“Must have been lonely.”
“It was.”
“And you never…”
“Never what?”
“Dated?”
“A little. I wasn’t, like, a regular at Micky’s or anything. But yeah, I went out. I dated a bit. I’d hook up from time to time, and every now and then one of them would look at me a certain way, like he was trying to figure out where he knew me from. Which happens all the time in LA. Bump into someone with your shopping cart at the market, there’s a good chance they played a panty-sniffer on an episode of CSI. I once gave head to a guy who was on Netflix’s number one show in Canada.”
Will’s mouth dropped open in pantomime shock. “No!”
“I did! And before you ask, yes, he did tell me that particular fact during.”
“The glamour. It’s almost too much.”
“I know, right?” Patrick paused. “But then I did The Bullet Journal, and I thought at first that I could keep on just having these low-key not-quite-dates, like nothing would really change. Until I met up with a guy from Grindr and the first thing he did when I walked in the door was ask me for a selfie.”
“Wow,” said Will. “Have some chill, gay!”
“I turned right around and got the hell out of there.”
“And nothing since?”
Patrick shrugged. “Nothing since.”
Will gazed into the middle distance for a moment; then his eyes snapped back to Patrick’s.
“That’s four years.”
“What?”
“I may have read your IMDb, don’t worry about it. The Bullet Journal came out four years ago. You really mean to say I’m the first person you’ve…?”
Patrick cringed. “Don’t. It’s so embarrassing when you say it out loud like that.”
“No. No, it’s not.” Will slid his now-empty plastic cup across the table until it nudged against Patrick’s water. “I feel honored.” He glanced around the room, adding: “And also like you have got a lot of catching up to do. Shall we…?”
“Get the fuck out of here?” Patrick replied, lowering his voice until it was barely even a whisper, and uttering bashfully in Will’s ear: “I thought you’d never ask.”
Will grabbed his jacket, and within seconds they were outside, having said good-bye to nobody. Unprompted, Will called an Uber to hail a ride back to his place. Patrick felt a swell of affection and appreciation for Will understanding that there could be no digital evidence of what was about to happen, but something else was happening here, too. Will opened the car door for Patrick when the taxi arrived, steering him in and shutting the door behind him before walking around to his own side. He did the same when they arrived at his apartment.
“I told you I was taking you out tonight,” he said when Patrick questioned him, unlocking his front door and gripping Patrick’s hand. “And now I’m taking you home.”
The self-assuredness with which he said this had an effect on Patrick that he didn’t fully understand. He knew he was gay, that being attracted to men was kind of the whole deal of that, and he had certainly been drawn to confident, commanding types in the past.
Patrick had bottomed before. A long time ago. Had enjoyed it. Wanted to do it again. There were toys in his house back in Studio City to prove it. He had even thought that he might want to with Will, although he had been uncertain how that would work. He had been attracted to Will’s softness, his fey humor. He was a beautiful thing that Patrick wanted to possess, to grip tightly as his own, and that was exactly what he had done the night before. As deeply uncool and heteronormative as it probably was to think so, everything about this fabulous man until now had screamed Fuck me, at least once quite literally. But to see Will taking control like this, to be marched into the flat and then into the bedroom like he was the prey and the prize…Fuck, why did this turn him on even more?
“Will—” he began, unsure even of what he wanted to say.
“Shut up.” Will’s voice was different. Not deeper, exactly, but stronger. Authoritative. Patrick complied, felt like a complete sissy for doing so, and was taken aback even further by how hot that was to him. He went to kiss Will but was pushed back. He stood there dumbly, raising his arms obediently as Will undressed him. There was none of the foreplay here that they had indulged in prior, and yet there was still a romance to Will’s efficient movements, the way he folded each item of Patrick’s clothing before placing them down. At six foot one and 280 pounds, Patrick felt delicate for the first time in his adult life.
“I want you to…” he rasped, voice thick with desire, face hot with the opposite of shame. “I want you to fuck me.”
Will looked him in the eye, and Patrick’s gaze fell to the floor. Will forced his chin up to return his gaze.
“Have you…?” Will asked, his meaning clear.