Full disclosure: writing this up on a dare. I could probably give a more detailed account of both my evening and my relationship with the guy in question, but word count being no requirement in said dare, I’m just going to be sketching this thing out in fairly broad strokes. [*Okay, writing this after having completed the post—spoke too soon, lol. Started getting pretty wet by like the third or fourth paragraph or so, and was more or less trying with one hand not long after, even though I sort of have (or thought I had? still do?) mixed feelings about what happened. Anyway, I got a little carried away, so what follows is no novel but it certainly is no cliff notes version either.*]
Junior year of college, winter break. I was 22 (I took a year off) and he was 20. We became close our freshman year, but really got to know each other when we were sophomores. I helped him get over a pretty shit break-up, and he was consistently funny, respectful toward me, and just generally made me feel safe (when it felt like most other guys I’d get in a certain proximity to over a certain period of time just wanted or tried to fuck me). I helped him with a class he sucked at, he did the same for me. He stood up for me when one of his friends was being a weirdo, and we just generally had a good thing going.