Alex and King sitting in a tree, kissing...
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Everything was fine and I had a puff or two of weed when he said, “Where do you see this going?”
I was like, “Excuse me?”
“Us,” he said. “Where do you see us going?”
I always do this, and I know it’s like a total personality flaw, but when confronted with an uncomfortable conversation I pretend to be clueless to stall and buy time. So I said, “Going? I thought you didn’t want to go out?”
“Not out out,” he said. “You know what I mean: us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, Alex, Us. As in where do you see our relationship heading or do you not see it heading anywhere other than the bedroom?”
Well that pretty much erased anymore chances I had at playing dumb. And I wanted to be honest but that answer would just sound stupid: I don’t know. So instead I decided to play coy, “Are you asking me to go steady with you?”
I know you’re probably cringing as you read this; believe me I’m cringing as I write it. Sometimes I just can’t control how fucking stupid I act. I mean here was this totally smart, handsome, sexy, sweet, witty guy lying naked in my bed, having dinner with me and asking me about the future of our relationship and I’m too fucking insecure or whatever to even give him a straight answer.
In response to my wiseass taunt, he said, “Would you if I asked?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “I guess you’d have to define steady.”
“Who cares how I define it? What do you want? What’s your end game?”
I don’t fucking know, I thought. Why was he asking me this now? “I don’t know my end game,” I said. “I totally like hanging out with you and I don’t want that to change.”
“Are you looking for a relationship?”
So I put down the roasted duck with pineapple curry and I forced myself to stop playing games. I told him the truth was that I really didn’t know. One the one hand, yes, I think that I want a boyfriend and someone to be a partner with and to grow old with and who knows, maybe even have a kid with; but on the other hand I love having nameless sex and seducing straight dudes and I don’t know that I want to give that up. I’m afraid of feeling restricted and like I’d have to give up part of myself to be in a relationship and I don’t know that I can do that. I know that’s totally selfish, I told him, I’m sure you’re like supposed to sacrifice and shit for relationships, but I figured what I’d have to sacrifice is what I like most.
I asked him what he wanted and what his goals were. He told me while he likes slutting around the city and meeting new guys for fun, kinky times, he really does hope to meet someone special, someone who he can be happy enough with to want to move past that phase of his life. He doesn’t want to be doing this forever, he’d like to move on, to settle down a bit, go to dinner with friends and be in bed by eleven on a Saturday night. Maybe just so he could be up early the next morning with his son…
I just listened and found him to be so sweet and sexy: lying there naked with just his feet under the sheets and a napkin covering his lap while he ate some of the grilled lemon grass chicken. “I don’t mean that I want to become a monk or anything,” he continued, “I just don’t want to hook-up my life away and miss the chance to really connect with the right guy.”
“I hear you,” I said, “I totally understand.” We traded the chicken for some noodles and I thought about how to respond. I think about shit like this all the time. My friends Lizzie or TJ hassle me about why I keep partying and hooking up so much and asking me when I’m going to settle on just one guy. But I don’t think I want just one guy; at least not just one guy for sex. I think one guy for a relationship could be cool, but I just don’t think I can give up the hot sex with multiple people. I didn’t tell him this but this is what I was thinking.
Then he leaned forward and spilled some of the noodles onto his chest. One of them clung to his pec, just under his nipple and I was looking at it when he said, “You might be that right guy, Alex.”
Oh shit, I thought. My heart started racing a mile and minute and I smiled as he leaned closer and kissed me. I kissed him back and he tasted like Thai sauces. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to fuck this up, to lose this guy, but is he the one? Why do I have to decide right this minute? Fuck….
The kiss ended and he pulled back and I said, “I think I’d be lucky to be that guy.” He smiled, pleased with my response but I felt instantly guilty. Had I just lied? Did I just tell him what I thought he wanted to hear? Do I love this guy? Do I want him to be it? I don’t fucking know. How are people supposed to know these things?
Thankfully, apparently satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, we moved to other topics and eventually finished dinner. We watched some TV and he stayed over and when I woke him at the ass-crack of dawn this morning, when I was going to the gym, half asleep he said, “Love you Alex.” And then turned his head into the pillow and went back to sleep.
