Posts Tagged crush

I Never was Good at Sharing

As gay men, CK and I had been anticipating the release of Magic Mike with bated breath. One Friday night, CK suggested we check it out. When he said we, I assumed he meant just the two of us, but I quickly came to learn we included Old News as well. As long as we were inviting friends, I knew P wanted to see the movie as well, so I reached out to her. This was two-fold because it would also help balance the scale since I wasn’t exactly comfortable with how Old News was with CK. We were all planning to gather in midtown to check out a late showing.

I was meeting CK at his apartment before the movie, and when I arrived, I learned Old News would be meeting us there as well before walking to the theater together. I already couldn’t wait. From the moment Old News arrived, he began schmoozing CK. A friendly greeting with a hug is completely acceptable, but the kiss on the cheek was a little unnecessary. This was no air kiss, and I know because I was behind CK looking right at him as he did it. It probably was not his intent, but I felt it may have been done for my benefit. I didn’t like it — Not one bit. All I could do was stand by and watch this without saying anything. I would have to wait to have a private conversation with CK later.

Of course, he was very cordial toward me, but I couldn’t have cared less. I still had a bad taste left in my mouth from the last time we hung out at XL. That night, I was going to get the answer to a question that arose every time he came around. Was he actually flirting with CK because of lingering feelings, or was I imagining things? I had an advantage that night. I had two sets of eyes on him. I had asked P to watch and tell me if my suspicions were correct.

We met P in front of the theater, and as we took our seats, what transpired next could not have made me happier. It just so happened, as we walked into the theater, the order was Old News, myself, CK and finally P. So, when we sat, I was between Old News and CK, and I was thrilled. When CK and I go to the movies, we’re fairly affectionate in the way we sit. We hold hands or put our arms around each other. I wasn’t going to change that this time, and Old News was about to get a front row seat to this. Maybe he’d realized the CK ship has sailed. He was my man now, and it was time to back off and learn to simply be his friend. Nothing more. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t want Old News out of the picture completely. He was CK’s friend. I simply wanted him to respect the relationship between CK and I.

The theater was a sh*t show — Like being in an actual strip club. Women were everywhere, shouting and squealing at the screen as they jumped out of their seats in excitement. I was shocked I didn’t see a dollar bill or two go flying in the air.

As we left the theater, Old News commented to us, “Wow! It smells like wet vagina in here! Do you smell that?” I thought the comment was hysterical because he was pretty spot on, but I wasn’t exactly in the frame of mind to laugh at his jokes yet.

We stopped on the corner of the street to discuss what we wanted to do next. None of us had eaten, so food was discussed, but no one would make a decision. Finally, we landed on heading back to CK’s apartment to smoke and hang out.

As we walked down the street, Old News was joking and what I would certainly call flirting with CK. When the opportunity arose, he’d throw an arm around him or pat him on the back. Don’t get me wrong. I’d seen this interaction time and time again with Hip, and I had no problem with it. In fact, I welcomed it. It all seemed completely different with Old News. Old News would draw CK into a conversation, and the two of them continued on as if P and I didn’t exist. At some point, CK noticed I was a bit out of sorts. He hung back with me and asked what’s wrong. I reiterated how I felt Old News was flirting and still had a crush on him. Once again, he told me I was imagining things. I started to get adamant, and I think he finally realized how much this bothered me.

If he was willing to act like this in front of me, what would Old News try to do if I wasn’t around. Like I said, it wasn’t CK I trusted, it was Old News. After chatting for so long, I’m sure he realized something was up. We agreed to talk about it again later and returned back to the other two.

We hung out at CK’s for quite some time, and around 2:00am, we decided to go to Flaming Saddles, and P decided to head home. As I walked her out I asked her what she thought. She agreed he was still flirting, but to a bit of a lesser degree. It was all I needed to confirm I wasn’t being irrational. I thanked her and gave her a hug goodnight. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going out since it was already quite late, and we were going to the beach the following morning with Boston and a few others. As our group was shrinking by one, we were also growing by two. CK’s roommate and his assistant joined us. The night was only getting better and better.

When we arrived at Flaming Saddles, no one was there. Instead, we continued on to Industry. It was a good scene, and the good news was that CK and I were dancing. Old News seemed to disappear. However, it wasn’t long before I felt I was beginning to disappear too. I was slowly but surely getting comfortable with going to gay bars, but I was also learning something about CK in gay bars I didn’t exactly appreciate.

When we danced, I never felt like I was dancing with just him. I felt like I was dancing with the entire bar. He danced, and I was tried to dance next to him. He constantly looked around to see who was looking at him, gently touching guys as they passed by him. I never had his full attention. This was only exacerbated when he stepped up on the stage, and I was two steps below him. I felt like I was there with a go-go boy, and I have to admit I was a little crushed. It hurt. Was my attention not enough for him? Did he need the eyes of every other guy in the room? This brought up a lot of worries I’d been having about our relationship. I was worried I wasn’t enough for him, and that was all I wanted.

We ended up closing down the bar at 4:00am. We were all starving, so we foraged for food. We settled on Empanada Mama and grabbed a table outside. They had a packed house, so it took forever for us to get our food. When it finally arrived, everyone dug in. When I went to grab my second empanada, it was gone. I looked across the table and noticed Old News shoveling it into his pie hole. I don’t think he took it on purpose, but it was a perfect picture of my relationship with him. First, he was trying to steal my man. Now, he was stealing my food.

I was already agitated by Old News, but at this point, it was 6:00am and the sun was starting to come up. As the time ticked on, I grew more and more anxious about getting up the next day to follow through on my plans. CK was already so tired he actually fell asleep at the table. It was time to go home and go to bed. We said goodbye and made our way home. While we walked he turned to me and said, “You’re nuts if you think we’re heading to the beach tomorrow at 10:00.” That set me off. I told CK about my plans to go to the beach days prior to this. He should have planned accordingly. This was important to me. I hadn’t seen Boston in over a year. He was completely disregarding my plans, and I was furious. “You’re nuts if you think we’re not.” He looked at me with a confused look.

