I got it wrong. It was just sex. Now, we’re back to… fuck knows what.
And isn’t that exactly what I wanted. Isn’t that exactly what I am planning? Isn’t that exactly why I asked Tony to go for a drink with me?
My hands automatically go to my thighs, even though they’ve been hairless for more than a decade. Some habits really do die hard.
I think momentarily about checking my phone to see if Tony has replied, hoping against hope that he hasn’t or maybe he has and it’s to reject my offer for whatever reason, but Marcello is moving, getting onto the bed and I quickly switch my focus to him. Maybe we can get the moment back again? Maybe I can make this last a little bit longer?
“Are you okay?” I ask when he’s settled, lying on his back not touching me but still close with his head resting on his bent arm.
“Yeah, you?” He turns his head to me.
“Yeah, that was…” I swallow whatever adjective wants to come out. “I hope you know that sex with men isn’t always like that.”
“It’s not? What do you mean?”
Fuck. I’ve dropped myself in it.
“I just… I think we’re quite compatible, in the bedroom,” I say feeling like I’m walking on a tightrope.
“In the bedroom?”
“Yeah, we seem to have good chemistry.”
His smile grows slowly but when it’s there it’s like permission for me to grin stupidly too. “I had wondered.”
“So don’t expect it to always be like this,” I say, while my stomach twists at the idea of him with somebody else but he needs to know this. It feels only fair.
“Hmm,” he says to himself and his eyes return to the ceiling.
Suddenly, I’m aware that I’m still naked and he’s got his underwear on. And he hasn’t joined me under the covers. I slide out of bed to find my shorts.
“Where are you going?”
“Putting my shorts on.”
“Don’t do it on my account,” Marcello says and his eyes are unapologetically on my penis. My flaccid penis.
I laugh to myself as I find my shorts on the floor and pull them on. “You know you can’t look at me like that and pretend you’re not queer.”
“Oh, I’m definitely queer,” he says, possibly with a little bit of pride.
“And you’re okay with that?” I lie back on the bed, on my side, facing him.
Marcello shrugs. “What’s to not be okay with. I’ve had nothing but good queer sex so far. My best friend is gay. My cousin is queer. Chloe andRadia are queer. The more I think about it, the more I know my mum will be okay with it. Maybe this way I’ll actually meet someone who wants to spend more than five minutes with me. You know, surely I’ve at least doubled my chances now?”
Another twist deep in my gut. “Maybe you should ask Mr Speedos out?”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Marcello says. “I think he’s seeing someone.”
“Oh,” I say and then find I don’t have anything else to add. This changes everything. And yet, it also changes nothing. It’s not like Marcello has told me that he likes me, that he wants to pursue something with me. He’s just revealed that Mr Speedos isn’t available.
“Maybe I should try the dating app again,” he says and I can’t tell if he’s talking to me or thinking out loud. “Change my settings to include men.”
The twist intensifies, almost makes me feel like I could vomit, but my stomach is empty. And so, it feels, is my heart.
“Yeah, you should do that,” I reply so quietly it’s barely audible.
“You know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Giles,” Marcello is looking at me again. “The training, yes, but also these Sundays. This time with you, with your body.” His free arm lifts, pauses and then reaches out and travels down my sternum and abs, his fingertips so light and yet so warm. “Not everybody would have done such a thing, for a… friend.”
