#hookupstories

[beatsboy]

4.12

there are some things you don't know. i don't know if you've seen my spotify playlists about you. i don't know if you can feel the tension hanging between us as something much more than merely platonic or sexual. but i'm pretty sure you think i'm just a person who is your friend again, who you maybe had feelings for in the past, who only wanted to fuck. i know how it looks, and to be honest, if i explained it, i don't know that it would look any better in the full light, but i need to get it out, and i need to be honest with fucking someone in my life, even if it's my computer.

i fell in love with you the instant i met you. i didn't even have the money to take you out to brunch the next day, but i wanted to, so i did. i don't remember a lot from that night. we were pretty fucked up. but i do remember some things. i remember asking if i could put your dick inside of me (sorry lol). they'd done it in the trans porn i'd watched, so i thought it was okay. i was also borderline blackout drunk. my judgement wasn't its best. but i wanted you. i wanted every part of you i could fit in my hands, in my arms. to put it nicely, i was obsessed.

when i met you, though, i had just gotten out of three relationships, in a way. of course, there was JB, who i had just finally freed myself from after 5 long years of being hung up on a quite average white, cis, bicurious man. waiting for him to want to be with me for real again. we'd fucked around for a long time, pre and post breakup with my lookalike. i had spent so long wanting him and getting barely anything in return, and savoring every part of it. i had also just been ghosted by my two best friends of 5 years. and i still didn't fully understand what went wrong with addy and avery, but i knew i would make sure things were different with you, because i didn't want to fuck this up.

so i followed every rule, i kept myself at a safe distance. when you left me to be with someone else--a date, a lover, a partner, a flirt--i didn't complain, and i surely didn't show if i was jealous. right after we met, i went on a roadtrip with camilla. we spent hours alone in the car together, just the two of us. and i couldn't stop talking about you. you're the only one who really knows how much i've changed since i met you. you met me right at the start. i didn't know anyone who was doing this shit before i met you. i had just spent the last year or so withdrawing further into myself, denying and figuring things out at the same time. i became addicted to drugs, got fucked up every night in my room, spent all my time on tiktok. i looked the part in some ways at that point, but you were still the coolest person i had met in my life. and i was so content being your friend, being friends with a musician, with another person living in la, but a person who was doing things i actually liked.

i never wanted to move to la, not the la that avery showed me. when i visited her, we went to the grove, to bars like the den, got drunk in weho, wondering why i felt the innate need to run away. i never felt that way with you. but being here with you made me want to make this place my home. i'm getting off topic.

i'm writing this letter as a record of how i felt, in case i ever try to convince myself it happened differently in my head again.

this first part is to say that i wanted you so badly, i wanted you to be my girlfriend the minute i met you, but i didn't want to ask for too much. you were in a relationship. it was not poly at the time. you were open, though, so i took what i could get. i took late-night hookups after we went out. we used to do that all the time. and i was always afraid if i said something, it would break the spell and it would be over. the thing you don't know is how many poems, journal entries, and songs i wrote about how much it killed me to be the one you hooked up with here while you got to be in love with someone else thousands of miles away. if you were poly then, i might have told you how i felt. you had nic, though, and i knew that from the beginning. so i never let myself take it any further, not outside of my own head, anyway.

and then, you became poly. but at that point, i had met troy. i met a sweet, cute boy who kind of looked like a girl. and he was obsessed with me back. it felt so good to be with someone who wanted me so unashamedly, so limitlessly. i didn't have to compete with anyone else, i knew i was the best thing he'd ever had and probably ever would have. but i knew you didn't like it, not at first. or maybe that was in my head too. but i remember going to sour prom with you, jace, and troy (our second date) and i remember feeling your jealousy. i told myself that you were just jealous as a friend is when someone else steps in and takes their attention. but that was the first time i  wondered if maybe you'd had feelings for me too. but it was too late. i knew you were upset when we had the wedding. i remember talking to jace about it and him asking if i thought you were jealous. but you had addy, and you seemed happy about it eventually, and i had found someone who could be with me all the time.

