“I thought about Red Velvet. He likes Indian food.”
“That place is a dump, despite the fact you need to re-mortgage just to pay for the entrée.”
“I heard it’s been renovated under new management,” I argued.
“You can’t polish a turd. Roll it in glitter, yes, but it’s still a turd underneath. Besides, you don’t strike me as a restaurant kind of guy.”
“What do you mean? I eat.”
“Alex isn’t with you for your sophisticated palette and quiet conversation. He’s with you because of who you are. Fun. Different. You need to put that into your date.”
“Dammit this is so hard!”
“Forget the traditional idea of wining and dining. That’s for old people. Taking someone on a date is a time to show the other person who you are, what you enjoy. It’s your chance to bring them into your world.”
“So I should take him on a mammoth binge-drinking session?”
“That’s a habit not a hobby.”
I huffed, growing frustrated. “I don’t have any hobbies, apart from drumming and I don’t recall any Drum Schools for Dummies around here.”
“Okay, okay. Forget what I just said. I’ll start again. A date is a time when you and your person get to find new things to enjoy together.”
“You’re totally fucking winging this aren’t you?”
“Does it really matter if by the end of it you have somewhere to take him?”
I shrugged. “Guess not.”
“So do you think, you know,” Ryder said clumsily. “Tonight’s the night?” It was a nicer version of asking if I planned to fuck Alex tonight.
Our close friends, including Ryder, now knew about Alex’s HIV. We discussed it during our counseling session and that same night Alex decided to rip off the band-aid and tell people. He said it felt like coming out all over again but once it was out there he wished he’d had the courage to do it sooner. He’d been afraid. Struggling to swim in an unjustified pool of shame. With support from me, our friends and our counselor, I had hope that in time he would learn to accept himself the way we all had.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” I admitted, going back into the fridge for the second time and pulling out a carton of orange juice. I took a generous mouthful straight from the carton and then put it back inside.
“Why?”
“Nervous, I guess.”
“But it’s Alex. You guys have done other stuff together. Unfortunately, I’ve witnessed it,” he teased, referring to the morning we woke up to an audience about to watch us jerk each other off. “And you’ve given it up the ass before.”
“Jesus Christ! Is there anyone who doesn’t know that about me?”
“Maybe the local priest but even he’s probably read it somewhere.”
“This is different. He’s a guy. What if I don’t do it right?”
Ryder formed a circle with his thumb and forefinger and started poking a finger from his other hand in and out of it. “Hole. Dick. In. Out. Simple.” He winked at me and I wanted to punch him in the face. “You’ll be fine. You’re not doing it alone. You’ll have Alex. He’ll guide you.”
“What if…”
“He wants to top?” Ryder stole the words that got lost on my lips.
“We’ve not really talked about it yet. And by not really, I mean not at all.”
“You need to. Either way, he’s not going to expect you to do anything you’re not ready for. And when you are, you might just like it.”
“It’ll hurt though, right?” Damn, I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with Ryder.
“Not if it’s done properly. Trust me, it can feel fucking amazing.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then it doesn’t. It’s not the only way to have sex and, sure, it’s not for everyone. Elle doesn’t like it.”
“Christ, Ry. I don’t need to know that shit.”
“You’re thinking about it too much. You need to talk to Alex. You’ll know when you’re ready.”
“How?”
“You just will. But we should get you prepped just in case.”
“Um, prepped?” What the hell?
“Back, crack and sac. I can get you in at Elle’s salon this morning.”
“You’re joking. You’re joking, right?” His stoic expression left me unable to read how serious he was. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“It’s Gay Rulebook 101. You want to look and feel your best for him don’t you?”
“I, um…I guess so,” I stammered, terror flooding my stomach.
“Cool. Go put on a shirt. We’ll discuss date options on the way.”
What the hell am I getting myself into?
“I’ll take you in the back entrance,” Ryder said as we stepped out of his car at the salon later that morning. I raised an eyebrow. “Grow up already.”
“I’m still trying to decide if you’re serious about this,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
“We’re here aren’t we?”
I trailed behind Ryder as he led me through several storage rooms that reeked of nail polish and girly shit. We ended up in a treatment room, all white and pink with a massage table and glass cabinets filled with lotions and potions, without having to step a foot in the main salon.