"Don't mope, Eric. It's very unattractive!" That's what Hugo said to me two and a half years ago, standing in Rage. The music was loud, the party was raucous, and beautiful boys were everywhere.
"Well I don't feel very attractive," I whined. I just discovered that my 'boyfriend' thought we had an open relationship. Thing was, I didn't. He said I satisfied him emotionally, but he needed more physically.
"He just wants a big dick," said Hugo.
"No, man, he wants someone good-looking! Not some dork. Not me." I slammed down another shot of tequila.
"Don't be stupid. You're a damn good catch. You're handsome and intelligent...Not to mention your great ass. And you're a doctor for Godsake! You're everything a fag wants to be!"
"Funny, I don't see myself that way." At that moment, the bartender placed another tequila in my face. "I didn't order this."
"Yeah, but he did," said the bartender and glanced at the man next to me. HE was tall and lean, his hair blond and curly. And even in the bad light, his eyes had a twinkle.
"Hi, I'm Andrew." His voice, smooth like honey, drowned out the noise and the music.
"I'm Eric," was all I could manage.
"Let's go," he said, and led me to the dance floor with Hugo pushing from behind.
'God, he's sexy when he dances,' I thought and I remember desperately wanting to see him dance naked. I did. I still do.
I smiled at the memory, and laughed as I adjusted myself in my pants. So much for anymore cleaning. I shook my head in disbelief. How did a blue-collar geek from Providence who eats with his hands and smells like fish get to live with a gentle man from Southern aristocracy?
Living with. We'd be living together. Wow... Andrew and me. We'd be living together in less than a week....
What the hell am I going to tell my parents??