I explained how upset I was and of course started getting loud. The fact that he remembered the beach plans and completely disregarded them was incredibly demeaning. In doing so, he was telling me that his unplanned fun mattered and my planned day did not. We could have called it quits at any point throughout the night so we could have done a bit of both. Had he brought it up before 6:00am, I probably would have been receptive of a compromise. I would have said we could leave around 11:00 so we could stay out a little later. At this point, after being told I’m nuts, I wasn’t about to give up any ground. I told him I was going, with or without him. I had made plans with a friend visiting from out-of-town, and I wasn’t about to back out because he wanted to stay out all night.

Against the advice of nearly every couple I’ve ever met, that night (or should I say morning) we went to bed angry…

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Suspicions Raised

Let me first start off today’s post by apologizing for my extended absence. I’ve been quite busy as of late and have a lot going on in my life right now. I promise you I will make a more concerted effort to dedicate time to the blog. I am truly touched by those who reached out to me expressing both concern and unhappiness regarding the lack of posts. I will do my bet not to let you down. That being said, on with the show…

I’d been dating CK for 2.5 months. To some, that may seem like a long time. To others, it’s the lifespan of a fruit fly. For me, I didn’t see it as a definitive amount of time. I saw it as a period during which my relationship was growing and evolving. Over the course of that time, I was learning. I was learning a lot about CK and about myself. I was learning what it takes to be in a real relationship of substance. I was trying to do things the right way this time, however, there is no right way. You just make it work. I was struggling with trusting CK.

I was constantly aware of the medium in which we were introduced to each other, and I was relatively aware of CK’s past. They didn’t instill the greatest of confidence in me. On top of that, I was still carrying issues with me from the other men who hurt me. I’m sure, by now, you’re tired of hearing about that, but I can guarantee you weren’t as tired of carrying that around as I was.

I had a few suspicions. I chalked them up to my over-active imagination, and I managed to put them aside.

One thing CK and I differed on was gay friends. I didn’t really have too many of them in my posse. Sure, Boston always gave me sage advice, and one of my volleyball teammates I’d known since high school was gay, but it’s not even enough to field a full team. Since I didn’t have too many gay friends, I never did get some of the idiosyncrasies that came with them, such as calling my gay male friends gerrlll. It just wasn’t part of my vernacular. But, one slow day at work, I pulled out my headphones and watched The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert on HBOGo, and finally I got it. It made sense to me. I didn’t see myself throwing it around all the time, but I finally got the bond it signified.

Speaking of gay friends, one of the few I had was visiting New York that weekend. It’d been a long time since I last saw Boston. I was very excited anticipating his arrival. I hoped we could hang out while he was in town. We’d both gotten rather busy, and we found it hard to make sure we kept in touch. However, he wasn’t arriving until the weekend.

Friday morning, I woke up to the sound of CK’s alarm blasting while he laid sound asleep. I roused him to turn it off, and I was wide awake. I motivated us to get out of bed and toss around the medicine ball while watching TV and eating breakfast. When we finished, my blood was flowing, and I was feeling rather frisky. I attempted to seduce CK, and it worked. We had less than little time since we’d already leisurely worked out and ate, but I could tell he was also feeling frisky. I didn’t have to go to work because I had a random day off, but CK did. He conceded to having sex, but insisted I give him a ride to the PATH on my motorcycle before we continued. It was a deal.

With that, I pounced. There was little I enjoyed more than morning sex. I was almost always horny and raring to go first thing, but after working out, I certainly needed a release. We had GREAT sex that morning. It was passionate and rough and gentle in all the right ways. I couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t keep my hands off him. As amazing as it was, the clock was ticking, and CK had a meeting to get to at work. We needed to stop. That certainly wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I knew it was the right thing to do. We hopped in the shower, and he finished getting ready for work.

When he was ready, I drove him to the PATH and kissed him goodbye. I sped home and finished myself off. It was all I could do to last that long. He really got me going, and like I said, I needed a release. After all the foreplay and sex with CK, the explosion was quite forceful and bountiful. It was a shame he wasn’t there to witness it.

CK texted me from work asking me if I wanted to see Magic Mike that night. I figured it’d be a really fun experience for us to go, so I was definitely in. What I wasn’t aware of was that he was planning to invite his old fling, Old News. I wasn’t thrilled with this idea, but I went with it because he was a friend. What I was thrilled with was Hip and Old News setting up a date, but when I learned that never really took off, I was disappointed. I didn’t really have anything against him. He was a nice guy, but he was a nice guy who happened to like my man. This was going to be part of growing for me. I needed to learn to trust him. But, it wasn’t really CK who I didn’t trust — It was Old News. In the few interactions I had with him, it was clear to me he wasn’t over CK yet. He wanted more, and I was clearly in the way of that. When CK opened up movie night to other friends, I did the same. I reached out to P to see if she wanted to join us, and I was thrilled to hear she would be joining us.

Before we went into the city to meet up with the other two, I prepped P. I asked her to do me a favor. I asked her to watch the interaction between CK and Old News. I wanted someone else’s perspective on the situation. I needed to know if it was just my imagination or something I needed to keep an eye on. She agreed to observe and report back.

P wasn’t the only one to whom I’d brought attention to my issue with Old News. CK knew I thought he still had a crush on him, but he was in denial. He didn’t agree with me. He pointed out the frank conversation they’d had in which CK explained to him extensively their friendship and nothing more. I wasn’t convinced, and that night, someone else would determine for me once and for all how to proceed with Old News.

