Sex app

   It was very cold outside but I just had to smoke. It was one of those times when I just needed to fill my lungs with that damn poison that we all know and hate but sometimes need desperately. I was only wearing my boxers and I had put on his jacket in order not to freeze my ass while smoking at six AM like an idiot. The view from the balcony was amazing: as the building sat on one of the many hills in the city, you could see the business towers on one side and the ocean in the other, as well as hundreds of cars rushing one way or the other. The air smelled delicious, like fresh bread. I noticed there was a bakery just across the street and an elderly couple where entering the store, buying their morning bread so early.

 How did they do it? I don’t mean wake up this early to go and buy bread. I mean, how did they stay together for all these years, without boring each other or drive each other mad? I know and feel I would have the capacity to drive any other guy insane. For life… That tends to be a fucking long time and that’s something I’m not really comfortable with. I have never been able to keep a relationship with anyone for more than six months and this couple may be celebrating their sixtieth anniversary together. No, I think I would have died a long time before that or gone mad. I have a tendency to move around, never standing still for too long. I just couldn’t.

 I finish my cigarette but I don’t really want to go in. Thankfully I brought the pack with me along with a lighter. I lit up another one and feel it comforting my skin from the cold. Winter is done or at least that’s what all the people in the news say. But t sure doesn’t seem like it. My ass is freezing and I don’t know what else to do besides smoking like mad. I let my beer inside… Fuck!  Could have used that. Well, life isn’t perfect at all, shouldn’t I know that. I’m the man working in his father’s flower shop. I have to say I don’t hate it or anything but I would have liked to get so much more from life.

 I went to school and everything. I mean, back in high school I was a great football player and not very smart but in college I discovered I had a thing for numbers and all that. I’m good at that and that’s why dad asked to work with him. I keep the books in order and thanks to me his store is working much more efficiently than before. I even caught someone stealing for him, so I guess I did a great job. But I would have liked to have my own business, make my own decisions and just be myself in life. But this happens when you look for a fucking job for three fucking years and no one even thinks of helping you, giving you a hand. So here I am, thirty-two and still working for daddy. It pays well so I shouldn’t really but hey, I could bitch professionally.

 I turn around and see him there, sleeping as if he had just taken a magical potion to sleep like a log. He looks nice asleep… Not that he doesn’t look nice while awake but you know what I mean. I don’t really know how I got here, I mean, how it was that I accepted to come. To be one hundred percent honest, I met him earlier today on one of those apps for the phone where you get people to fuck with. Yeah, I was that bored. I just downloaded the thing and in an hour I had gotten lots of messages. Which is amazing the body I had back in high school has almost completely disappear. But I guess I have my thing and he noticed it.

 He looked nice in his picture, cute smile, nice guy he seemed. So he asked to come to his house in the middle of the night and here I am. The sex was great and he turned out to be a great guy, very nice and well mannered. But that didn’t stop me from coming out to this freezing balcony to smoke y heart out. It’s maybe because I don’t really like this kind of situations. It annoys me that I have to use those apps and shit to get to know someone to fuck. I mean, it makes it easier but one wonders if it’s all because of me or because he was horny or what.

 Down in the street the elderly couple has just come out of the store. They are holding hands and each one of them is carrying a brown paper bag with what I guess is bread inside. They walk closely together, maybe because they’re cold or maybe because of the love they feel for each other. Either way, they look perfect, happy and just beaming. They disappear after I follow them with my look for a couple of blocks. No one else is really out there except some of those idiots in bicycles and some others obviously heading to the gym or some shit at this time of day. My only obsession is smoking and maybe a beer or two but that cult on the body, I never got it.

 I hear my cellphone’s voice mail ringtone. It only lasts for a couple of seconds but I instantly worry it will awake the guy. But no, he doesn’t even move. I open the sliding door carefully, walk slowly to my pants and take out my cellphone from one of the pockets. And come out again, closing the door behind me. As I take another puff, I realize it was my ex who just left me a message. He’s drunk and says I fucked him up or something. He says I was great always but that I drove him insane. In the background I can hear very loud music. The message ends suddenly. I check it again but hear nothing out of the ordinary so I put my cellphone in the jacket.

