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Do you remember?

By Quinn Gillespie

March 8 2006

You seemed so- awkward around people. Not just around me, but everyone. You surprised the hell out of me, I admit, when you showed up at the park. I was alone then. I was always alone then, at least when I wasnít working. I think we both stammered out a lot of gibberish. You said I had beautiful eyes, something I had only moments before thought about you.

Iíd been wanting you since the moment I saw you. Iíd just been promoted, your brother my new boss. He invited me along to a party at his house. I went, mostly just to make an appearance, to make a point of being social, to make a good impression on him. And you were there. Taller than I am, by a good four inches,, nervous, your blue eyes not knowing where to rest. We talked, almost exclusively about work, you said youíd just been hired on, not in my division, but another one. You asked if I would show you around. I knew I wanted you then, but I didnít think you were gay, even if you were, you didnít seem to know it.

I didnít want to push anything.

I didnít want to rush you because I liked you as well. Liked talking to you more than I had to anyone in a long time. Anyone else, I would have met them that night, not talked, gone home with them, or maybe taken them home with me and said our goodbyes before dawn. I wanted to get to know you, so I reluctantly agreed to show you around.

I donít know how you found me in the park, after our second day spending time together at work. I took a book out there to read, wanting to take in the last few pleasant days of spring, before summer came and made even the nights unbearably hot and humid. We talked a little. More about work, that being the only thing we had in common then. What I had been doing. What you had been doing. You said I had beautiful eyes, and then immediately apologized.

I told you not to be sorry, and reached for your hand.

You kissed me, a soft peck, so quickly I thought I might have imagined it. Would have been sure I imagined it, if not for the look on your face when didnít react. So afraid, looking like you had done something horribly wrong. I knew then, that youíd never kissed a man before. Your mouth opened again, I think to apologize again. I donít know what you would have said because I kissed you then. I think in spite of yourself your mouth opened to me. I felt your lips soft under mine and traced across them with my tongue, felt your mouth with my tongue, parting your lips. A hand fell to your hip, the other with fingers curled at the back of your neck, barely touching your hair. I remember, that night, your hair, normally dark blonde, looked silver with moonlight on it.

Is that ridiculous- to remember something like that?

Do you remember too?

Were you afraid?

We saw each other the next day at work, as though nothing had happened, even though the feel of your mouth was all I could think about. I think I must have been a little crazy then, because we hadnít even done anything, and all of my thoughts were filled with you. Just the thought of the taste of your mouth was enough to drive me to distraction, making it impossible to work. I donít think anyone else knew. I wondered if you felt the same way. If anyone had ever felt the same way, in the history of infatuation.
I remember not wanting to even think the word love, because I was afraid.

Afraid of letting myself be tied down to another person. I said I had always been alone before, and Iíd gotten used to things being that way. Not feeling like it was good, or bad, really, just a fact of life. You came by my desk, presumably with a question about the facility, or where to get additional office supplies. You invited me over to your apartment for a drink after work.

You looked so sweet. Itís disgusting, I know, to refer to you that way, but thatís the best I can come up with to describe how you struck me. Unpretentious, naive, handsome. Sweet. I asked what for, knowing it came out sounding callous, but honestly not understanding why you seemed to want to spend time with me. Personal relationships arenít something Iím good at. Itís so much easier, to just pick someone up, hop into bed with them, and then hop out again just as quickly, without inviting them into your life.

I was afraid, because I knew I couldnít do that with you. That if I went home with you, even if nothing still happened. If all we did was have drinks and maybe kiss again on the way out, that I wouldnít be able to forget you like I had with others before. I was afraid of another kiss from you, what that would do to me, if the first one left me so distracted. Now it seems crazy, to have been afraid of that, afraid of you. But I was. Terrified.

Were you afraid, too?

Did you want it?

You opened a bottle of wine, mumbling something nervously about how you got it for free, for volunteering on the vineyard last summer. How you didnít really know anything about wines. How you felt sort of lost, living in the city. I probably said something stupid, that came out sounding impossibly rude. Like I usually do when people are trying to make polite conversation. I canít help it. And around you, itís like any filter my brain might have had, malfunctioning though it usually managed to be, was completely switched off.

In someoneís apartment, I would generally just shut my brain off, go on instinct, but I so wanted to get to know you. I didnít want to hurry into something that could turn out to be good, and fuck it all up in doing so.