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Matinee Street Team

CK and I arrived home, and after a night of shirtless dancing together, we were both ready to get down and dirty. Our night out with Old News was a little disappointing and frustrating for me, but I put it all in perspective for myself. CK loved me, and he came home with me. He no longer lived in the same building as Old News, and I hoped they saw very little of each other when I wasn’t around. I had no reason not to trust CK with him. After all, it was he who told me about their failed plan to move in together when Old News professed his feelings for him. We’d only been on a handful of dates at the time, but he felt comfortable telling me about their brief history.

Anyway, back to the good stuff. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were barely in the door before CK started pillaging my body. He was stripping my clothes from my body as we both moved toward the bed. I got him down to his briefs before he shoved me backward onto the bed. He pounced like a jungle cat, and we began to roll around on the bed furiously. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. They were exploring every inch of the other’s body.

At first he was on top, and then I was on top. Our positions changed by the minute. Things were incredibly passionate, and what ensued was the best sex we’d had to date. It was raw and sexy, passionate and dirty. We were both enjoying ourselves immensely, climaxing in turn.

We laid next to each other as beads of sweat ran across our bodies. The sex was HOT! We were both exhausted since it was late, and we had a long night at the club. We passed out like rocks until the morning.

When we woke in the morning, we had a busy day ahead of ourselves. We got up, showered and made our way out the door. I was starving. While CK was on his cleanse, drinking a shake, I needed real food. Since I was watching what I ate, we stopped at Subway on the way to his friends’ apartment. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this after the way his friend treated me, however, I was going to be the better man. I would kill him with kindness.

When we arrived, I got a tepid welcome from his friend. Hip, however, was thrilled to see me and gave me a big hug. We sat and chatted a bit about our plans for the rest of the day. Although his friend bought he and his boyfriend tickets to Matinee that evening, he decided not to go. Everyone else tried to convince him to come, to no avail. He wasn’t budging. Hip, on the other hand, wasn’t planning to go since it wasn’t that long ago he had hip replacement surgery. With some gentle prodding, we convinced him to join us. I was utterly thrilled. I needed a bit of a security blanket for this event. I was freaking out a little inside, and having another friend there would be key to my sanity. It also worked out for Hip and I because we were able to buy the unused tickets, but that’s another story for another time.

CK and I were on a schedule. Unbeknownst to me, CK had volunteered us to be a part of some street team for Matinee. I had no idea what he’d gotten us into. I already wasn’t entirely comfortable with the weekend ahead, and he wasn’t making it easier by surprising me with activities.

We made our way to Columbus Circle to meet up with a friend of a friend of someone he chatted with on Twitter. I still had no idea what we were doing, and CK wasn’t even waiting for me to cross the street. I stood on one side of the street watching him walk away completely oblivious to my lack of presence as he ran in front of cars talking on his phone. I was really starting to get annoyed. He wasn’t taking my feelings into consideration at all.

About 30 yards later, he realized I wasn’t there and finally turned around to look for me. By then, I was approaching him after the light changed. I don’t think my faced could have shown more apathy than it did in that moment. I asked him what we were doing and who we were looking for, and finally I got some answers, vague as they were. “We’re looking for a bunch of hot boys handing out flyers. We’re going to help hand out flyers or something,” he said. We searched all over Columbus Circle for these guys, even venturing underground to Equinox.

Finally, we managed to meet up with them. There was an adorably mismatched couple, a black diva and a Brooklyn hipster. While we waited for them to get their act in gear, I stood analyzing the couple. I was a little fascinated by them. They obviously both worked out a lot, but one was an energetic, tiny guy, and the other a soft-spoken, burly bear. I was very curious who was the top and who was the bottom, but I dared not ask.

Apparently, I was going to fully embrace the essence of pride. The plan was for us to canvas Hell’s Kitchen, handing out flyers to passersby while we made a ruckus to draw attention. We were outfitted with t-shirts, buttons, hats, large signs, water guns, flyers and more. I took a t-shirt and followed everyone else’s lead, customizing my shirt by ripping and tearing it. I felt very self-conscious, but I tried to embrace it. There was no getting out of this, so I needed to make the best of it. I took a large stack of flyers and started handing them out to every guy we passed and placed them on every surface I could.

Along the way, we made a few stops at stores and made some new friends. I was actually starting to have fun with my new street brigade. The burly bear still fascinated me. This wasn’t because I had a crush on him or anything. I’m just a people watcher, and I was noticing how shy this big beefy dude was. I also learned his boyfriend was one of the dancers on the stage the night before at XL. We stopped at Tagg to say hi to some guys selling apparel on the sidewalk in front of the store. They told us they had a free open bar and invited us to take advantage. I wasn’t ready to drink yet, but I thought maybe it might loosen me up.

We continued down Ninth Avenue, handing out flyers and stopping in more stores. While in Universal Gear, CK fell in love with a pair of booty shorts. The rest of the crew was ready to keep on keeping on, but in true fashion, CK was stopping to try them on. He decided he “absolutely NEEDED” to wear them to Matinee that night. Naturally. I went outside to hang with the rest of the crew while he stood in line to pay, telling them they could move on, and we’d catch up.

Eventually, CK emerged elated, and we were on our way. Hip joined us for the last leg of our journey. We had fun together, messing around until we reached our final stop.

I am delighted to say, I actually had a good time promoting. Normally, that sort of thing is my biggest nightmare. But, by embracing the experience fully, I was able to let go and have fun; I simply stopped caring!

When we finished our promotion journey, we made our way back to CK’s apartment to get ready. Little did I know what exactly that would entail, but I knew the night was only going to get crazier and more stressful from there.

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His Mother’s Day

The day after my birthday, CK and I made plans for me to meet his mother while she was in town. I celebrated my birthday the day before without him, but I still managed to have fun. I was incredibly excited to see him. I was also incredibly honored to meet his mother. I couldn’t believe he felt comfortable introducing me to her exactly one month from the date we first met, however, we’d grown extremely close in that short period of time.

