I don’t respond, because I’m still low-key panicking over what happened this morning.
I thought it was a simple request, but clearly it brought up something much deeper. And suddenly I think I might have miscalculated by asking him to bottom. That was the first time I’ve seen true fear in his eyes since those first days when he started trying to figure out his true identity, and it scares me to the core.
When my grandmother taught me how to grow tomato plants, she told me never to touch a seedling in the early days, because they hate being perturbed and will shrivel up and die if you even graze them with a finger.
And maybe I’ve done that – maybe I’ve tried to mess with our relationship before it was ready to withstand the disturbance.
I get ready for work with a quivery stomach, because I am starting to realize that what started out as a simple sexual request might become a really, really big problem.
And if it does, I will have absolutely no idea how to fix it.
Markus sighs next to me, bringing me back to the present. “God, though, it really is, like, a gay dream. You took a straight guy and made him gay for you.”
I roll my eyes. “Marcus, that is literally nonsensical. Please don’t call him ‘straight’ – I resent it, actually. Someone cannot be gay ‘for’ one person. He was obviously a latent bisexual and didn’t know it.”
“You know what I mean! He was dating girls and wearing baseball hats and driving around in trucks until, like, he wasn’t. Until you.”
I wave Marcus off. “I don’t like him because of all that. I was never one of those guys who was like, Omigod, get me some straight dick, asap!”
“Hmmm…”
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just – you did bring a straight guy home to my house, back when you were staying with me after your AC broke. And you fucked him.”
“Because he was really hot,” I point out. “And I didn’t know he identified as straight. That’s different.”
“Whatever, but by the way – I have to admit I listened to you guys through the wall. And loved every minute.”
“That’s disgusting, Marcus,” I sigh. “Anyway, I like Chandler because he’s a good person. And he loves me. And he has a big dick. I just…”
“What?” Marcus asks. “Trouble in paradise?”
“No, drama princess. He just…well, he won’t bottom. And it’s becoming a bit of a ‘thing.’ You know I’ve never even touched his hole, right?”
Marcus makes a face. “Really? You’ve never even touched it? That’s weird. Does he have an STD? Is he hiding warts or something?”
“No! We went to get checked together. And don’t STD-shame, either. He just…I don’t know, I think he kind of looks down on bottoms.”
“Fine, you’re right.” Marcus narrows their eyes. “And oh, so I get it, then. He thinks bottoming is ‘too gay’ for him. Still. He thinks bottoming is girly, and all that shit. It’s that whole thing.”
“Yes,” I breathe. “On some level, I think he does view it like that. And I wanna help him. And I really wanna fuck his hole, too, regardless. Because I’m not a strict bottom, and I miss topping. See my dilemma?”
Marcus drinks and thinks. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“It’s not hard to see where he’d get that attitude. Even the gay community shames bottoms and idealizes tops.”
“I know that. But how do I make him see that? He thinks it’ll make him submissive or something.”
“Have you told him that?” Marcus asks.
“In a nicer way, yes, so I didn’t offend him. You know how people can be about their prejudices. Most of them don’t even know they have them…”
“Hmm. I guess you’ll just have to show him that…well, submitting to someone can be strong, too.”
“I guess…”
Markus sips their drink again. “So we actually haven’t talked much about this, but I’m fascinated. How does the whole ‘dating a straight guy’ thing work in the real world, anyway? Do you have to go to, like, straight things with him? I don’t even know what straights do for fun…like, monster truck rallies, or something?”
“I would sooner die,” I groan. “No, we made it work. We compromised. We mostly just find stuff to do together, stuff we both like. Gardening, hiking, drinking. We do keep up our own stuff, though, like any couple. He’ll go off and watch ESPN on the iPad while I watch Drag Race or Real Housewives, but mostly it’s not an issue.”
“Does he still hang out with his straight friends?”
“Not really…”
“Wait,” he says. “Maybe I’m not getting this, but…”
“What?’
“So he basically abandoned his whole life for you, he changed everything from the top down, and now you’re asking for even more?”
I try to consider this, then I cry out and shake my head. “Shut up, shut up! You’re making me nervous. He likes his life with me – we make each other happy. He tells me so all the time. God, am I really the devil for asking for a little ass?”
“Why don’t you just have a threesome, then?”
I look away. “We’ve talked about it. We’re both too possessive. Remember when he got kicked out of that bar for punching the guy who touched my ass?”
Stars come into Marcus’ eyes. “Yeah, that was so hot. I’d kill to have someone act that psycho over me.”
“It was hot, come to think of it. But no, if I ever see another guy’s mouth on him, I will die.”
“Well, good luck. But you’re basically asking him to change his rules for you.”
I try to deny it, but I can’t – Marcus is right.
I bite my fingernail. “I know, God, maybe I’m an idiot…”
“Duh. We already knew that. Oh, and I brought you a gift.”
“We said no Valentine’s gifts!”
“We both know you didn’t mean that. You love gifts. ”
“True.”
Marcus hands me a bag, and I take it and look inside to find two tiny bottles reading RUSH MULTIPLIED: ENHANCE YOUR SEXUAL DESIRE!
“Aw. You got me poppers?” I smile. “You really are the gayest person alive.”
“They’re not just any poppers. They’re the most potent poppers on the market. Have fun.”
“Trust me, I’ll probably need them tonight. Oh, and I have a present for you, too. Chandler knows you’re in love with him, and told you I could show you this, as long as you don’t take a pic.”
“What?” he gasps, and I smile.
“Hold on.” I hold out my phone and watch his jaw drop. It’s a photo of Chandler, standing nude in my bathroom.
“Oh my fucking God. He let you show me this?”
“Come on. He’s not a prude. As long as you didn’t share it, he doesn’t care.”
“Jesus Christ, you get to have sex with that?”
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
He sits back and sighs.
“What?”