Gay

I’d wanted it all summer and never dared. That afternoon, with the pool silent and no one nearby, Adrián jumped in naked and looked at me from the middle.

We both wanted him from the very first class, but we never imagined he’d be the one to ask us to choose between forgetting him or moving into his house.

His cold hand closed around my arm like a grip. I was ninety kilos of muscle, and yet in front of him I felt small, inspected, bought.

I had the pen in my hand and a lifetime of debt on the table. All he asked in return was that I leave my pride at the door.

I had just turned twenty-two and had never been with anyone. Iván was three years younger, but one stupid bet was enough to show me who was in charge.

The metallic voice announced the next phase and, instead of panic, I felt something I shouldn’t have: a ridiculous urge for it all to start again.

The motel terrace connected to his, and from the dimness a deep voice called me “pretty.” I should have gone inside and locked the door. I didn’t.

I only wanted to watch the sun go down and photograph the sea. Then I heard another bicycle approaching through the sand, and I knew that afternoon wouldn’t end like the others.

The order was simple: kneel. My body obeyed before my mind could resist, and I knew that night would take me past a point of no return.

The rule was simple: when the elevator doors closed, I stopped being a person and became part of his furniture.

I came back from the kitchen naked, cloth in hand, and knew that night there would be nothing left of my pride on the black marble of his living room floor.

That afternoon, with the fan roaring and the house empty, my cousin looked at me differently and said he had something to prove to me. I had no idea how far he'd go.

I checked the time at half past three when I walked into that empty bathroom. I didn’t lock the door. It was the mistake —or the stroke of luck— that changed forever what I thought I knew about myself.

The arm resting across his abdomen wasn’t his girlfriend’s. It was heavy, warm, and masculine. And Bruno couldn’t remember a thing about the night before.

He sat right beside me even though the theater was nearly empty. His knee touched mine and didn't move away. Then his mouth found my ear, and I knew that afternoon belonged to him.

When I opened my eyes in the steam room, he was already looking at me. And I knew exactly who he was, even though I never thought I’d have him that close.

I left the gym with my body still burning and took the dirt track to smoke in peace. I never expected that black car to stop right behind me.

He chose the urinal next to him without thinking. When their eyes met in the mirror, he knew neither of them had gone in just to wash their hands.

Four months alone in the mountains had left him with a hunger no whisky could soothe. That night, behind the inn’s red curtain, three boys knew exactly how to take him in.

On a Friday at ten, the gym was nearly empty and a guy who was loading twice what I was on the bench beside me. One look in the mirror was enough to send everything off the rails.