There was a plan for me to meet CK, his mother, and three of his friends at Essex and Beauty on the Lower East Side for brunch. It was Mother’s Day, so I knew wherever we were going was going to be a sh*tshow! I was slightly anxious. I was more nervous about meeting the one friend I’d never met before than I was about his mother. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t feel any pressure there. I was pretty relaxed about it. Either way, I was missing my Superman terribly.

I arrived a few minutes late for our reservation. CK and his mother were still in transport, but the three friends had already sat at the table. One of them came to the front to greet me and take me to the table. I’d met him before when we all went to see Avengers together. As we ascended the staircase to our table, he informed me of a problem in the kitchen. He mentioned something about a leak and having to shut the kitchen down. There was new immediacy to our plans.

Per usual, CK was running quite late. I learned they were in a cab, but they were on the other side of Manhattan, however, he shared the good news he finally found a new apartment. It wasn’t in Brooklyn. It wasn’t on the Lower East Side. It was in Hell’s Kitchen. I was thrilled!!

We learned they wouldn’t arrive in time for us to order, and one of the friends began to protest in uproar. He argued with the staff until he learned of the true nature of the problem. The maître d’ offered to walk us over to their sister restaurant, The Stanton Social to ensure we got a table and were served quickly.

On the walk over, we happened upon CK and his mother getting out of their cab. He was in the process of calling me. I said hi to him and was introduced to his mother. She wasn’t what I expected at all. I’m not sure what my expectations were, but she certainly surpassed them. She was gorgeous and very lively. I immediately loved her spirit and energy.

We continued to the other restaurant. Not only did we get a table quickly, we were also served champagne to start. They more than made up for the inconvenience. On top of that, I feel we upgraded restaurants, not downgraded.

His mother took the time to hug all the other boys and say hi. She knew two of them from Miami, where CK grew up, so there was some catching up to do. CK was rather reserved in regards to PDA. We didn’t kiss, but I got a hefty hug. He whispered in my ear how much he missed me. We held hands under the table nearly the entire meal.

It was very nice being with everyone. The conversation flowed, and there was rarely an awkward moment. Our food was excellent, and we all enjoyed our meal. I was worried I’d feel like an outsider, not because his friends wouldn’t include me, but because they all already knew each other. I was the new guy. I didn’t know the stories. I didn’t know the inside jokes. That would take time. Generally, until I’m comfortable, I get quiet. I was worried they would think I was antisocial, which clearly isn’t the case.

If they hadn’t done enough to ensure we had a great experience, our lovely waitress brought us a plate of complimentary donuts to make up for what happened at Essex and Beauty.

I really loved watching CK and his mother interact. She had a nickname she called him, and I found it adorable. They shared a lot of the same mannerisms. I watched her keep him in line (and made sure I took mental notes). They were incredible together, even with the hell they went through over that weekend to find him a new apartment. It was obvious the copious amounts of love they shared.

When we exited the restaurant, his mother returned to go to the bathroom. He took the opportunity to pull me in and give me the biggest kiss. It was quite a scene, but we didn’t care. His friends made comments, and he pointed out how he wouldn’t kiss me in front of his mother. Apparently, it made her slightly uncomfortable when he “flaunted his homosexuality.” I thought this was funny, because it’s the kind of thing I could hear coming out of my mother’s mouth.

I also learned that when I went to the restroom while we were eating, his mother expressed her approval to him. “He’s really cute,” he told me she added.

When she came back outside, we made plans to go back to his place and spend the rest of the evening on his roof watching the sunset. We stopped for a bottle of wine and some beers and went up to the roof with the batch of cookies I baked for his mother. Before heading up to the roof, CK and one of his friends were talking in the kitchen. That left myself and his mother in his living room to chat. I learned about all her dogs, as well as CK’s dog all living under her care. She told me how early she had to get up to take care of them the morning she flew out. We talked about what it takes to raise a dog and discussed CK’s desire to get a dog. He was constantly trying to take me shopping for a dog, but I couldn’t take care of one on my own. I wouldn’t have a dog until I lived with someone who would help me raise it. Maybe CK could fill that roll one day.

We spent a lot of time talking about cooking. CK’s friend was an avid cook, so we had a lot to chat about. I showed him my massive digital cookbook I created. I learned where CK inherited his lack of cooking skills. Apparently, his mother was a self-admitted non-chef. She barely cooked, so the two of them discussed their lack of skill in the kitchen, however, each had their specialty they could cook. I expressed my plan to teach CK how to cook, but ensure he wouldn’t cut his finger off again under my supervision.

After a while, a guy CK used to hook up with who lived in the building joined us. CK privately made a comment to me when we were downstairs how he may have seen us all through the window. He mentioned inviting him to join us, and I didn’t protest. My guard was up however. I had no idea how he’d treat me. After all, I was the one who got the man he had a crush on. They were almost roommates until it came to light he had a crush on CK, who told me he did not share the same feelings.

In the end, this guy was pretty cool. He wasn’t combative toward me in the slightest, and we actually got along. The conversation continued through the night. When this guy left, CK made an attempt to set him up with the friend who joined us from brunch. I really liked this guy. He seemed to get it. He was very realistic and had a great sense of humor. Of the friends I’d met so far, he was the one I felt I would get along with the best. When the old hookup left, CK’s friend called him to set up a date. This also killed two birds with one bullet. The old hookup would be tied up and would stay away from my man. Yes, I was getting territorial.

CK’s mother told us stories about him when he was a child, and I was really enjoying getting to know him, his mother and his friends. It was starting to get late, and CK and his mother still needed to get dinner. I needed to get home and get ready for work the next day. I too needed to eat something other than cookies. I said goodbye to CK’s mother with a big hug and CK walked me to the door.

We talked about how much we couldn’t wait until his mother left, not because either of us were tired of her, but because we were hungry for each other. We hadn’t slept together in days, and our animal instincts were growling. I said goodbye to him with a big kiss and made my way to the PATH to head home.

