Even hungover, I love waking up and seeing that intense blue of the sky, those patches seen between bright green leaves of ginkgo trees, this viewed from the window over my bed. Even on this hungover morning, waking up with far too little sleep, that sky, the brightness of it, made me so happy, so eager to get out of bed and be a part of this thing, these bright colors, this life, this gorgeous summer.
The drinking started fairly early yesterday with an Irish coffee late in the afternoon, drank with the hopes of both perking me up and loosening me up before my date with Ryan. We went and ate some food and talked about superheroes, cartoons from our childhood, and fourth of julys.
Afterward, with dusk in its last throes, a faint orange line tracing the horizon as you looked toward Greenpoint, we walked back to my house to play Scrabble. I drank some beer and Ryan didn't because, sadly, he does not drink beer. Yet another sign that this boy and I do not have that much in common. There is something about people that do not drink beer, something that clashes with something in me. There are plenty of nice people that don't drink beer, Ryan among them, but there is also something a little off about them, that I have a hard time bonding with them, feeling at ease with them. I am not sure what the right adjective is, the right descriptor, none of these are precise, but they hint at what it is I want to try to say: uptight, too mannered, perhaps even dainty.
So after downing my beer and him taking a sip from his, I poured us whiskey. That, he was not a fan of either. And since it was already poured, I had a hell of a lot of whiskey, and thus that hangover that I was mentioning earlier. I was wasted and talking in tongues, babbling, presenting theses on every topic that popped into my head. This, the drunkenness, thankfully did not kick in until after I won Scrabble.
After Scrabble, we went into my room, made conversation near the bed, polite, both of us wanting the same thing, physically placing ourselves where what we wanted to occur would occur, but none bold enough to say so. And so there was that polite conversation, that formality, and I could only take so much of it, and I tackled him, kissing started, clothes came off, that dancing around the dance over, the dance started. I laughed a lot and had an excellent time, his cock in my mouth, mine in his. This for a while, lots of play, and then he sat on top of me, took our cocks together in his hand and jacked us off, saying first one to come wins - that great sense of play that was there. And technically I won, but shortly thereafter, he also won - everyone's a winner in this game - and we wiped ourselves off with a towel by my bed, and laid there, sat there, telling stories about our families.
We got dressed, the night still young, and me, drunk and caffeinated, ready to go. We went to Fun, which was, as per usual, relatively unexciting. He was ready to fall asleep on the bench there and told me he was going to go home and crash. So I walked him back to the subway, and still drunk, still buzzed on Cafe Bustelo, I went to the Not Straight Outta Compton party at Alligator. There, lots of friends spotted, lots of crushes and former crushes. I danced a lot to songs I can't remember now, but songs, which last night, I was able to remember most of the lyrics to. And I sweated that bottle of whiskey out of me, that and those beers, that coffee, and more - so much sweat. And I was saturated and didn't really care that much because there was still the swirling co-mingling of coffee and an excess of alcohol making me in love with everything, every noise, and every male body spotted. At some point, bored with my own thinking, my own tendency to want to make out with ex-crushes, and more so, un in love with whatever song was playing (because were the right song playing, anything could be overlooked, ignored, overcome), I left.
Out on the street, my body felt amazing. Covered in moisture of my own making, the night air cooling that, and the sensation, just one of many in the night that filled me with joy.