 He has already done that, a couple of times after we broke up. It had to be said that it happened like four months ago and he still doesn’t get over it. And he should. Not only because it’s bad for him to hold that inside for so long but because he seems to forget he was the one that send our relationship to hell. I mean, that’s what normally happens when you want to surprise your guy with a nice present that you bought him in a nice little flea market downtown and you just find him in his house fucking another guy. Yeah, that’s what happened. Once I entered with the keys he had given me, I realized there was something wrong but you know people, we always want what we know to be a lie. But it wasn’t. He was fucking that guy hard.

 I’m not the kind, soft type. I opened up that door with a fucking kick and took pictures. Yeah, I did. I was driven insane and just wanted to fucking destroy him. He begged me not to show those to anyone and then I knew what was really important to him. I didn’t even look at the guy he was fucking, who just jumped like a rabbit and into the bathroom; maybe scared I would kick him in the balls. I wanted to. Fuck, I really did but I knew I could get into trouble if I did that. So I just took the present, my cellphone and what was left of my dignity and walked away.

 That ended up the relationship. Again, I’m not one of those stupid people that talks and decides and all that shit. For me, that was it. So I never saw him again. No accepting calls or messages or presents from him. Nothing. And yet, he still calls when drunk and has the nerve to blame me for him fucking another guy. I have to be clear on this: I don’t give a shit if he had a reason to go and fuck around. He felt neglected or needy or whatever? Cool, he could have told so to me and just have a healthy breakup or talk about it or whatever. But no, he took the whore’s road and here we are.

 I don’t even hate him. I stopped feeling anything for him at that moment. Yeah, I guess I cried a bit but I got over it. Again, it was a short-lived relationship and I never expected it to last for too long. But it hurts more when it that person who disappoints you. Because I can see me disappointing anyone and I have. But never like that and never before taking time to sit down and talk about what’s happening. It may seem cruel but I always tell them “You’re not my type”, “This isn’t working” and so on. I cut the shit and say the truth because I believe we all deserve that.

 So I guess that’s what makes me uncomfortable about this whole sex app thing. I mean, it’s great that we just cut to the chase and we know what we’re there for but maybe it’s too blunt, to direct. I would love to be able to charm someone into having sex with me and not just ask. Fuck, maybe I’m a romantic that way but doesn’t it fell better when people are attracted to you as a person and not just because you are another horny guy in their area or something? People nowadays seem to just be fucking around but not really caring about anything else and that kind of bothers me. But I guess that’s the way it is and who am I to say anything? Any way, this might be my only time in this so, who cares.

 Then, I feel two warm hands holding my waist and lips kissing my right cheek. We share a kiss and a hug and then we go back inside. I spoon him until he falls asleep and just before I do that myself; I realize things are as I want them to be. So I’ll smell his hair and enjoy his smile and just see where I can take this later today.

The Other One

   I just couldn’t confront what I had done. The morning I woke up there, I felt wrong, guilty and even filthy. I wanted to leave that place so fast and never return again. How should I have know that only days later I would have to go back there, practically against my will.

 There was no need to say “goodbye” to him. After all, we didn’t really know each other that well or, at least, that’s what I prefer to think. I never let anyone too close and I have my reasons for that. No, I have no idea who he really is and I’m not interested in finding out more than I already know, more than I have too.

 You see, we were celebrating our promotions with other people of the office. We went to his place because it seemed cheaper to buy some bottles from the store and go there and have a great time. And we did. I hadn’t been that happy for a long time and I fucking deserved that promotion. I had worked hard and so had he and Laura, my best friend there. The three of us had been in charge of a certain project and we had done so great that our boss decided to grant us a very well deserved promotion. We would make more money and we would have nice new offices.

