick’s head.  “Panromantic means…?”

“I can be romantically attracted to people of any gender.  I can be in a romantic relationship - I want to be in a romantic relationship.  With you, obviously.”  If you still want me, David thinks.

“David… why didn’t you tell me?”

David lets go of Patrick’s hands, flopping over on his back to stare at the ceiling.  He can’t say this while looking at Patrick.  “We live in a culture of compulsory sexuality.  Sex is expected - you’re expected to <i>want</i> to have sex, to desire it, to be unable to resist the urge.  I don’t, not that way.  I got tired of people calling me a prude, or frigid.  Or a sociopath.”  The words burn as he says them.  “That’s what some people think when they hear ‘asexual.’”

“I don’t think that,” Patrick says, urgent.  “I swear I don’t.”  He moves towards David, then stops himself.  “I really want to hug you,” he says quietly.  “Can I?”

David opens his arms and Patrick slides close, digging his face into David’s neck as his arms go around him.  They hold on tight to each other for a few long moments, David breathing in the familiar scent of Patrick’s store brand laundry detergent while Patrick rubs circles on David’s back.

“You like this, right?”  Patrick asks tentatively.  “This is real?”

David’s heart aches.  “Yes.”

Patrick releases him slowly, pulling his arms back toward his own body.  “I can’t help thinking that I made you do stuff you didn’t want to do.  I wish you told me you didn’t want to.”

“It’s not like that,” David says, over a lump in his throat he didn’t realize was there.  His enjoyment/slash/tolerance for sex is complicated and seems to change from day to day, he’s not sure he even really understands it himself.  But it’s not like he didn’t consent.  “It’s more like -- say you asked me if I like graham crackers.  I don’t love them, but I don’t hate them either.  And I’m not going to go out looking for gourmet graham crackers to stock in the store.  But if we’re on a camping trip and you make s’mores, I’m absolutely going to enjoy eating them.”

Patrick blinks, his eyes glistening with tears.  “Putting aside the unlikelihood of you going camping, are you sure you don’t just like s’mores because of the chocolate?”

David laughs despite his nerves.  “So it’s not like exactly like s’mores.  Maybe it’s like tea.  I can make you tea even though I don’t want any.  Or, I might make some for both of us?”

Now it’s Patrick’s turn to laugh.  “David, you have never once made me tea.  I’m sure Twyla and your tab at the café can attest to that.”

“Fine,” David huffs, and he gives up on the analogies.  They’re just making him hungry anyway.  He closes his eyes and thinks about kissing Patrick until he makes that desperate sound in the back of his throat, about what it’s like to wrap his hand around Patrick’s cock and hear him whimper in pleasure.  “I like making you feel good, and it makes me feel good too.   It’s intimate, and emotional.  But I don’t need sex.  I don’t crave it.”

It’s clear Patrick is trying to process everything, despite feeling hurt.  “You aren’t attracted to me,” Patrick says, a tear finally escaping and sliding down his cheek.

“Not sexually.”  David swallows hard.  “At least, not most of the time.  But I am aesthetically, sensually, and romantically attracted to you.”

“Sensually?”

David lets his hands flutter to Patrick’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze, and then slides his hands down Patrick’s lovely arms.  “I like to touch you, and kiss you.”  He bites his lip.  “I like it a lot.  I like being close with you.”

Patrick looks away, seeming to choose his next question carefully.  “Does it make you uncomfortable that I, um, want you?”

“No.  Not with you.”  David bites his lip.  “I actually like it.  That’s pathetically hypocritical, I know.  

“What do you mean?”

“That I enjoy your… desire… but I can’t give you that, exactly.”  He trails off, waiting for Patrick to agree that it’s unfair, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he seems to accept it, and move on to what is inevitably the next question.  Usually the last question.  “What does this mean for us?”  

“Nothing has to change,” David starts, and Patrick interrupts him.

“Are you kidding?  How - how could that be?”

It stings, hearing the pain in Patrick’s voice, but it’s understandable.  “Okay, you’re right, not nothing, because you’ll know more about why I might not want to have sex sometimes.  And that might be hard to deal with.  But hopefully having it out in the open will be better for both of us.”  <i>I won’t have to pretend,</i> he thinks to himself, but manages not to say it.  “We can, um, communicate better.”

“Why would we have sex at all?”

“Because you want to.”

“How can I enjoy it if you don’t?  That sounds - that sounds wrong, David.  I’m not gonna do stuff with you that you don’t want to do.”

“We won’t.”  David sighs.  “I told you, I’m not sex repulsed.  It’s hard to explain… I like a lot of the aspects of sex.  It’s intimate.  It still makes me feel special.”  David ducks his head, afraid of saying too much.  “We’ll talk about it some more, as much as you want.  Assuming you still want anything to do with this,” he waves his hand at himself.

