The night (and opportunity) slip away

Oliver nestled his head onto Simon’s shoulder, a haze of rum and exhaustion washing over him. He wrapped his arms tighter around Simon body, enjoying the supple strength of a dancer’s frame. Their breathing slowed, falling and rising in synchronized rhythm. Oliver breathed in Simon’s scent, some cologne Oliver knew he’d never be able to pronounce. Despite the sleepiness overtaking him, Oliver laid awake as long as he could. He knew Simon could have teased him, rubbed his ass into Oliver’s crotch to get a rise out of him. A quiet part of Oliver almost wished that Simon had. Oliver had never considered himself attracted to men, but couldn’t help but feel something was missing in his life. He was still attracted to women- found them desirable and beautiful, of that there was not doubt. But as he drifted to sleep Oliver was consumed with the nagging thought that there was something building inside of his soul, burning to be set free.

The men awoke in a haze, forgetting where they were as they heard the stomps of Carlos, the barback slash everyman of the bar beginning to open the place up above them. Rising quickly the pair sprinted up the stairs to pound on the door as they shouted “CARLOS OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!”