 Almost everyone was happy for us because they knew how hard it had been for us to have the job and then to be good and make such a project a big reality. We were admired and that’s why many people came to Joe’s place. Of course, it was free booze and we ordered some pizzas and I even made some cookies, already a bit tipsy. Lots of cinnamon in them... We had a blast but something that I hadn’t realized happened in a second, in blinking of an eye.

 I had gone to clean my hands after spilling some vodka on the floor and cleaning it. I had been looking at the mirror, any trace of alcohol apparently retreating, when I realized the door was half open and there he was. Joe I mean. He asked me if I was ok and I nodded and told him I was having a great time and that I felt sorry for spilling vodka. He seemed shy or distant, jus strange because he had never really been shy during our work together. And we had stayed up late in the office. He even took me home sometimes.

 But then, in that bathroom, there was a tension only broken by a girl who entered in haste and decided to vomit too close to my shoes. I jumped back just in time to retire from the “splash zone” and decided to rejoin the party, forgetting about my encounter with Joe. Well, until the party ended that is. Laura, her boyfriend and I stayed behind to help Joe clean up the place. When there were only glasses to throw and small things to put in place, Laura and her boyfriend left.

 As I cleaned up with Joe, there was this awful silence. It was even more ominous because there was no sound from the street, being three o’clock of the morning. Not a single soul walked the street below and I started talking to him about that, how empty and lonely the city looked when you stayed up until late. He agreed, saying it was worse in the suburbs, whereas in downtown or other commercial areas people were still roaming around. We talked about different things and decided to have one last drink. We both consumed it fast and, as I recuperated from the strength of the beverage, I realized he had his hands on my waist.

 Needless to say that we kissed and I didn’t resist. I hadn’t had any physical contact of that kind with anyone for years and I wasn’t going to refuse any act of kindness towards my body. Some minutes later we were in his room and we had sex. I was about to say we made love but that’s impossible, because I wasn’t in love with him. As I said before, I barely knew him. What I can say is I had a great time with him in that room because, never mind the alcohol, I can still remember every thing that happened.

 I felt guilty the following morning, very early, because I realized something I had forgotten the night before: Joe was engaged. She worked in the company but in another department. I had seen her a couple of times: stunning body, nice face, very kind and joyful. Joyful is not my kind of thing but it looked good on her. She was a knockout and I had heard many guys in the office had tried to date her prior to Joe but that was long before I had begun my work there.

 My pants were on the floor, my underwear on a chair, my socks in my shoes… Once I had everything on and my cellphone and backpack, I just left trying to be as silent as a mouse. I couldn’t look, for some reason, to the doorman to the face. He greeted me but I felt he knew, somehow. I felt the same thing all the way home, on the bus and on the sidewalk, just walking before finally entering my place, where my cat awaited me because he was very hungry.

 I fed him and decided to sleep properly after that. Sleep came fast and so did dreams in which I met Joe again and kissed him passionately in front of his girlfriend. In the dream, she just accepted it and left without saying a word. I woke up even more tired that I had been at arrival. Thank God it’s Saturday, I thought. I decided to stay in my home and just eat and watch TV. No one interrupted me, except Laura that called me to know if I had gotten home all right. Laura had been my friend of many years and the one that got me the job. I owe honesty to her.

 She was surprised at me but even more surprised at Joe. Everyone knew the news that he was going to marry the gorgeous girl of the office and the fact that Laura reminded me of that was awful. She then questioned Joe harshly, stating that if he was sleeping with others, it surely meant he had done it before with other girlfriends and that he was not “husband” material, despite what everyone thought.

 I let her speak. She didn’t stop for a long time and I didn’t say a word. She’s right about it all. But then I recall the way he touched and kissed me. I have had one-night stands before and I know how they go down. People are just sexual in those moments, like animals. But Joe had not been like that with me. Or so I felt… Maybe I was just trying to think about it in a good light instead of really remembering it for what it was. Maybe I’m just too eager to be the one they stay with instead being the one they sleep with.