“Of course I do.  David...”  

David hates himself for doing this to Patrick, who thought he had everything related to sexuality all figured out, that David was his Mariah Carey and the world made finally made sense.

“I’m sorry, this is a lot, I know you probably think I’m weird-”

Patrick surges forward and wraps his arms tightly around David.  “You’re <i>not</i> weird.  You’re not.”

David isn’t sure how long they stay like that, wrapped around each other, David curled into Patrick and grounding himself with the sound of Patrick’s heartbeat.  Eventually emotional exhaustion overcomes the thrum of panic in his chest and he falls asleep in Patrick’s arms.  

*****

David wakes before their alarm and stumbles out of bed to use the bathroom.  When he comes out, he realizes that Patrick’s reader is on the floor next to the bed.  He can’t help it if it clicks on when he picks it up.

“Hey,” Patrick says, and David hastily sets the reader on the nightstand.

“Hey.  Do you, um, want some tea?  Not - you know, analogy tea, I mean, just tea.”

Patrick laughs, his voice gravelly with sleep.  “No, thanks.  Come back to bed, if, um, you want to?”

It’s awkward, they’re both stammering like middle schoolers, but it could be a lot worse.  David lets out a breath, grateful that at least Patrick is still here.  He slides under the duvet and wraps himself up, the sheets warm with Patrick’s body heat.

He can’t relax, though, his curiosity too strong to ignore.

“Were you, um, up late?”

Patrick nods, knowing what David is asking.  “I saw that book on your Amazon list a few months ago.  Thought it might be time to give it a read.”

“You read the whole thing?”  It had taken David a few nights to get through it, even though he was particularly motivated.

“Not all of it.  A lot.  It was… really helpful.  Eye-opening.  The part about compulsory sexuality hit home, for sure.  I definitely experienced that growing up, the expectation to have sex with girls, the prioritizing of sexual relationships.  The guys on my baseball team were always talking about sex.  The longer I went without having sex with Rachel, the more pressure I felt.  It was always just a question of when, and how often, not if.  My parents didn’t help, either.  They were so interested in me having a girlfriend, and then hitting all the milestones.  They definitely expected that I would be eager to have sex as soon as possible.”

“Really?”

Patrick buries his head in the pillow.  “My dad bought me condoms and lube when I was fourteen, and gave me new ones every so often ‘just in case.’  It was horrifying.”

David pats his back.  “Mmm, I’m sorry.”

Patrick turns his head to look at David.  “It had to have been even worse for you.  When did you figure out you were ace?”

“I don’t know.  Not soon enough.”

“Do you feel… bad about it?”

David pauses, doing a quick internal assessment, and he’s not surprised at what he finds.  “I wish I could say no.  Not as bad as I once did, but.  It’s hard to let it go.”

“CanIhugyou?” Patrick asks.

David burrows into him, letting Patrick soothe him with his strong hands and tender caresses.

“You know, you don’t have to ask before you hug me,” David says, gently teasing, even though he kind of loves that Patrick asked.

“I don’t want to screw up.”

“Please, this is <i>not</i> screwing up,” David says.  “You can ask me whatever you want.  Just not before ten a.m. next time.”  Patrick snorts in response, the callback not lost to him.

David extracts himself enough from their embrace to frame Patrick’s face with his hands and kiss him gently, cheering internally when Patrick kisses him back, soft lips moving against David’s and tongue darting out into David’s mouth.  “I love to kiss you,” he says, wanting to reassure Patrick that these moments that have meant so much to him are still good.  He drags his lips over Patrick’s jaw, his lips catching on Patrick’s morning stubble.  God, he doesn’t want to lose him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Patrick says, and David curses his early morning lack of filter.  “I love you.  I love this, being with you, being close.  We’ll figure it out.”  Patrick finds David’s eyes, and the confusion from the night before has been replaced with patented Patrick Brewer determination.  “I’m not leaving you, David.  Not over this.  Hopefully not over anything, but definitely not over this.  You don’t have to perform sexuality with me for us to be happy together.”

David can’t hide his smile, though he tries.  “I love it when you talk dirty.”

Patrick laughs, and David’s heart soars as Patrick presses silly kisses all over his face.  Maybe it’s going to be okay after all.

---------------

End notes:  T

he book Patrick reads is Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen, which I highly recommend.  It wasn’t published until just after the end of Season 6, but let’s handwave that.  It definitely helped this David explain asexuality to Patrick.  Another good resource is AVEN (Asexuality Visibility and Education Network), at https://www.asexuality.org/?q=overview.html.

Asexuality is experienced by different people in different ways.  This is just how I imagine David might experience it.