have you ever wondered why troy and i became open and i never fucked anyone besides you? i missed you. i missed your body, kissing you--i missed the space between platonic and romantic. i missed the delusion i used to play in my head that maybe, way down the line, we would be together. i used to think that maybe if you and nic broke up, that we would be together. but by the time that happened, you already had two other partners. so, yeah, we only opened up our relationship so i could fuck you. and had a brief period of discussing the possibility of poly, because i wanted to be with you. and i thought maybe, i guess, if we were poly, that i could have both. i could finally have what i'd wanted since the moment i met you--you, and i could have troy to fill the spaces in between when i didn't have you. but that's not what happened.

this brings us closer to the end. you came over one night during this time, and i needed you. i needed support. i was going through it. but, as we know, this lasted a long time. and you were talking about dating apps and joann, and you got too high, and you weren't there for me. and i thought to myself, i need more from a partner. i wanted you, but i needed more. and i knew that. so i texted troy that night that i didn't want to try being poly. and i said a lot of reasons why. i said i just want to be with one person or whatever to you, but in reality, it was because i didn't think i could be in a relationship with you, and i didn't want to be poly to be with anyone else.

and why did i stay with him? why did i choose troy over taking the morsels you gave me? because he was there, because i couldn't have you.

to be continued.

[jae-080]

"It's so hard to find someone who just wants to be friends," he said to me. This is perfect. He looked at me with this sweet, sly smile, getting ready to break some unspoken rule. We're both moving in and our lips press together. I can feel him smiling still on my mouth. He tastes like smoke and gummy bears. Then we both pull back and laugh to ourselves because of how good it is.

He reclined back onto me and I pressed my face into his nape. I felt this point of contact and attention moving up from our feet through our legs and hips and chest. We both tuned into the subtle detail of this sensation and I'm impressed with myself, with us for discovering this technique.

Moving downstairs, a bright red vinyl is pulled from it's sleeve. It's something similar to mac miller and the crackle on this modem music warms me. Our mouths keep drying up from the hits from his bubbler. We go between drinking sips of ice water and dancing with our tongues. I unbutton his shirt. He's beautiful, soft and thin, with brown hair that falls over his face. His scent is clean and pale blue like the early evening. He pleasured me, and I him, and our breathing syncs up. We're laying down side by side and we're kissing and breathing loud into each other's faces, faster and faster, in time with each other, until finally we're drenched.

He spoke of how attractive he found me as if he were privileged to see me. I suppose he is, I suppose we both got lucky to meet in this way. But damn, I could go for some more of that and I know he could too.

[homo-phobic-homo]

Hook-up Rule #1

EVERYONE INVOLVED SHOULD CUM. Unless, for whatever reason, any person involved is not interested in getting off, themselves, every. single. person. should. get off. It’s a sign of shitty manners if you expect to meet up with someone, get off, and then leave them with blue balls. This has happened to me. More than once. The fuck is wrong with these guys who see that I’ve been hard the entire time we’ve been messing around, and they still just put on their clothes and leave when they’re done?!? Like, I just worked my ass off (sometimes literally) to get you off, and you leave me to jerk my own self off? Why the fuck would I invite you over just to have to end up masturbating once you’re gone? I’m so done with all these fuckboys who don’t know what good sex is. Done.

[homo-phobic-homo]

Fooled me.

Met up with a guy the other day. We’d been chatting on Grindr for weeks. We both agreed we were looking for a friends-with-benefits deal, and we actually had normal, friendly chats about our days and everything. We were just waiting for an opportune time to meet, as both of us live with roommates. So, he finally comes over one evening when I have my house to myself. We started making out (he was a great kisser). We actually made out for a while... Clothes came off. I sucked him a little bit. He sucked me. I was having a great time. Finally, I make him cum. It was hot. Then, things got a little awkward. I hadn’t cum yet, and I’m sitting there with my boner still raging, and he just starts casually chatting about work and stuff. I’m waiting for him to shut up and help me finish... And he starts putting his clothes on. So I’m thinking, well that’s kinda rude of him. But I don’t say anything. So, he gets dressed, I walk him to the door, and he leaves. I got dressed after he left, and when I picked up my phone, I hadn’t logged out of Grindr. I tap over to my messages, and guess who’s chat history was gone? The dude had fucking blocked me as. soon. as. he. left. my. house!  Now, I’m not saying I’m a porn-star in bed or anything. But, he seemed to be having a preeeetty good time. And hell, I didn’t even bitch at him when he left me with blue balls. And HE had the nerve to block ME afterwards, with no warning whatsoever. This is why I hate men. They’re bigger pussies than the ladies.