It was a very successful weekend. I had a great birthday, and apparently, I was a hit with CK’s mother. The whole day was a big success. I was all the more excited to be a bigger part of CK’s life, and I couldn’t wait for the next moment.

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Meeting the Hatfields

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

Southern Drawl was very anxious to see me. Before our last date ended, he asked me, “So, when do you get to see me again?” It was a bit egotistical, but it was also a little cute.

I had plans with other guys for the rest of the week with the exception of my volleyball game on Thursday. We agreed to do happy hour after work on Friday to get the weekend started off right. He was going to the Frying Pan, a permanently parked barge on the Hudson River that doubles as a restaurant/outdoor bar, with a group of his coworkers. Apparently, he was comfortable enough to introduce me to them.

He was already there when I made my way across town to meet him. He worked right across the street, so there was a solid crowd present from work. I found them in the crowd and pulled up a chair to the table. Everyone was very welcoming and nice. They immediately offered me a cup of sangria, and I settled in. I joined the big conversation, and Southern Drawl and I had a few side conversations not meant for the table.

I wasn’t sure to what extent he was out to his coworkers, so I played a vague roll. I didn’t show any signs of affection or do anything that would be a severe tell. I had a good time.

When everyone was ready to go, we started walking. We were heading to his apartment, but we walked with the others until they peeled off to head in separate directions. It was then I was informed that this was a big deal. None of the other guys he dated had met his coworkers. Only one or two of them knew he was gay, so this was somewhat of a public coming out. I’m sure his coworkers would put two and two together if he was inviting a man to join them for drinks. It was flattering he was willing to do that with me.

Since before I met S.D. in person, I’d learned of his incredibly flamboyant and promiscuous roommate. We talked about him to quite an extent on the walk.

I could not have been prepared for his apartment when I walked in there. It was an utter dump! His roommate was lounging on the couch when we arrived. S.D. needed to change before we went out for the rest of the evening. I chatted a bit with his roommate, and he certainly had a strong unwarranted air of superiority. We didn’t get along, but we didn’t clash either. He was a non-entity to me.

Meanwhile, I made a comment about S.D.’s shoes, and I was ripped a new one. He went off on me how expensive they were and how dare I downplay them. I was dying to get out of that apartment, and S.D. was dragging his feet.

He told me his friends from back home in the south were going to be out on the Lower East Side since one of them worked at Brother Jimmy’s. We decided to pick a place in the neighborhood to grab dinner before drinking our faces off. We found a nice Italian restaurant, Pete’s Tavern and shared a delicious pleasant meal. Things were starting to feel comfortable with him. All the awkwardness melted away. We had great conversation and kept each other on our toes. The conversation was great, but I began to wonder if I was sexually attracted to him. When he sent pictures to me, I found him to be quite attractive, but since being with him, I didn’t get excited or aroused by him. We hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, but I wondered if when I came to that bridge, would I even want to cross it. On top of that, we hadn’t discussed positions since we first spoke on the phone. He told me he didn’t have much experience in the bedroom originally. He said he never really bottomed, but he may be willing to experience it. Since then, I got a different picture learning about the long-term relationships he’d been in. I wondered if they were sexless, or was he lying. We were two tops, and that was going to pose a problem as some point.

After we finished dinner, we walked to Brother Jimmy’s to meet his friends. He was excited to introduce me to them. They’d already seen pictures of me and predicted I was a far better man for him to date than the one he just let go. They already loved me before even meeting them, so it was my game to lose.

S.D. introduced me to them, and we hit it off pretty swimmingly. His best friend, a female, pulled me aside to talk and gossip. We chatted, and she expressed how much she liked me. “You’re just the right amount of gay,” I was told. I’d always thought that about myself, but it was still interesting hearing someone say this to me. Even the friend, the girl who was working behind the bar planted a kiss on me, right on the lips. It was a pleasant surprise. I was a hit!

S.D. also told me his friend from work, “his little buddy,” was joining us. This kid was gay and even lived with S.D. on the couch for a period. They were very close and best friends of sorts. When this kid arrived, I was introduced to him. He seemed very nice, and we exchanged small talk. Almost immediately, S.D. and he separated from the group and began chatting the night away. It was obvious to me S.D. had a crush on him. I wondered if the little guy just wasn’t interested in S.D. and that was the hangup for why they weren’t together. I felt incredibly neglected. I was getting quite drunk, and that usually peaks my emotional state. I was very close to walking out the door and going home without a word but better judgment kicked in.

After we watched someone who looked like Snookie do an amazing rendition of Adele for karaoke, I was ready to go home. I was drunk, and I was trying to see past how he ignored me. Even after all I drank, the bartender charged me seven dollars.  I’m still not 100% sure why, but I asked S.D. if he wanted to come back to my place and spend the night. I think I wanted to test our sexual chemistry. I wasn’t looking for sex. Clearly that wasn’t possible in the state I was in. I just wanted to get somewhat physical with him.

We made out way back to my place and quietly made our way to my room. We climbed into bed to spoon, and I passed out quickly.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. When we woke up in the morning, we started spooning and fooling around. There was a lot of heavy petting and oral pleasuring. It wasn’t long before he was straddling my chest fondling himself. It also wasn’t long before he excited himself so much he finished right on my chest. He asked for my permission, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen almost immediately.

We lounged in bed for some time before I made us breakfast. There was a bit of a schedule for the morning, however. My parents were coming into town for Easter weekend. I needed to get him out of there before they arrived. Just as we finished eating, I got a call from my parents. They were downstairs. I told S.D. to quickly get dressed and make his way down the back stairwell. He was fine with this, and we agreed we’d chat later on the phone. I hustled him out the door and kissed him goodbye.

One minute later, I threw on flip-flops and went down to greet my parents. They didn’t make a single comment about the guy leaving my building. I had yet another celibate weekend in front of me, and this was a good thing.

