I nodded. “That’s a good place to start.”
Irving seemed to think carefully about it. I adjusted my glasses and sipped from my tea, remembering how important it was to give him time to think before he talked.
“I really am a bottom,” he finally said. “I figured that out with Mario. I know that I have a lot of exploring left to do still, but that’s one thing I’m pretty sure of.”
“You’re a bottom,” I nodded.
He blushed a little harder. “And a submissive, I guess? What are you into?”
I set my tea down, the string from the bag dangling off the side of the mug. “Remember that I haven’t had as much experience as you have, but I have had lots of time to explore my sexuality solo and with the aid of loads of internet research.”
“So you’re not so sure yet?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m pretty damn sure. Considering how much time I spend with my toys, and all the bondage and restraint websites I frequent, and how turned on I get by powerful men…”
Irving chuckled. “Oh god, you’re a submissive bottom, too, aren’t you?”
I held my hands in the air. “What can I say? The first sexual memory I can think of is wanting a hot Batman villain to tie my hands together.”
The punk record skipped, and Irving and I both jumped. Apparently, we were both a bit nervous from the conversation. We laughed afterward, and Irving stood up to flip it to the other side.
“Where does that leave us, then?” he asked, returning to the couch and sitting a little closer to me. “I don’t doubt you when you say you’re not interested in being dominant or a top, but I’m still, you know…”
He trailed off, trying to get some words out of his mouth.
“You’re still attracted to me?”
He nodded.
“Yeah, I’m still attracted to you, too. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”
Irving’s expression brightened when I said it. His lips pulled back in a smile, and his round cheeks filled up his face. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.”
“The only problem is I keep thinking about you doing things that I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to do.”
“Like what?”
It was my turn to blush now. “Spanking me?”
Irving let out a little laugh, then buried his face in a throw pillow. “I’ve been thinking about that, too,” he said into the pillow, his voice muffled. “Only you were the one spanking me.”
When he looked back up, our eyes met, and we both broke into hysterics. I dove across the couch, pulling him close, and our chests rubbed together as we laughed. When we recovered, we were lying side-by-side, my arms draped over his shoulders and our faces only a few inches away.
“Where does that leave us?” he asked, his face dropping a little again. “We still had fun on the date together. It seems silly to give up on everything.”
“I’m not sure. Maybe we just need a little time to think about it? We don’t have to decide everything right now. But regardless of anything else, we can still keep hanging out.”
Irving wiggled his feet against mine, and I wiggled mine back. “We can be friends,” he said.
“We can be friends,” I said. “And maybe, after a little time, we can figure out how to be something more, too.”
We laid in silence for a while, each of us lost in thought. I should have felt disappointed. After spending the past week fantasizing over the brief hookup, I had really let myself believe Irving had serious boyfriend potential. But as we laid on the couch, smiling and relaxing in each other’s arms, everything just felt so good, and easy.
“Being friends doesn’t have to be a disappointment,” I said. “And it doesn’t mean we have to stop being sweet together. I really liked having you sleep in my bed, and it feels good to lie on the couch with you now.”
Irving grinned. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“You were?”
