CHAPTER 04

I plug in my phone. After a glass of wine, I’m not so overwhelmed by the prospect of hooking up with him anymore. Or at least exploring the option. People who hang out on casual dates usually hook up, and if I had his in my face right now, I would have absolutely no idea what to do with it. So with trembling hands, I take out my laptop. Where do I even start? How do I even find gay ?

I search “two guys ” and hold my breath as the pages start loading. But I am shocked to find that there are all kinds of gay , daddies and bears and group and and leather and . Straight was pretty much a bunch of blondes who looked like Barbies, but apparently gays have all kinds of genres and subgenres and sub-sub-genres. Where did I even begin?

I click a video of two Latin guys who I guess look pretty handsome. They start doing things, pretty dirty things, and I study closely. They kiss, they pull down each other’s shorts, they do the thing that the blondes did to the muscle guys in my straight videos…

I close my eyes for a second, my strength wavering. But then I remind myself I can do this. It’s the same thing, just with a different gender. It’s the same thing…it’s the same …it’s the same love…

I refocus on the video. I watch how they blow each other, how they , and finally how they do…the other thing. The final thing. Honestly it looks like an awkward, painful position for two dudes to be in, but what do I know?

By the end of the video, I look down and notice my pants are completely wet. Oops…

Before Kyuhyun arrives, I take a shower, again, comb my black hair, then re-comb it when I decide I look terrible. What if the bus thing was momentary insanity, and I feel nothing at all when I see him again, and I’ve given my evening away to a stranger? And why can’t I make my hair look perfect?

I’ve never given a about any of this before, but suddenly I can’t stop caring. To kill time and get some energy out of my muscles, I take my aunt’s little dog, Bugsy, who I’m watching while she gets surgery, out for a walk. On a corner, a guy wearing a camouflage hat laughs at me and shakes his head.

“Hey, man - he calls - You gotta be pretty secure in your manhood to walk that tiny little thing, eh?”

He laughs derisively and walks away, but I don’t even know how to process what he’s said. Why would anyone care about the size of the dog they were with, anyway? Why was that something he’d even noticed? Big dog, small dog…who gave a ?

I guess what I’m really wondering is this: deep down, what really is masculinity, and why does it seem to be so fragile?

oOo

Kyuhyun appears outside my front window an hour later, sixty minutes that feel like six years and six seconds at the same time. Kyuhyun…the openly gay guy…from the bus…on my porch.

The sight of a male form on my stoop leaves me breathless and nervous and a little panicked. What is it about this man? Why does he make me feel like electrified pudding?

I finally open the door and look at him for a second. He’s just so…pretty. I feel more comfortable admitting that now. His perfect nose and plump lips and heavy brown eyebrows are feminine, but in a way that somehow looks perfect on a guy. And again I feel that weird insecurity, that need to impress and astound him…

“Uh…hi” - I say, trying not to sound like a moron. Still, I feel slightly more at ease around him than yesterday, since I’ve gotten to know him a bit via text.

“Hey! Can I come in, or is this a porch party?”

His voice is so low and scratchy, I have to adjust my hearing to understand him.

“Oh, sure, totally, let me move, I’m being a total idiot.”

He smiles and walks into my house, and he smells fresh and clean and ual somehow, it´s a musky human smell.

He stops halfway down the hall, pointing at the wall. His eye contact is so unwavering and speaks of so much inner confidence, it’s almost unsettling.

“Wait…a Lady Gaga picture? You said you were straight?”

I laugh and walk closer.

“Remember, my apartment is being renovated, this is my parents’ house - I point at my parents with Gaga in a white dressing room - That was when we went to one her first show at Seoul arena, when my dad’s company signed her.”

He shakes his head a little.

“Signed her?”

“Oh, my dad works for Live Music Nation, they handle concerts and tours for people.”

“For Lady Gaga?”

“They’ve been lucky.” - I nod. He in some air and keeps going, stopping in the kitchen.

“Well, nice. And I’m glad we’re doing this, by the way. What should we do first?”

My stomach jumps.

“I don’t know…did you eat?”

“I’m fine – he says and looks from the gym bag in the kitchen nook, to the dishes piled in the sink, to the basket ball by the fridge - And okay, maybe you are straight.”

I l