After hanging up with Laura, I recalled my history of casual sex and concluded that, without a doubt, there was something unique about this time. I had never stayed behind to sleep, which had been a first. Although the alcohol might have knocked me out before I could even think about leaving. But that wasn’t a fair statement because almost every time I had had casual sex, I had done it with alcohol involved. It was making me crazy, for sure. Thinking about him and about his perfect girlfriend. I decided, for the sake of my mind, to stop thinking about it. Or at least, I tried.

 The next Monday was a nightmare. I felt all eyes on me, even when people were just coming to me to congratulate me about the new job. Even my boss thought I hadn’t liked the new office, my face all sad and dreary. I really tried to fake happiness a bit during lunch but that was a tremendous failure and even Laura was looking at me every time, like checking if I was going to screw up.

The hardest part was meeting Joe in a conference room and talking to him for an hour about our next project. If he had any worries, he was very good at faking them because he looked very relaxed all the time, even laughing, telling some jokes and looking at me directly into my eyes, which felt awful. It was the guilt, for sure, that grew even larger when his girlfriend opened the door at the end of the meeting and kissed him on the lips.

 Suddenly I felt so jealous of her. I hated her right there. I could have put my hand around her neck and choke her or at least grab that beautiful glossy hair and pull it hard all around the room. But all that only happened in my head. I left with Laura and she grabbed my hand. Visibly, she knew that he hadn’t gotten to me. Or maybe it wasn’t him as such but the fact that someone had being so nice to me, even if it had been only sexually, and know that possibility vanished.

 I decided not to let that get the best of me. The next day I decided to focus on my career and in honoring my new post in the office. From day one, I was on top of everything and people noticed it and suddenly I stopped thinking about Joe. I even dated a couple of guys after that, none successful relationships but nice people so I didn’t care. It was a surprise however when, the day Joe and the girl were suppose to get married, he called me and acknowledged all that had happened that night. And then he said the most hurtful word I’ve ever heard.

-       I still think about you.

Fuera del tiempo

   Me abracé a él por el frío. Llovía demasiado afuera, el mundo por la ventana se veía opaco y triste. Lo apreté con mis brazos un poco hasta que respondió, cubriéndonos mejor con el cubrecama. Agradecí el gesto porque con frío no podía dormir. Cerré los ojos y antes de que pudiera dejarme llevar por el sueño, sentí otro movimiento. Cuando abrí los ojos de nuevo vi que él se había dado la vuelta y ahora tenía su rostro frente a mí, a unos pocos centímetros. Tenía los ojos cerrados pero era para mi imposible cerrar los míos.

 Lo tenía tan cerca que pude ver cada detalle de su rostro para poder así memorizarlo. Ese fue mi pensamiento en el momento y no pensé si eso me serviría de algo o porque había pensado en hacerlo. Solo detallé su rostro: las pocas pecas, las largas pestañas, la nariz algo grande pero refinada, los labios color rosa, las cejas suaves y su cabello suave y corto. Si me hubiera preguntado como era él, años después, lo hubiera podido decir de memoria, sin dudar con ningún pequeño detalle.

 De repente recordé que ese no era mi hogar, de que debía irme y de que había alguien más en todo esto y entonces no solo sentí apuro sino arrepentimiento y culpa. Nunca había sido mi intención herir a nadie y mucho menos a alguien que yo ni siquiera conocía, más que de vista. Tampoco era mi idea excusarme porque pedir excusas por las acciones que se hacen es una idiotez, sobre todo cuando no te arrepientes de nada y sabes que fue una decisión tomada a consciencia.

 Y así había sido. Es cierto que había bebido bastante pero yo no estaba borracho y sabía que él tampoco. Nadie nos obligo a nada. Es gracioso, ahora que lo pienso, porque él nunca me había gustado de ninguna manera. Es decir, viéndolo en la cama fue el momento en el que me di cuenta lo simplemente hermoso que era. Pero eso jamás lo había visto antes. Ciertamente nunca durante las largas horas de trabajo ni cuando él me exigía más o yo a él. Así había sido por dos años y puedo asegurar que nunca sentí ningún tipo de atracción hacia él.