The whole time my heart was pounding in my chest. I wanted to sleep with you. Wanted so much to taste more than just your mouth. I was sure you could hear, could see my heart pounding.

I did let my brain give up control for a little while. I let go when you bent to kiss my neck, biting softly in a way that set all of my nerves on fire, making it almost impossible to breathe. I donít remember if I moaned or not. I think I probably did. I pressed my lips hard against yours, I could feel your teeth behind your lips. Biting at your lower lip, tugging it between my teeth, hearing you moan. My hands ran over your chest, resting on your hips, pushing you back against the wall, stepping forward so that our bodies were flush. Feeling your cock hard against me was almost more than I could stand. I pulled my shirt off over my head, dropping it on the floor. You did the same, your eyes watching mine the whole time. You carefully undid the buttons, folding the shirt and putting it over the arm of one of your living room chairs. Youíre eyes asking, ďIs this all right?Ē

When I kissed you again, and ran a hand from the curve of your shoulder to the back of your neck I could feel your pulse racing under my palm. You didnít seem to know what to do with your hands, first holding them up against my chest, then my back, still not quite touching, finally settling them on either side of my waist, just above my hips. I felt your hands shake, your eyes watching me when I pulled back slowly. I asked if you had ever done this before. You looked down, biting at your lip, blushing. I loved seeing you blush. Again, it was sweet. You shook your head, ďNo.Ē You said the word quietly.

Embarrassed. I told you, that I wanted to take it slow then, and I took a seat in the living room, pulling my shirt back on. I was afraid that was the wrong thing to do because you looked so slighted. But you sat down too, putting your shirt on as well. I hated to see you cover up, but if you hadnít, I donít think I would have been able to keep my hands to myself.

We talked for a long time. About where we grew up, our respective home lives. You wanted to know, how I knew I was gay. It was something I had always sort of known, something that solidified when I was in high school and worked at a shop in the mall in the hell that is retail and spent my off hours fooling around with the manager of the salon across the, what do you call the space between stores in a mall? Across the hall I suppose. I asked how you knew, that you were gay, when it hit you. You said you met a guy at a party, with dark hair and dark eyes. That you hadnít been able to stop thinking about him and were secretly delighted, thatís such a you phrase, ĎSecretly delighted,í when he agreed to show you around the office.

I could hardly breathe. I knew you hadnít done this, slept with a man before, but I didnít think I was the first man youíd ever thought about. And right then, I wanted to be with you, more than anything else in the world. Not just in bed, although I wanted that too, but to have you with me. I wanted to spend all of my days and nights with you.

Did you want it too?


Were you surprised?

I hadnít heard from you for a couple of days. You had found your way around at work by then, and didnít need my help anymore to find your way. I was afraid that you had changed your mind. That I had screwed up royally by not taking my chance when I had it. That you had moved on to someone who could actually talk to people without being offensive. Who didnít start something and then pull back to ask if you had ever had a dog.

I ordered up Chinese for dinner. Thereís a place around the corner that makes excellent broccoli beef and I like their spicy noodles. I had already eaten, put away the paper cartons in the fridge. I picked up a book, the kind of thing you find in airport shops and used bookstores. Historical fiction, a mystery, nothing too thought provoking, but entertaining. I never expect visitors, so your knock was unusual in itself, nevermind who was behind the door when I answered.

You put a hand to the back of your neck, ducking your head, looking back at me. You said something charming and irresistible, like, ďHi.Ē I donít think I said anything for a moment, just stepped back from the door. Eventually I must have come to my senses and invited you in. At least, you came inside anyway, lingering near the door, biting at your lip.

I tried to ignore my heart relocating to my throat, swallowing past it, trying not to think about how much I wanted you. I asked if you wanted to sit down and you shook your head. I asked, if you would like something to drink and you shook your head again. Iím terrible at guessing games, because they require knowing about other people. I asked you what you did want then. You shrugged, watching me, looking like I might eat you alive. The thought did cross my mind, more than once, ever since you kissed me in the park. You said you didnít know what you wanted, you turned, looked out the window, rubbing at your neck again. I was afraid you would leave if I didnít do something, youíd already come so far, to show up at my door.