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Gym Hottie

Since my breakup with Smiles, I’ve been making greater efforts to spend more time with friends. I didn’t neglect them while I was dating him, but I certainly didn’t shower them with attention either. They’re very important to me, and I wanted to make sure they knew they were appreciated. Of course, I also just loved hanging out with them, otherwise they wouldn’t be my friends.

One of my old roommates asked me if I wanted to go out to the bar. It’d been a long time since he’d done this. It came quite out of the blue, but I was very happy for the invitation. Since we don’t live together, we get along much better. It wasn’t that we fought all the time while we lived together or anything. It’s just much simpler now. I look forward to bar nights with him.

At the same time, one of the girls who I know from my annual Martha’s Vineyard trips was planning a birthday gathering the same night a block from my office. I asked my old roommate if he minded going there for happy hour. I thought it would make things convenient so I could spend time with both. It’d been a long time since I caught up with both friends.

My old roommate and I arrived at the bar early. We made our way through the crowd at Gingerman to the bar to order some beers. I offered to pick up the first round, as I generally do. I handed him his beer and we cheersed. It was at that moment I learned it was his birthday. I had no idea until he said something. I felt like such a sh*t. He was a close friend, and I was usually up on that sort of thing. I have everyone’s birthday in my phone, so I checked to see how I missed the date. It turned out I didn’t have his birthday in there, but with more investigation, I had scheduled it a month later on the same date. I told him how bad I felt, but also added, “At least I offered to buy the round! Haha.” He laughed and quickly forgave my mistake. I thought about it for a second, and realized I was the only one meeting him for drinks. I was the one he wanted to spend his birthday with. I was touched and happy.

We stood by the door because it was the only place we could stand, drink and have a discussion. He told me his plans to go to Atlantic City that weekend for his birthday with a busload of people. I wished him luck since it sounded like such a complicated situation.

After some time, the birthday girl arrived. She came in and gave me a big hug. I introduced her to my old roommate, and we quickly caught up. She decided to make her way to the back of the bar to see if she could grab a table when the bouncer chased us away from the front door. My old roommate and I had already been back there and knew there were no tables, so I let her find out for herself after telling her that. He and I made our way to the front corner of the bar. Just as we did, a couch opened up. I texted the birthday girl to come join us. About ten minutes later, she finally did and brought the rest of her group over.

I talked with my old roommate as more and more people filtered in. It was becoming an intimate little circle. I introduced him to everyone that joined that I knew. When the evening was dragging on, I decided I was read to head home. I had to take equipment home from work, so I was going to book a car service from my office. I invited my old roommate to join me since he still lives in Hoboken as well, and he accepted. I pointed out how I bought all his drinks and provided him a ride home, proving I wasn’t a bad friend who forgot his birthday after all.

We said goodbye to the birthday girl and the rest of the group. She pulled me aside and told me how cute he was. I explained to her he wasn’t a love interest. I pointed out how she’d met him at my Christmas parties, as well as his girlfriend. She was so confused, but I realized what happened. He was guilty by association. Because he was sitting on the couch with me, and because of my status as a gay man, everyone who knew this bit of information also assumed he was gay as well.

As we walked to the car, I pointed out to him what happened. Even though there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, I apologized to him for it. He was oblivious to it, and he laughed it off.

That night, I also had to say goodbye to another ex-roommate. He was still a good friend and tennis partner. He was moving to San Francisco for work, which meant I would probably see him once a year like my other San Francisco friends. I was very sad to see another friend go. Slowly but surely, all my friends were moving away or pairing up and falling off the face of the earth. I know this is part of getting older, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.

My sister and I went to the bar where he and his friends were gathering. It was nice to get to see him since it had been so long. He’d been quite busy with his new job, but now I’d see even less of him. After I got to chat with him for a bit, I texted my other friends, D and his girlfriend and asked what they were up to. They wanted to meet up for drinks, so we decided to go to Cooper’s Union, where I know the owner and bartender.

We met them there, and the whole lot of us wasn’t charged for a single drink the entire night. He always took great care of me and my friends when he worked at my usual watering hole. Now that he branched off and opened his own bar, the attention only got better.

I had a great time with everyone that night. I got to see so many of my friends. Normally I’m too lazy to do any of these things. I always bail last minute out of selfishness, but I was trying to be better about it. It was already paying off. I had a really great time.

In the middle of all this, a gorgeous man walked into the bar. I’d seen him many times before. I’d actually seen quite a bit of him as well. He was a usual at my favorite bar, and he was a usual at my gym in the city. Apparently we both lived in Hoboken, and we both worked in the same neighborhood. I’d had a crush on him for a looonnnggg time, but had a very strong feeling he was straight. He was still gorgeous and fun to look at.

At the same time, I noticed he caught my sister’s eye as well. It’s ironic, but we have the same taste in men periodically. We both acknowledged shared interest in him, but I pointed out to her it wasn’t even worth a battle. She’d already won. There was almost no question in my mind he was straight “How do you know?” she asked. “I can just tell. But, I can also tell you he looks great with no clothes on — At least from the backside anyway,” I added. We both laughed and she continued to ogle him from afar. I did as well, but I was much more discreet about it.

When I was tired and it was time to go home, I gathered everyone to make our way home. Of course I wasn’t going to walk out without paying. I gathered cash from everyone and handed him a wad of cash before walking out the door.

I had a great night. I saw a lot of my friends in one night, I got to scope out a hottie I’ve had my eye on, and I had cheap drinks. Maybe single life was working out well for me. Maybe it was time I tried that for a while… Maybe not…

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After an afternoon romp in the sheets, Smiles and I hopped on my motorcycle and rode out to Brooklyn for the day.

