I don’t really consider where I’m living just now to be “home” (KittyMama once told me, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dexxx, but you don’t really have a home”, which is true though some places I’ve spent time in feel a lot more like home than others), but I’m not sure how else to describe my return from visiting Magenta. Firstly though, some back story.
I’ve mentioned in the passing before how much time I waste on Tumblr, it being my social network and procrastination tool of choice. Towards the end of the summer I started following a guy with the initial T who is quite tumblr-famous in his niche, and talking on skype; and a couple of months later, started following his (now ex-)boyfriend, C. Though the former lives not too nearby and we’ve never met, his now ex had not long moved to the city next to this one, and so in December when I was going on a night out in that city, I invited C along. We’ve stayed in touch and hung out a lot since then, and a few weeks ago he split up with T.
I think it’s fair to say – though C, since he reads this, will no doubt correct me if I’m wrong – that even before the break up it was a bit of a foregone conclusion that he and I would end up hooking up at some point. I think I probably realised this over the Christmas holidays when I got a text off him and started smiling stupidly in that way that you smile when you get a text from someone you like (it hadn’t occurred to me at this stage really) and, as he and T were still together at the time, immediately thought oh no. Anyway. My flight back from seeing Magenta last Thursday was to his city (mine doesn’t have an airport) and wasn’t due to arrive until quite late so I’d asked him before I went whether if I missed my last train back, it would be okay to stay at his. He told me that was fine and that since he didn’t have anything on on Friday, why not just plan to stay at his that night and save myself the stress of running for a train I would have in all likelihood missed anyway? Cast-iron logic, there, so I agreed and on Thursday night he met me at the train station and we went back to his.
It must have been around midnight by the time we got there, but I was still too wired from flying to be anywhere near sleepy and probably also jumped up on the excitement of the week away. It might sound weird, but right up until it happened, I really wasn’t sure whether it was going to or not. “Maybe I’ve totally misread this situation,” I thought, “maybe this really is just a platonic thing” but then he kissed me and those thoughts went out the window. We didn’t have sex that night, though. We kissed, we cuddled, we spooned all night, but didn’t have sex. And in the morning, he made me pancakes, earning him the title of Adorable Bastard.
He had been planning to come to my city for an event on the Friday night but it turns out he had the wrong month (yes really), so I ended up staying on Friday night too – we watched the 1989 Batman film, which I’d never seen but actually really enjoyed, and drank wine, and went to his students’ union for a bit
That night while tipsy he asked if I wanted to spend Saturday night there as well, and I tentatively accepted, but the next day checked whether the offer still was valid in the cold and sober light of day. Luckily it was, and we spent most of the morning in bed before going to the city centre to a café that we pretty much always go to whenever I’m in town; had some cake and coffee, I briefly met Tigger who was in town with some other friends; and went back to his for some more fooling around in bed. Until this point in the weekend we’d limited ourselves to hands and faces, but that night we had penetrative sex for the first time. He’s an exclusive top (in terms of who’s putting what into whom, but a switch in terms of dominance/submission which made for some quite interesting dynamics I’d never explored the following weekend, which is another story for another day) and as you probably know by now my experiences of bottiming are mixed at best but luckily he was one of the ones with whom it just worked, straight away. Maybe because I was very relaxed around him already, I dunno. He takes a really long time to cum, but with it being a weekend and having nothing urgent to do, it was nice to take the time and have a longer, more intimate session rather than the usual rushed experience with people from hookup sites or Grindr.
We saw each other this weekend too – again, another story for another blog – and again, it was cute, and lovely. We’ve had a sort of “what is this, what are we” type conversation already and the conclusion was, “no proverbial white picket fence, but when time is free come on round… together when we’re together” and that sleeping with other people is fine, as long as we’re both open about it and know what we need to know to keep ourselves safe (which, though this wasn’t mentioned was at least implied, includes protection from emotional damage as well as from STIs). So there we go, let’s see where this one takes us!