 Pero en todo caso eso no borraba el hecho de que hacía menos de diez horas, habíamos empezado a hablar entre botella y botella de cerveza. De repente nos dimos cuenta de que éramos más que solo “gente del trabajo”. Y entonces me invitó a su casa y creo que ahí él sabía ya lo que iba a suceder y yo lo presentía también. No se puede pretender ser inocente en esta situación. Es como que te encuentren teniendo sexo con alguien y digas “no es lo que parece”. Es ridículo.

 Apenas llegamos a su casa y tomamos más, fue él quien inició todo, besándome en el baño. Ahora que lo pienso, puede que en ese momento haya reunido todo su coraje y se haya decidido por hacerlo de una vez sin pensarlo tanto, y por eso decidió entrar cuando yo estaba acabando de orinar y besarme ahí mismo. El resto, como dicen, es historia. Sabía que ahora debía irme porque simplemente, por todo, no podía quedarme. No quería hablar con él ni tener que hacer las preguntas incomodas que, al menos yo, sentía que debían ser respondidas.

 Con todo el sigilo del que fui capaz, recogí mi ropa y mis cosas y salí a la sala del lugar. Allí me cambié y cuando me aseguré de que tuviera todo conmigo, salí del sitio pensando que jamás volvería allí. Verán, el problema con él no era que fuera mi compañero ni que fuera alguien con el que yo nunca pensé en tener nada. No. El problema era su novia. Una relación de tres años en la que yo me había metido y en la que, sinceramente, no tenía ganas de estar.

De ella no sabía yo mucho. La había visto algunas veces, cuando dejaba a su novio en el trabajo o lo recogía para almorzar. Parecía una buena persona y eso era lo que me torturaba más. Parecía más sencillo que se tratase de una arpía que le hacía la vida imposible a mi compañero, que lo había “llevado” a cometer esa traición. Pero no era así. Y la verdad era que no quería discutirlo porque eso haría que mi culpa fuera más clara y pesada en mi conciencia y no quería eso. Quien lo querría?

 Los días siguientes me comporté lo más normal que pude en el trabajo. Incluso sonreí algunas veces, haciéndole ver que no pensaba en lo sucedido y que todo era exactamente igual. Lo más incomodo eran sus llamadas, que obviamente tenía que atender. Hablábamos del trabajo y al final, siempre, había una pausa incomoda en la que yo sentía que quería decirme algo y por eso me despedía y le colgaba. Como dije antes, yo no necesitaba hablar. Y si él sí lo necesitaba, era algo que él debía solucionar.

 Todo estuvo bien hasta el día que los vi juntos en la entrada de la empresa. Como iba con una compañera especialmente chismosa, ella se abalanzó sobre ellos para forzar una presentación y debo decir que casi no lo logro. Sentí mucha vergüenza pero también rabia. Porque tenía que traerla aquí? Obviamente no había pensado en mí al hacerlo? Pero, porque habría de pensar en mí? Estaba ya volviéndome loco.

 Ese día la saludé y ella me sonrió y parecían una pareja muy feliz, excepto por la sonrisa forzada de él. Créanme, después de tener relaciones sexuales con alguien, se sabe a la perfección si están fingiendo una sonrisa o no. Es como, si lo hace uno bien, los cuerpos se alinearan y hubiera una comprensión profunda del otro, que va más allá de lo entendible. Por eso solo pude saludarlos dos segundos y luego me fui a mi casa y lloré casi toda una hora, in razón aparente.

 Lo más extraño de todo fue lo que sucedió esa noche. Era un viernes y decidí hacer una pequeña maratón de películas. Las acompañaría con bastante comida y vestido sin nada más que una camiseta y mis “boxers”, es decir con mi vestimenta para dormir. A las once de la noche, iba a la mitad de la tercer película. Me asusté cuando timbró el intercomunicador. Detuve la película y contesté y el celador del edificio dijo que alguien quería subir. Era mi compañero de trabajo. Sin pensarlo dije “Que siga”, pero me arrepentí segundos después.

