“No!” I shouted before reeling my true feelings back in. “I mean, no. I think a show like that should only be experienced once. If you just keep going back, it ruins the… soul… of the thing.”
I also wasn’t sure if I would’ve been able to survive another showing.
Watching it once was bad enough. Having to watch it again would’ve been absolute torture.
“You really are a musical purist, huh?” Harrison chuckled. “Fine. We won’t double-dip on that show. I’m just happy you had a good time tonight.”
“Thanks for getting us tickets.” I smiled. “It’s been a while since anyone has asked me out to do anything like this.”
“Oh, please. You must get offers for dates all the time.”
“I mean, yeah, but they’re not really dates,” I replied. “A lot of guys just want to hook up with me and never call me again.”
“Their loss,” Harrison said. “Don’t get me wrong. Hooking up with you is lots of fun, but hanging out with you is pretty cool, too.”
There was another moment of silence in the car before Harrison asked, “Do you think we could do it again, sometime?”
“What do you mean? Like, go on another date?”
“Yeah,” Harrison’s words came out low. “Can I take you out again? Is that… are you okay with that?”
“I’m okay with that,” I answered, even as a part of me scolded my response.
I shouldn’t have been okay with that.
I shouldn’t have been okay with going on a date with a straight guy. I shouldn’t have been okay with lying by omission to preserve Harrison’s feelings about that disaster of a musical. And I shouldn’t have been okay with how happy I felt to be next to Harrison in the passenger seat of his car.
And yet as our conversation died down once more, I silently reached for Harrison’s free hand, gently taking it into mine as we continued down the city streets.
10
Harrison
The last few days had been a whirlwind of Morgan, and ice cream, and Morgan, and late-night dancing, and Morgan, and an afternoon picnic, and Morgan, and an overly complicated yoga class, and Morgan.
We hadn’t spent a day apart since our night at the musical, and I didn’t mind the way we’d become intertwined in each other’s orbits. It was becoming my second nature to stop by Morgan’s place after he got off work before I whisked him across the city to partake in yet another dating adventure, something I’d seen online and wanted us to try out.
What Morgan didn’t know was that I was working through a list. The list was from another article I’d read about being gay in a big city, and what activities were the most gay-friendly in the area. I didn’t want to tell Morgan about the list because I didn’t want him to think that I was doing things deemed as gay just because I was coincidentally going out with a man.
The reality was that I was doing things deemed as gay because I was still trying to figure out who I was. And even though I didn’t feel like I was coming any closer to answering that question via the activities on the list, at least I was having a fantastic time with Morgan by my side.
Although, one of the most confusing things about trying to nail down my sexuality was that despite coming across several other gay men while out with Morgan, I never found myself attracted to any of them. Even when a guy basically tried to throw himself at me during the queer-friendly ice cream social that we’d gone to, sidling up to me while Morgan was in the bathroom for a few minutes, I wasn’t interested in giving him my number.
Or talking to him ever again.
Because no matter how attractive a guy was, he wasn’t Morgan. No one else seemed to be able to reach that part of my brain, the part that made me crave Morgan when he wasn’t around, the part that made me want to bury myself inside him.
And while I knew that it was strange, I also felt no desire to try to change it. I didn’t mind only wanting Morgan as long as I was the only one that he wanted, too. We hadn’t talked about our hooking up being exclusive, but I had a feeling that neither one of us was seeing other people right now.
Besides, even if Morgan was going out with other guys, I didn’t have the right to ask Morgan to spend all his time with me. It wasn’t like we were seriously dating. Our relationship was just something in the meantime, keeping us both preoccupied in laughter and kisses and quiet moans in the night.
We didn’t belong to each other. Not really.
And even though I felt a twinge in my chest at the thought of Morgan kissing someone else, I suppressed the feeling as I watched Morgan walking down the street. He was wearing a long sweater, almost resembling a dress, with a pair of dark jeans underneath.
When he reached me on the sidewalk, he was already shaking his head. “Sorry for being late. I would’ve been here on time, but—”
“Is that a new outfit?” I asked, interrupting his explanation.
“It’s not mine,” Morgan answered. “Lucky accidentally knocked my ironing board over this morning, and of course, it landed right on my cup of coffee. Anyway, long story short, the coffee got all over the outfit I’d picked out for work, and this was the only thing I could find that wasn’t in the laundry basket or wrinkled.”
“If it’s not yours, whose is it?”
“Avery’s.” Morgan smiled. “Turned out he left it in my closet. I thought he got everything, but I’m glad he didn’t, or else I would’ve been wearing dirty clothes to work today.” Morgan paused before he broke out into a laugh. “Actually, who the hell am I kidding? Avery probably left that sweater there for me on purpose. He was always trying to get me to dress more like him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love him more than anything, but Avery seriously thinks he’s the most fashionable person in the world.”
I love him more than anything.
A sting of jealousy rippled right through me, but I tried not to show it on my face. I knew that Morgan and Avery were nothing more than friends, so I had no idea why I was a little annoyed by Morgan’s choice of words. “Are you ready to go to the restaurant?”
“Sure thing.” Morgan smiled up at me, his eyes focused on mine.
And after that, any semblance of jealousy or annoyance seemed to float away on the breeze.
“B29!” A drag queen, with a full face of makeup, called out a number near the front of the restaurant. “If you have B29, now is the time to put that little chip on your card. It’s also the time for someone to hand mama another drink before she sobers up and reconsiders hosting this gig!”
The crowd of patrons laughed, while some people moved chips onto the bingo cards in front of them.
I’d read about Drag Bingo at Howie’s Subs when I was in the midst of researching things for gay guys to check out in the city. I wasn’t particularly interested in doing drag myself, but it still seemed like a fun time. It also gave me another opportunity to see more gay guys, face to face, and I wondered if I was going to meet someone who was going to break the spell Morgan had over me.
But as I currently peered around the restaurant, it was obvious that Morgan was still the only guy for me.