I stepped towards you and your eyes widened. I hooked my fingers in your belt loops and tugged you gently into the center of the room, watching your eyes the entire time. Your lips parted to speak and I had to kiss you. It was inevitable. You ducked your head again, one hand lifting to the side of my face.
ďHow do you know- when-?Ē

I didnít know how to answer you. Iíve never thought about it. Just, found someone I thought was attractive and went for it. Sometimes I wish I could go through life like that, not thinking, without my own stupid words getting in the way. I shook my head and shrugged. I told you I didnít know, that I never knew anything for certain. I brushed your hair from your forehead, and kissed you again, more intently, biting at your lips, feeling you gasp for air. I undid your belt, letting it drop from my fingers to the floor, putting a hand on the small of your back, pulling you against me again. Your mouth opened again to speak. I think you would have talked a lot that night, nervous chatter mostly, if I had let you. That time you surprised me, tilting my head back in your hand, pressing your lips to my throat, biting at the skin there, pulling gently with your teeth.

I sighed, letting myself lean into you, my eyes closing. I looked back at you, and took you hand, leading you back to my bedroom. You nearly stumbled, an indication of a lifetime of clumsiness. I took over, pushing you backward onto my bed, you leaning up on your elbows. I knelt over you, pushing you back with one hand on your chest, undoing the buttons on your oxford, pushing it off your shoulders. I bit at your earlobe, whispering to you how much I wanted you, what I wanted. You moaned, closing your eyes. You moved to pull your arms out of your sleeves, and wound up turning the shirt inside out, still buttoned at the cuffs. You looked up at me, blushing, slightly smiling. I kissed your collarbone and tugged hard at your shirt, the buttons popping off when I pulled your shirt off of your hands. I said Iíd buy you a new one. You said it didnít matter. You were breathing hard, panting the words out. Your hands crept under my t-shirt when I kissed you again, sucking your tongue into my mouth. You lifted my shirt off slowly, as though were thought I would tell you to stop. How could I tell you to stop? I couldnít think to form words.

I lay down over you, my hands running over your torso. You arched your back up against me, lifting one leg against my side. I let my hands wander down your body, licking my lips when I felt your hard cock under my palms, hot even through the fabric of your pants. I sighed and leaned in to you again, feeling your bare skin touching mine, almost feverishly hot. I ran my tongue down the center of your body, detouring to lick and tease your nipples. Tugging first one, then the other between my teeth, blowing across the wet lines on your skin, making you shiver. I felt your hips buck underneath me and knew, that you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Your body was lean, lightly muscled. I thought maybe you would have run track in high school. I looked up at you, running my tongue underneath your waistband, watching your expression, your eyes tightly closed, small whimpering noises coming from between your lips.

I unbuttoned your fly, gently, slowly pushing your pants from your hips, feeling you lift underneath my touch, already straining against your dark boxer briefs. I ran my palm across you, felt your cock twitch with I did, your breath coming harder. I asked if you were all right and you told me not to stop.

I didnít.

I pulled your briefs down, finishing undressing you. Took off your shoes and socks as well and stepped back for a moment, drinking you in. Wanting to just watch you for a moment. I was surprised at how big you were. You didnít carry yourself like you were aware of it, but how could you not be. Smoothly veined, uniform in width, curving slightly up to a flared head. You sat up on your elbows looking at me concerned, still not sure enough of yourself when I wasnít touching you. It was your turn to ask, if everything was all right, running your tongue over your lip self consciously. I nodded, kneeling over you, breathing you in. I looked up at you when I ran my tongue up the smooth underside of your cock and you sighed, falling back onto the bed again. I pressed my tongue flat against you, massaging it against you before taking you into my mouth, finding you salty, already dripping precum. My heart somersaulted in my chest as you lifted one hand, resting it on my head gently. I closed my eyes, taking more of you in, feeling you slide down my throat. I swallowed around you and your hips lifted under me. I pulled back slowly, spiraling around you with my tongue, wrapping one hand around you, sliding up to meet my lips. I cupped your balls with the other hand, tugging gently, feeling your hips buck again as I lowered my mouth onto you again, drawing you in deeply, hungrily. You moved under me, thrusting upwards, your fingers tightening in my hair, pulling me to you.

I could feel every muscle in your body tense with your orgasm, as you exploded in my mouth. I drank you in, wanting to savor every part of you. I licked my way back up and down you before sucking you in again, milking you dry, hearing you groan with pleasure. The hand not on my neck tangled in the blanket underneath you. Your body shuddered and you lay back against the bed again.

ďOh god-ď you said.

Were you surprised too?

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