I asked, “Do you drink coffee?”
“No.”
“Hot chocolate?” When he nodded, I asked, “With whipped cream or mini marshmallows?”
“Surprise me.” I added a few things to the order that I thought he might like and sent it on its way. Then I placed the phone on the coffee table and wrapped my arms around him as he asked, “Are you horrified that I eat like a five-year-old?”
“I’m not really big on judging people.”
“You’re a nice guy, Dylan Hawkins.”
“I try. The groceries will probably take close to an hour, even with rush delivery. Can I get you some water in the meantime?”
He climbed off of me as he said, “Yes, please. Be right back, I’m going to use the bathroom.”
Lark took my Henley with him, and while he was gone I climbed up the ladder to the platform and made my bed, because it had been bothering me. Then I found a clean T-shirt and put it on, neatly tucking it into my jeans.
By the time Lark returned to the sofa, I was waiting for him with two glasses of ice water. He’d put on my shirt, which almost reached his knees, and he looked adorable.
“I like the concealed closet off your bathroom,” he said. “It’s very ‘hidden chamber of secrets.’ I was wondering where you kept all your stuff.”
“I actually had to add the closet when I moved in, and that was the only place one would fit. When the property owner converted the top floor of this building into lofts, which were trendy at the time, he decided any hipsters who’d buy a place like this would be fine with keeping their clothes on metal racks.”
“You’re definitely not a hipster,” Lark said, as he sat on the arm of the couch with his bare feet on the cushion. His toenails were painted baby blue.
“Not even a little.”
“So, what attracted you to this place?”
“I needed a change, and it was unlike any home I’d ever lived in.”
“Makes sense.” He took a long drink of water after I handed him the glass. Then he asked, “Do you think we have time to make you come before the pizza gets here?”
That abrupt subject change caught me off guard. An embarrassed laugh slipped from me, and I said, “Let’s not try. I don’t want to be literally caught with my pants down when the delivery person arrives.”
“Okay. I just feel bad for leaving you hanging, and I hope we get a chance for round two after dinner.” I grinned at that, and he asked, “So, tell me, what are you into? Sexually, I mean.”
I took a sip of water, then put my glass on the table as I tried to figure out what to say. Finally, I admitted, “I feel like I should have a clear-cut answer for that at my age, but the truth is, I’m not really sure anymore. I always stayed in this narrow lane of what I thought I liked, but the same old things like watching porn have stopped doing it for me.
“When I watched you do that strip tease on your fan page, and later when we played together one-on-one, it was a revelation. You turned me on in ways I’d never even imagined. So now, I guess I’d say I’m in the process of learning about myself and evolving.”
When I glanced at him, Lark flashed me a huge smile and said, “We’re going to have so much fun.”
I grinned at him, but then I looked away again and admitted, “It’s not easy for me to leave my comfort zone, but I really do want to explore my sexuality and grow from this experience. I’m just not sure which is the better approach—easing into it slowly, or diving into the deep end.”
“Deep end, no question.”
“You really think so?”
“When it comes to sex, definitely. You need to get in there and see what turns you on. Let’s say for example that you think you might be into voyeurism. How are you going to know unless you go out, find an exhibitionist like me, and watch me do my thing?”
“That’s generally not considered a good thing, being a voyeur. There are a lot of negative connotations associated with that word.”
“I know what you mean,” Lark said. “The idea of a voyeur might make you think of a peeping Tom, someone who watches people without their permission. But all it really means is someone who gets off by watching others. That can be totally consensual, like when you watched me on my cam.
“It’s the same with calling myself an exhibitionist, by the way. All it means is that I get off on being watched, not that I’m some sleaze in a trench coat, flashing people on the bus.”
“I like the fact that you can talk about sex so openly. It’s something I’ve always shied away from, for some reason.”