 Pero ya era tarde. Me dio el tiempo justo de ponerme unos pantalones antes de que timbrara y yo abriera apresuradamente, de lo cual también me lamenté después. Él entró y lo primero que hice fue preguntarle si había venido por el trabajo, aunque era obvio que ese no era el caso. Se sentó en mi sofá y me dijo que había intentado decirle a su novia pero no había podido. Ahora ella estaba en una fiesta de cumpleaños de su mejor amiga y él le había dicho que se sentía algo mal y prefería irse a la casa.

 Me miró y pude ver ese gran detalle que había olvidado de su cara: el color de sus ojos. Se veían enorme y algo húmedos. Por un momento, pensé que iba a llorar pero no lo hizo, en cambio sí me pidió algo de beber. Le pasé una lata de cerveza y se tomó casi la mitad de una sentada, antes de volver a hablarme. Parecía que le costaba demasiado hablar e incluso pensar. No puedo decir que no lo comprendía.

 Cuando volvió a hablar, me dijo que desde la universidad le habían gustado otros hombres pero que jamás había hecho nada al respecto pero que en el año que venía de pasar se había dado cuenta que yo le gustaba. En ese momento sonreí y no lo oculté, para mí eso era un halago difícil de creer. Él prosiguió diciendo que lo que había ocurrido era de lo mejor que le había pasado a él en tiempos recientes. En ese momento salieron de mi las palabras: “Y ella que?”.

 Él agachó la cabeza y se tomó el resto de la cerveza de un golpe. Me respondió que ya no la quería como antes y que sabía que eso lo decía mucha gente, muy seguido. Pero era verdad. Solo que no sabía como decírselo porque ella sí lo amaba. En ese momento vi una lágrima rodar por su rostro y, sin control alguno, me acerque a él. Y de nuevo pasó lo que sucede cuando dos personas que se sienten atraídas la una por la otra están demasiado cerca.

 Ese día puedo decir que hicimos el amor porque no fue solo sexo. Algo cambió. Debo decir que cuando todo terminó, volví a pensar en ella y de nuevo me sentí culpable. Pero entonces sentí también su presencia y su boca y sus brazos y entonces no importó nada más. El presente podía esperar porque ya no sentía que estuviera en el tiempo. Este parecía haberse detenido y, honestamente, hubiera preferido que se hubiera quedado así para siempre.

Unexpected

  Somewhere, a clock announced time. The sound came from somewhere near but not from inside the room. With his eyes shut, Andrew could only hear the sound of the clock, which died fast. He finally opened his eyes and realized it was very early. He could see a blue morning outside, one of those cold mornings that only happen before seven or eight. Andre just stared at his window. He was warm and cozy there but he probably needed to come out of his sheets soon as…

 He remembered. It was Saturday. He thanked God, whichever he believed in, because he just wanted to stay there all morning. The night before he had done something he never did and now it seemed like a memory from a time long passed. He had called this guy he knew and invited him in and just went crazy with him. His head was still slightly turning because of the alcohol but he didn’t feel any hangover.

 Andrew stood up and looked out the window. The street below was deserted except for a couple of older women that seemed to be going to the market. The young man decided to the kitchen. He may not be drunk still but he was very thirsty. He walked distracted, thinking of what he had done the night before. Pouring some orange juice in a glass, he realized the guy from the night before had forgotten his wallet. It was right there, just in front of the TV.

 The young man opened his fridge again and realized he had nothing to do a decent breakfast with. No eggs, no cheese, no ham. And in the pantry, it was the same story: no bread or crackers, not even potato chips. So, he had to take a walk down to the store. He went back to his bedroom, put on some loose pants (the kind you would wear for the gym) and an old t-shirt. He grabbed a coat, the keys and a bill he always left in a secret stash for occasions like this. When he was at the door, he realized he had almost forgotten his cellphone. Once he had it, he went out.

 Effectively, there was a cold weather outside. The sun was apparently trying to warm people up but it wasn’t too high up to make any difference. It was pleasant to feel the heat in the face but that was it. There were two blocks between Andrew’s building and the small market the old ladies he had seen before were headed for. He actually saw them arguing for which tomatoes looked better.