Smiles has a ’68 Ford Mustang parked in a garage out there, and it hadn’t been run in a few months. He wanted to make sure it would still start and take it around the block. I was thrilled because I was finally going to get to see the car! I had a crush on that car from the moment I learned of its existence, and Smiles knew this. I thought it made him sexier, and it turned me on.

Smiles rode on the back of my motorcycle clutching onto me as we rode over the Williamsburg Bridge and around Brooklyn. It was the first time had gone for a ride longer than a few blocks. I really enjoy riding with him on the bike.

We arrived at the garage and removed the cover from the car. I immediately took my phone out and began snapping pictures with my phone. I put my bike in his parking spot while he pulled the car out of the garage. I tossed my helmet in the back seat and hopped in. I immediately reached over and gave his thigh a squeeze to show him my appreciation and excitement.

As we drove down the street, every single person we passed by was enamored by the car. A kid stopped in the middle of the street with his mouth gaping as he watched the car come closer until he realized he was in the middle of the street. One man even took out his camera and snapped pictures while we sat at a stoplight. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with a crush on this car.

He proposed we grab lunch somewhere fun, so we scoped out the neighborhood as we drove. We found a parking space and decided to walk around a bit until we found a pub to grab food in, Spike Hill. We settled in, and as per usual, Smiles started chatting up the waitress. After we ordered, unbeknownst to me, he asked her, “Do you know anywhere in the neighborhood where he could get his haircut fixed.” I wasn’t thrilled with paying to have my hair fixed. I was complacent to just let it grow out, but Smiles was pretty persistent.

She gave us directions to a barber up the street, Brooklyn General Barber Emporium, and I begrudgingly agreed to partake in the hair repair excursion.

We got to the barber shop, and from the looks of it, I was a little worried. They weren’t exactly welcoming either. There was a long wait, so we decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood to kill time.

Smiles was interested in opening a bar in the area, so we scoped out some possible locations and realtors. We also popped into some cool hipster shops.

While in one of them, there were two gay men working together making a hysterical fuss. “You got to open one, so I want to open one too. It’s only fair.” “Is this the hunter green one?” “No, stupid! That one is just green.” “Well what about this one?” “That one is celery.” I couldn’t stop laughing at their commentary. I also noticed a poster on the wall I found very humorous. I was very close to buying it, if only I had someone I could give it to who would actually display it.

The time came to go back to the barber. It was getting dark, so I told Smiles we didn’t have to do it that evening. But once again, he was pretty insistent.

Finally it was my turn in the chair. I ended up with the female stylist who asked what I wanted done. She was extremely nice and full of energy. However, I use the term she loosely. I couldn’t be sure 100%, but I had my suspicions she wasn’t always a she. Regardless, she was a doll. Smiles stood in the wings while I explained what happened and what I wanted done. “Oh honey! What happened to you!? I could have done a better job drunk! You want me to butch you up?” she said. “YES!” Smiles said from behind me.

Once she started, Smiles returned to his seat intently watching her cut my hair. I found it extremely cute and adorable how he took an interest in my appearance. She asked me, “Is that your boyfriend?” I simply replied, “Yes.” Then she excused herself for the question on the off-chance I wasn’t actually gay. I told her, “No harm, no foul.”

In the end, Smiles and I were both very happy with my new haircut. I thought I was going to be very uncomfortable with it since it was so much shorter than I usually cut my hair, but I was thrilled and shocked. She really did a great job fixing my cut.

We also took the walk back to the car as an opportunity to discuss the status of my barber. He agreed that miss used to be a mister.

On the way to the garage, Smiles proposed going to see the new Twilight movie. I was surprised, because usually at this point, I get the boot. I thought I was going home after I dropped him off because he’d have plans with a friend, but that wasn’t the case. I explained to him I’d never seen any of the Twilight movies, so I was worried I’d be a little lost, but I told him I was willing if he got me caught up. He took the time to explain what I’d missed. We rode back to the garage, swapped the car for the bike and made our way back to Manhattan…

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Your Cheating Heart

Saturday, I woke up fairly later in the morning. N was still sleeping in my bed, and Boston was still sleeping on the couch when I started to make breakfast. I fried up some frozen homemade sausage patties and eggs. In the meantime, my two favorite men woke up and joined me in the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee, and we sat and ate. Boston and I planned to go into the city for the day. He hadn’t been to the city in ten years. He is in music school and asked to check out the original Steinway store to play on some of their finest pianos. We invited N to join, but his plans included shaving his back and getting a haircut.

When breakfast ended, N and I went into my room and fooled around. I was horny since we didn’t do anything the night before and hungry for real sex. But, N wasn’t 100% cooperative. “I feel bad that Boston is out there alone right now. Ya know, we could let him watch,” he said with a wink and a smile. I just laughed it off and continued with my heavy petting. (I did feel bad for Boston because he got out of the shower and all his clean clothes were in my bedroom.) When I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen, we stopped. N went home to get ready for his day of primping, and I showered to get ready for the city. (I would later come to find N accusing me of hooking up with Boston at this point)

When Boston and I arrived in the city, we came upon a street fair. We walked around and got lunch. Following, I showed him some of the major attractions. It was really nice just relaxing with Boston and walking around the city. He started to feel like a little brother. Finally we arrived at the Steinway and Son’s a half hour before they were about to close for a recital. Boston sat at a few of the pianos and blew me away with his talent. I told him if he ever wanted to impress a guy, he should take him to a piano store and it would be in the bag.

We also stopped into to Saks to visit one of Boston’s old friends. We said hi, and he invited us to a house party and a drag show at a bar on the lower east side, Drom.

On the walk back to Port Authority, we passed a few of the pianos sprinkled around the city. I made Boston sit and play after The Naked Cowboy finished tinkering in Times Square. He ended up being filmed by the man in charge of documenting the project. Overall, I’d say it was a good day for Boston.

When we got back to Hoboken, we got dressed to go out and went to my friend K’s for a bbq. We were skipping the house party, but were going to meet them at Drom.