Everything was fine and I had a puff or two of weed when he said, “Where do you see this going?”
I was like, “Excuse me?”
“Us,” he said. “Where do you see us going?”
I always do this, and I know it’s like a total personality flaw, but when confronted with an uncomfortable conversation I pretend to be clueless to stall and buy time. So I said, “Going? I thought you didn’t want to go out?”
“Not out out,” he said. “You know what I mean: us.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, Alex, Us. As in where do you see our relationship heading or do you not see it heading anywhere other than the bedroom?”
Well that pretty much erased anymore chances I had at playing dumb. And I wanted to be honest but that answer would just sound stupid: I don’t know. So instead I decided to play coy, “Are you asking me to go steady with you?”
I know you’re probably cringing as you read this; believe me I’m cringing as I write it. Sometimes I just can’t control how fucking stupid I act. I mean here was this totally smart, handsome, sexy, sweet, witty guy lying naked in my bed, having dinner with me and asking me about the future of our relationship and I’m too fucking insecure or whatever to even give him a straight answer.
In response to my wiseass taunt, he said, “Would you if I asked?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “I guess you’d have to define steady.”
“Who cares how I define it? What do you want? What’s your end game?”
I don’t fucking know, I thought. Why was he asking me this now? “I don’t know my end game,” I said. “I totally like hanging out with you and I don’t want that to change.”
“Are you looking for a relationship?”
So I put down the roasted duck with pineapple curry and I forced myself to stop playing games. I told him the truth was that I really didn’t know. One the one hand, yes, I think that I want a boyfriend and someone to be a partner with and to grow old with and who knows, maybe even have a kid with; but on the other hand I love having nameless sex and seducing straight dudes and I don’t know that I want to give that up. I’m afraid of feeling restricted and like I’d have to give up part of myself to be in a relationship and I don’t know that I can do that. I know that’s totally selfish, I told him, I’m sure you’re like supposed to sacrifice and shit for relationships, but I figured what I’d have to sacrifice is what I like most.
I asked him what he wanted and what his goals were. He told me while he likes slutting around the city and meeting new guys for fun, kinky times, he really does hope to meet someone special, someone who he can be happy enough with to want to move past that phase of his life. He doesn’t want to be doing this forever, he’d like to move on, to settle down a bit, go to dinner with friends and be in bed by eleven on a Saturday night. Maybe just so he could be up early the next morning with his son…
I just listened and found him to be so sweet and sexy: lying there naked with just his feet under the sheets and a napkin covering his lap while he ate some of the grilled lemon grass chicken. “I don’t mean that I want to become a monk or anything,” he continued, “I just don’t want to hook-up my life away and miss the chance to really connect with the right guy.”
“I hear you,” I said, “I totally understand.” We traded the chicken for some noodles and I thought about how to respond. I think about shit like this all the time. My friends Lizzie or TJ hassle me about why I keep partying and hooking up so much and asking me when I’m going to settle on just one guy. But I don’t think I want just one guy; at least not just one guy for sex. I think one guy for a relationship could be cool, but I just don’t think I can give up the hot sex with multiple people. I didn’t tell him this but this is what I was thinking.
Then he leaned forward and spilled some of the noodles onto his chest. One of them clung to his pec, just under his nipple and I was looking at it when he said, “You might be that right guy, Alex.”
Oh shit, I thought. My heart started racing a mile and minute and I smiled as he leaned closer and kissed me. I kissed him back and he tasted like Thai sauces. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to fuck this up, to lose this guy, but is he the one? Why do I have to decide right this minute? Fuck….
The kiss ended and he pulled back and I said, “I think I’d be lucky to be that guy.” He smiled, pleased with my response but I felt instantly guilty. Had I just lied? Did I just tell him what I thought he wanted to hear? Do I love this guy? Do I want him to be it? I don’t fucking know. How are people supposed to know these things?
Thankfully, apparently satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, we moved to other topics and eventually finished dinner. We watched some TV and he stayed over and when I woke him at the ass-crack of dawn this morning, when I was going to the gym, half asleep he said, “Love you Alex.” And then turned his head into the pillow and went back to sleep.
posted by cockoholick at 8:15 PM
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