I have pretty much nothing in common with Victor and he even kind of annoys me with some of the things he says, but that doesn't matter because there is a physical attraction that for whatever reasons, and probably only for a short time, allows those things to be overlooked. Because it's not a conversation we have. Surely, things are said, but everything that is said, however unsexual seems a kind of foreplay, that eye contact and standing close to one another - a tease of sorts, prolonging the advent of the pleasure you know is going to happen at the end of the night, a talking with the knowledge that it is only a formality.
And so there's that. But then there are also the things he says - how he likes Heatherette and Bret Easton Ellis and works at Genre and a clothes store - all things I sort of detest. And how he doesn't know lot of basic things I reference. The lack of shared cultural references makes conversation kind of hard sometimes, and if there wasn't that erotic charge when talking, I probably wouldn't continue to talk to him. One thing, he said though, maybe just joking, but I don't think so and it really annoyed me because it is so common - that racism in the gay world where you make your racial erotic tastes too explicit.
I introduced Ethan to this boy that we both have had a crush on so that I could talk to Victor without also having to talk to Ethan, basically tried to get rid of him and did so by introducing him to his crush, Roman. Victor could tell I was also sort of into this boy and afterward really snidely said, "So, you're into Asians?" And I told him that no, I am into really hot, intelligent boys. And then he told me that he wasn't into Asians like you would tell someone you don't like sweet potatoes. And ARGHHHH - why are gay men so stupid and racist? These things are not okay to say - they are only okay to say if you want to talk about them and talk about why - if you follow up with some analysis as to how you were taught certain racial preferences and by some desire to try to unlearn those.
And I said something to him and he said something back and because the erotic charge was too strong, those things didn't matter. The conversation retook its course of leading to sex. I drank so much vodka, even had had some before leaving my house and try to keep up with me if you can, but I have got a tolerance to outdrink an infantry. And Victor and I consumed a bunch of drinks, him telling me to down mine faster and I finished mine and he finished his and not too long afterward at Phoneix, Big Talker was puking in the bathroom. We sat outside on the street for a long time, him trying to feel less ill, and then went to hang out at Nowhere where he sobered enough so that he could actually stand up not supported by a wall and where that loaded potential in the tone of our voices and the looks in our eyes as we talked finally realized itself and he came home with me and we sucked each other off and jacked off and cleaned it all up with a towel before he headed home to wake up for work in the morning.