Likewise, N had plans for the night. Originally, he told me he was going out to dinner with friends and they didn’t know if they were staying in the city or coming back to Hoboken. To me, this meant straight friends. I figured i received no details because he wasn’t out to his- fellow diners. I was wrong. As the day went on, I received more details. He was going to dinner with eight gay men, and then it evolved into them going to Industry, a gay bar.

I asked him if it was an issue if we met up at Industry until Boston’s friends went to the lower east side. He told me to come. When Industry had a long line, they decided to go to Ritz, not my favorite bar. Boston and I finished at the bbq and headed to Ritz. On the walk there from Port Authority, I expressed my concerns about N and the night. I told him how shady it felt since he was being somewhat secretive. When we arrived, N’s phone was dying. I tried calling and texting to no avail. We went into the first floor and couldn’t find him anywhere. We tried upstairs to no avail as well. Finally, he texted me back. He was outside to smoking and trying to find us.

When he finally came back in, he was a drunk sweaty mess. I was way too sober to be there. I get very uncomfortable in gay bars for some reason. So, I ordered four straight vodka shots, two of which were for myself. He began to grind his ass in my crotch, and I liked it! This was the first time we could dance together and not create a total scene. A good portion of the night from then on is a blur for me. I got very drunk so I could tolerate the heat and the club and have blacked out a few bits.

When Boston got a text from his friends, we decided to leave. N told me he was coming with us. I was very pleasantly surprised. Boston and I went outside while N said goodbye to his fiends. When ten minutes passed, and he didn’t come out, I went back into the bar. As I was walking up the stairs, I noticed him talking to someone. Men were passing between us going up and down the stairs, but just then I saw him lean in and kiss this man. My heart shattered into a million pieces. In that millisecond, I felt my world crumbling around me. I know it was just one little kiss, but the fact that he was talking to another man, exchanging numbers and kissing broke my heart. I was crushed.

I didn’t know what to do other than run. I turned and sped down the stairs. He must have seen me at that instant because he chased after me. He tried to spin me around by grabbing my shoulder, but I flung my arms into the air and shouted, “Don’t touch me!” All that went through my head at that point was how many other guys were you grinding on and kissing before I arrived at the bar? We never had the exclusive conversation, but at that point, he was sleeping in my bed almost every night. We were in a relationship, even if it wasn’t defined.

He tried to calm me down on the street, but I was making a scene. I didn’t know what to do. When I get heated I get loud. He asked me to have a conversation and stop shouting, but I couldn’t be calm. I couldn’t be rational. I was enraged. Somehow, he managed to calm me down and convince me it was just a peck on the cheek in passing. Out of my inebriation, I let it go, and we went to the next bar. I felt awful. Boston was standing across the street witnessing this whole scene uncomfortably waiting for us to meet up with his friends at Drom.

In the cab ride, I decided I would pretend it didn’t happen for the night. Boston was only in town until the morning. I would deal with the situation later. I needed to entertain my good friend.

Boston lost his ID the night before, so when we attempted to enter the bar, the bouncer was not cooperative. Finally, when I shoved $40 into his hand, he let us in. After we each paid the $12 cover (on to of the $40), we came to realize Boston’s friends already left. The scene was dead. When I realized there was no chance in hell I was going to have fun the rest of the night, we grabbed a few drinks, and I volunteered to go on the hunt to find Boston a man to have fun with. We asked him what his type was. He explained. Then, N asked him if he was a top or a bottom. (This really had no relevance to the situation, and I think N took advantage to satiate his own curiosity.) When Boston was reluctant to elaborate, N said, “I’m a total top, but I love it when he puts his dick in my ass.” This was news to me. Especially since it never really fully made it there. It was just confirmation he was pumping Boston for information because he had a crush on him.

At one point, N and Boston walked to the bar to get drinks while I went to the restroom. Days later, Boston recounted for me the following exchange: N firmly gripped Boston’s ass and said, “How do you get an ass like that? So tight and firm. I’d really like to put my dick in there.” Had I known this happened that night, I would have left the bar with Boston and that would have been the end of it.

When we were all thoroughly exhausted and bored, we hopped in a cab back to Hoboken. No sooner we were in the door, and N was passed out face down on my bed in his underwear. This raised a whole new red flag in my brain. He was donning the sexiest underwear I’d ever seen him wear. His back was freshly shaved, his chest was cleanly shaved and he had a new haircut. All those are fine, but who was he expecting to see his underwear at a gay club. He spent the entire day getting ready for this night out. He never spent that much time primping to see me. Everything was starting to add up. From the business trip I took on, N was quickly distancing himself and seeking relationship freedom.

I went back out to the kitchen to chat with Boston. He immediately said, “OK! What happened!? What did you see!?” I explained to him the kiss, and in typical fashion, he dealt me the truth. He explained how N manipulated me that night as he watched from across the street. He told me to trust what I saw and trust my own instincts. We talked for at least another hour after that.

N’s phone was sitting there the whole time as well. I picked it up and was about to look through his Grindr messages because I wanted to find the closure I needed to tell him it was over. I couldn’t trust him anymore, but if I had proof, I would be able to get over it myself. Boston convinced me how bad that idea was. I put the phone down without pushing a button. To this day, I still regret not looking. It’s completely out of character for me to not trust someone and read their phone, but it would have delivered me the closure I needed.

At that point, I was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. That night I was delivered a heavy blow to the gut and needed to sleep to forget about it even for one instant. Boston went to the couch, and I begrudgingly went to share my bed with the man I had seen kissing another man. I laid down with my back to him and tears streaming down my face. I was crushed by what happened. I had no idea what to do. I still had very strong feelings for him, but couldn’t turn a blind eye. It isn’t who i am. I’m no one’s fallback or second best. However, I did know it was certainly not going to be a fun morning for him either…

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