 Andrew grabbed a small cart and looked for some eggs, white bread and cereal. He loved the supermarket and going alone. This was because he felt he could imagine the lives of everyone in there, he could try to guess what kind of people they were and the moment when they would be eating their groceries. Maybe the man buying the salmon wanted to impress a lady with a fancy diner and he was certain the guy who didn’t remember the name of the chicken part he was supposed to buy, had being sent there by his wife. The old ladies were probably going to cook a nice breakfast for both of them or some grandchildren. There was also a woman and Andrew that, like him, she lived alone. He was always alone and now he had gotten a guy to fuck with...

 Then, the cellphone rang. It vibrated too and this combination made Andrew severely annoyed, especially because it had interrupted his wandering through the supermarket. The number that appeared on the screen was unknown to him, so he didn’t answer. He just pressed the red part of the screen and pocketed his cellphone. He had arrived at the aisle of instant meals and he grabbed a few for the following nights. He had no idea when he would go to do proper shopping.

The cellphone rang again and this time he answered before he could see the number. He answered with an annoyed “Yes?” but then froze right where he was: it was the guy from the night before. He seemed ashamed to call but he asked Andrew if he could go by the house. He had left his wallet there and, obviously, he needed for his daily living. The guy asked Andrew if he could go right away and, without even thinking about it, our main character said yes. They hung up fast.

 Andrew stayed there, looking at the microwave meals like an idiot. But he wasn’t really looking at them. The problem was that he didn’t want to look at that guy again; he really didn’t want him in his house. But, why hadn’t he said anything? Andre could have opened his mouth and say “I’ll leave it with the doorman” or something, but he didn’t. And he was ashamed and worried he didn’t.

 After he had paid his food, Andrew walked to his house hoping not to see the guy standing there, at the door. He wasn’t. He felt relieved but not so much when, entering his apartment, he saw the wallet the guy had left there. It was funny, now that he thought of it, to call him just “that guy” on his mind. He had no idea of his name.

 The truth was that guy had come out of the Internet and the only intention Andrew had had with him was to have sex. That was it. He didn’t want him back. Besides, there was another thing. The guy was very good looking. This may seem a bit shallow but he was rather cute. And that had made Andre very nervous the night before. That’s why he had so much to drink. Now that he thought of it, it was lucky that he wasn’t puking like crazy in his bathroom.

 He didn’t consider himself a cute guy and he was so ashamed a guy like the one that had come to his apartment had come for him. It was just ridiculous, or so he thought. But he couldn’t think of it for long because the buzzer interrupted his thinking. It was the doorman announcing someone called Alex. He was going to say he didn’t know anyone by that name but then he realized that was probably the guy’s actual name, so he said, “let him in”.

 Andrew grabbed the wallet and put it on the counter, next to his groceries. “Stupid me!” he said out loud. He opened the wallet and grabbed one of many cards inside. It was his ID. Yes, this was Alexander Hoffman’s wallet. How stupid of him not having a quick look at the wallet, at least to know the name. The doorbell rang so he put the ID back inside the wallet and left it on the kitchen counter.

 He opened the door, pulling his shirt straight. The guy on the other side was a bit taller than he was, hair long but nicely cut and he had dark stubble, perfectly framing his face.

-       Hey.

-       Hey...

 Andrew didn’t know what to say. Alex looked a bit uneasy.

-       Come in. Sorry.

 Alex came in and saw his wallet on the counter. He grabbed and went through everything that was in there.

-       Thanks man. Thought I had lost it.

-       It’s ok.

 Alex smiled at Andrew. Andrew blushed.

-       You’re cute.

 Andrew burst in uncontrolled laughter.

-       Sorry… That… It’s funny.

-       What is?

-       You saying that.

-       Why? You are cute.

 This time Andrew didn’t laugh. Alex looked at him and then shook his wallet in front of Andrew.

-       In the mood for breakfast? For your help?

 Andrew smiled, still a bit red. Then, he nodded.