And then, without break, smoothly blended from whichever moment preceded it, whichever drunken conversation I was engaged in passionatly, I was talking to this young gay couple, Shawn and Jason, who wanted me to come home with them. I hesitated at first, sort of scared about a threesome, of what dynamics are at play, if I would be up to par with these boys, and then I drunkenly thought to myself, "Fuck it, it is summer, I don't have to get up for work tomorrow, now is the hour, the age to be sexually adventurous." And so, I told them that I would, and they said something dirty and one of them bit my finger or something that got me really hot, and I told them that I just had to say bye to my friends and then we could go. And I ran and ran to the end of the block, excited about what possible sexual thrills would occur as soon as I said good-bye to the PIRGers, I ran perhaps wanting to speed up the start of this threesome, the getting naked with other boys and the furtive touching. And I got to the end of the block, said good-bye to Bonnie and Rebecca, and then smoothly blended, another event in a continous narrative that seemed perfectly logical, I was in a new moment, forgetting about the threesome, picking Bonnie up off the curb, who had just fallen. I tried to sturdy her since she was falling all over the place.
And then Eric somehow made an appearance (for those of you who don't know, Eric is the boy I went out on a sort of date with a few weeks ago and then blew him off until I told him I didn't like him), and he told me something jokingly about how mean I was to him. And I was drunk, and was concerned, and was ready to talk forever, so I pulled Eric from the crowd so he could tell me why I was an asshole. And he did, he mentioned how petty the CIA thing was, how he doesn't think I am comfortable being gay, how I am afraid of intimacy, and blah blah blah, all lines that sounded right on the mark, too on the mark, it made me like him for his precise criticism. [But of course, I found out this morning, that Bonnie had told him all of these things in the bar, about the reasons that I didn't like him]. I was deep into this serious conversation with Eric, right at the point where he is telling me why I should not just have casual sex, why I should try to develop intimate freindships with guys - right at this point, when the couple came up to me and tried to get me to leave - and so, I had to tell them that I couldn't tonight, that I'd see them around. I was sort of sad about missing out on the threesome but Eric would have killed me if I had ditched him for those two skeezy guys.
Blah blah blah, more and more talk, everyone is now long gone - so we walk towards our respective homes together, talking more and more. At some point in time, we were showing each other our cartwheels and handstands. Or he was showing me his, and I was making sad attempts to do them. Then we were climbing some tree, and he said "Where do I go now?" since there were no more strong limbs to climb up higher on, and I urged him to reach for the sky, just half jokingly. That the sky was the limit, and to keep going.
And we kept going. Going until at some point in time we decided to abandon the heavens for the sea, the water, Lake Mendota. We walked down to James Madison Park, stripped naked and walked forever through shallow water, through the densest seaweed [Bonnie has since told me that seaweed doesn't live in lakes, and that it is something else, but she couldn't think of what it was, and I am fine saying seaweed, so I am going to keep calling it seaweed. All you marine life people can go to fucking hell if you want to quibble over squishy, slimy green plants that live in water], moving through this heavenly feeling seaweed until I could get to someplace deep, someplace away from the shore, away from silly, shallow conversations, away from cars, clubs, lights, and noise. Deeper and deeper into the water until I got to a place that was all right by me, and I watched this beautifully defined torso moving through the water, leaving a path of ripples, an arrow that was slowly making its way towards me.
For a brief moment, the ripples subsided, and Eric stood in front of me and we smiled because the night was beautiful and our excited cocks were hid just below the surface of the water. Sebastin the crab was about to break into song, singing, "Sha la la don't be shy, go on and kiss the..." And the solemnity, the forced attempt at it, the something needs to happen silence needed to be broken, and so I took charge and leveled a big hunk of slimy seaweed right at Eric's head. I laughed, he did too, and soon we were in a seaweed fight, occasionally wrestling each other, occasionally feeling an excited cock brush against a leg, and feeling alive, that things were all right in this world, better than all right, perfect even. With the perfect transition of none at all, we were savoring the feeling, the night, the slimy seaweed all over our bare skin, the lake smell, and we descended, or perhaps even ascended, into a long silence. But not a silly-something's-gotta-happen one, instead a something-is-happening-one where we each floated in the water, swam around and tried to figure out what exactly it was, made the decision that whatever it was, it was lovely. And we let it consume us.
We stayed in the water forever, enjoying this thing called life. Maybe not forever, obviously, but it fucking was - each moment was and is forever - there was no worrying about my lack of a job, my family, far too many numerous guilt-inducing things from my past, the future of school, and the lack of one beyond that, just an eternal present - a forever that lasted until I started to shiver, until Eric wrapped his arms around me to warm me up and I felt his hard cock in the curve of my back, I pulled his arms to make them tighter against me, his arms and his cock. We watched a family of ducks on the shore of the lake, watched them do as ducks tend to do and waddle their way into the water. Waddle waddle motherfucking waddle. We rolled around in the shallow water by the shore, found whatever excuse we could to touch each other, to glide palms over wet skin, shivered even when we weren't that cold so we could hug each other, touch skin to skin. Cocks bumped into because it felt good, rubbing a hard cock against his leg, or his against my leg, and all of this until I really was too cold, shivering too much to stay in the water anymore. We got dressed slowly, reluctantly on the shore, watched each other get dressed, and once dressed made our way to the swingset, where we again reached for the heavens, swinging as far as our kicked feet and pulls on swing chains would take us. Feet inches away from tree braches, high up ones, the sky just beyond that, and beyond that something else, something also obviously wonderful. Kicking and swinging forever, yes, forever asshole, laughing loudly until we stopped kicking, until we let our swings slowly run their course, arcing lower and lower with each back and forward, talking on the barely swinging swings about nothing, the wonderful sort of nothing, until tired as hell since it was nearing five, we made our way back to our respective homes.
We walked for a long while together down University Avenue, the events of the night still occuring, the rush of living still in me, the sky slowly getting lighter as Homer's "rosy-fingered Dawn" slowly, very slowly started to reveal her early shape. We seperated at some block intersecting University, because I am weird and was starving and was ready for the night to end, to go to my bed by myself with mircowaved leftover pizza. Eric didn't seem too upset, because I think he is already thoroughly convinced that I am weird. We kissed goodnight, a lovely kiss. Said goodnight, and then not wholly satisfied, wanting to extend it for a few more brief moments, we kissed once more, lovely again, and then I finally made my way home, watched the dawn slowly but surely make more and more progress in bringing my night to an end, to a conclusion of sorts.