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“But he’s the only guy I’ve ever really liked, like, after I’ve slept with them.”
Chris could practically feel Brendan judging him, but he appreciated his effort to keep that to himself and soldier on with the conversation. “Maybe get him a gift, and maybe don’t get repulsed by him.”
“It’s not conscious,” Chris repeated.
“And maybe you need a psychologist.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Brendan looked at him like he was about to burst with a torrent of words and Chris laughed again.
“It’s like,” he sat back and rocked from side to side, eyes on the windows, “it’s who I am. I can’t help it, I just lose all interest.”
“But not with this guy?”
Chris was about to reply when Brendan did it for him. “Not yet, I get it.”
Chris sighed. Brendan clearly didn’t, but Chris appreciated the sentiment.
“Maybe tell him the problem,” Brendan said.
“Tell him at any point in the near future, directly following orgasm, I will feel disgusted and want to flee as far from his body and smell as humanly possible?”
Brendan’s face went through a series of emotions—shock, judgement, hilarity. He settled on the last one.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, man, it’s better than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Never seeing him again, always wondering if it might’ve been different this time.”
“And if it’s not?”
“You’ve at least given him a heads up, let him decide if you’re worth it.”
“He’s not going to think I am, trust me.”
“Then he’s not worth it.”
Chris grinned. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Shut up, are you going to tell him?”
Chris groaned. “Alright.”
“Good. Now can we pick a fucking logo so I can get home to my woman.”
“It’s the teal. We’ve both known it’s the teal for hours.”
“No shit, but someone had to babysit your sadness.”
Chris laughed, but when they got up to leave and he thanked him, they both knew it was genuine.
Chris decided to take on at least half of Brendan’s advice. He wasn’t going to tell Joq about his problem—God, no, even the thought of giving breath to those words made him want to run a mile in the opposite direction—but he could go the gift route to show he was seriously interested.
Joq had said he was getting a cat.
Chris ordered the Rolls Royce of cat toys, stands, researched feline vets in Melbourne and opened an account with one near Joq’s place and told them to send him any and all future bills. He had the stuff delivered, sent Joq the link to the vet with the explanation, then sent him a long text with detailed pictures of a house in the US where they’d fitted all of the walls with landings so the cats could stroll around at their leisure and asked if Joq would be interested in getting his place decked out like that.
