A Beautiful Smile

"You’re single? How’s that possible?”

I don’t know what to say to that. I could tell him there’s probably something wrong me, the way I can’t seem to hold on to a boyfriend if he were covered in Velcro.

“I was seeing someone it didn’t work.”
Not entirely untrue.

“I see.”
“You see what?”
“I see the most beautiful man in the room.”

I smile. There’s something charming about the way he says that. I touch the small of his back, then slide my hand down his pants. A smooth, round, perfect, bubble butt.
“You’re not wearing any underwear.”
“Never do.”
“Why not?”
“Less laundry.”

He reciprocates. His hand touches my waist, then pushes its way under my jeans.
“You on the other hand ARE wearing underwear.”
“Always do.”
“We should do something about that.”

He smiles that smile and I can’t help but like him. He’s gorgeous, not cute, not hot, he’s fucking unbelievably gorgeous. I don’t need to look, I know. He has a perfect stomach, perfect chest, perfect everything. He commands attention. My attention and the attention of every gay man in the room, and there are many.

A blonde model type walks over starts taking to him, shamelessly flirting, his boyfriend not more than three feet away. I watch him, the boyfriend, I can tell he’s getting mad. He has this look on his face, this has happened before, shameless flirting not three feet away. He finally pulls model boy away, from the corner of my eye I can tell they’re arguing. They leave.

The kid in front of me, oblivious, unaware of what just happened. The fight, the flirting, the boyfriend. He has no idea how beautiful he is. No clue as to the incredible power he holds.

“We have six more hours until your flight leaves,” he says, sad look on his face.
“Don’t waste them.”
He smiles that smile and I can’t help but like him. Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous.

We head out to another party, meet up with his roommates. They seem nice. They have their own lexicon. One is sweet, balding, a bit chubby, he likes me I can tell. Keeps getting me drinks. The other is tall, the funny one. Handsome, though not my type.

We hang out, me him, his chubby friend, the tall one. At one point I go to the bathroom, just as I’m about to unzip my pants, the door opens, he smiles that smile I can’t help but like. He grabs my face and kisses my lips, then my nipples. He's gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous. I touch his body under his shirt. Perfect stomach, perfect chest, perfect everything. I kiss his neck his skin. He lets out a silent moan, he’s breathing heavy. Then just like that, he sneaks out.

After the party we all go to back his place. It’s late, But his roommates, they won’t go to bed. There are jokes I don’t understand, their own lexicon.

At one point he farts. Usually that’s a turn off, don't like that. But he’s fucking gorgeous, even his farts are cute.
He laughs.
“Dude you’re gross,” says the tall friend.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that time we were laying naked in bed spooning, and you let one out right on my lap.”
“I did?”
“Yeah it was quite disgusting.”
“It had to have been a long time ago.”
“Nope. It was last year.”

They drink, they talk, but no one retires. I’m starting to wonder, What the hell am I doing here? The boy approaches me at a party, talks to me all night, feels me up in the bathroom, but won’t seal the deal.

Then he falls asleep on the couch. Just like that. Clothes on, head tilted. I try to wake him up, but he’s out to lunch.
“Why don’t you take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch with him here,” says his tall friend.

I go to his room, and stare at the ceiling. This is not how I envisioned this night. I stay up thinking about how I hate being rejected. I’m starting to lose faith in men, in myself. It seems the more I date, the less I know. I’m tired of guessing, tired of being jerked around. I’m confused. What just happened here? Did he lose interest? Did I come on too strong? Did I say something? What the fuck?

In the morning, the chubby boy gives me a lift to the airport. Me, him, the car, the snow. It’s cold outside, cold inside too.
“So are you disappointed? You didn’t even get laid.”
“Would have been nice.”
“I was going to warn you. It wasn’t going to happen, not with Alex around.”
“Yeah, figured that much.”
“You did?”
“They used to have a thing didn’t they?”
“About a year ago.”
“And Alex still likes him.”
“He’s obsessed.”
“And he doesn’t want to hurt Alex’s feelings.”
“Something like that. How did you know?”

There was something about Alex’s story, the one about spooning, the way he forced it into the conversation. The nakedness, the timing. That story wasn’t meant for him, it was meant for me. It finally hit me as I laid in bed trying to fall asleep. He snuck in and out of the bathroom so Alex wouldn’t notice, and probably fell asleep on the couch because it was easier than having to deal with an angry best friend the next morning. It wasn’t me,it wasn’t something I said or anything I did. Just another fucked up situation, one I'm way too old for.

“He’s really a good guy,” says the chubby one.
I look but I don’t say anything.
“He really is.”
I don’t say a thing.

Comments

[clark]

poor ethan...if it will make you feel a little better: the only reason why i cant find the courage to visit your friend "josh" in rio is because i wouldnt want him to be the "alex" in your story...and i definitely would not want to be the tall guy in the story either...or the chubby guy that gets stuck driving the broken-hearted boy all the way to the airport...but i know that "josh" is in fact a really, really, one-of-a-kind GOOD PERSON ^_^

[pette]

feel u dude ,good thing u donot live in the same town that would have been worse.

[Joe]

You write very well, but sometimes I think your stories are a bit embellished.

[ryan]

yep, embellished, but entertaining

[clark]

perhaps its time to get mr gray on "oprah" ...
but reading good writing is good for the mind, which in turn is great for the body and health, mmmmmkay ...

[Johnny]

Ethan,
Hi! Fun read as always, but how do you end up in these situations?
I read this a long time ago and it's so true. If you want to know where a situation is going, look back to the beginning and all the signs are there, whether you noticed them or not. The tone and direction is set from the start. I wasn't there and I don't know these guys but I can't help but think there was something that hinted where this would go, from the beginning of that first encounter.
Anyhoo, keep contributing to the letter world. :)

[Roy]

Damn...you really got some great luck, huh?

[Bobby Alexander]

funny thing is, sometimes farts are cute! anyways, hey you live and learn right? it could be that you were spared from an even more complicated situation.

[rob]

wow - dude, you can really write. great stuff. perfect ending too. sounds like you really have your self together. excellent.

rob