The first time I met him was over Tetris Battle on Facebook.

It had been a random matchup, but according to the pre-game information, but apparently he lived in my city; and after I'd kicked his ass like I always kicked people's asses at Tetris Battle (I was a rank 35, but I don't like to brag), he'd sent me a message over Facebook.

Phillip Meyerson
Hey, good game. I thought you were pretty cute in your profile picture. Want to hang out and meet up sometime?

You'd think that this was one of those times where most people would go, "NO, OBVIOUSLY THIS PERSON IS A CREEPY FIFTY YEAR OLD STALKER WHO WANTS TO RAPE LITTLE GIRLS." But after snooping around on Phillip Meyerson's Facebook profile and realizing that he actually went to the same university as me, and that his pictures clearly showed him being in said university )and I have this weird tendency to trust people online), I wasn't very suspicious at all.

I was also pretty excited, because I'm one of those socially retarded kids. Well, not socially retarded, really-socially impossible. It wasn't like I was bad with communicating, I was just bad with people. In general. I don't think they ever understand me.

But that's why I don't judge people based on their appearances a lot, and even if they send me creepy messages over Facebook. I'm still excited to meet anyone I can.

And I don't know why Phillip Meyerson thought I was cute or special or anything like that, but I wasn't hesitant and replied after the ten minutes of snooping around I did.

Lucas Doyer

Phillip Meyerson
Where do you want to meet up?

Lucas Doyer
Anywhere's fine, really.

Phillip Meyerson
Do you know that Chick-Fil-A on fifty-fourth street?

I did know that Chick-Fil-A on fifty-fourth street-it was ages from my apartment. But I cared more about meeting up with this Phillip Meyerson guy than caring about how far I had to walk (or take a taxi, or take a bus. Whatever's convenient for me on that day) so it was hardly an issue for me.

Lucas Doyer
Yeah, that'll be good.

Phillip Meyerson
Great :) Meet me there at three pm on Saturday?

Lucas Doyer

I'd originally ended my "Okay" with an exclamation point, but after looking at it for a moment, thought better of it. Exclamation points should be spared in the English language. At least, online.

It would be a lie to say that I didn't look forward to three pm on Saturday at all. It would be an understatement to say that I did look forward to it. I was jittery all day, and decided to leave my house at noon without eating lunch or breakfast, arrived at the restaurant at two o'clock, and literally sat there and waited for an hour.

By the time a guy came down to sit across from me in the restaurant, I was starving.

"Hi," he said to me, and I was confused at first before I realized who this was.

"Oh!" I said. "You're Phillip Meyerson!" And I smiled.

"Yeah," he said, smiling back. "I am. Want to order something to eat?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm starving, actually. I got here about an hour ago since I'd been looking forward to this all week, and I haven't eaten anything today. Do you know what's good here?"

Phillip looked surprised at everything I'd said. "You got here an hour ago? And you didn't eat anything at all today? Geez." He got up from the table. "Let me treat you. What do you want?"

"No, it's okay-" I started.

But he cut me off. "Seriously, man," he said to me. "What do you want?"


For once in my life, I was caught off-guard. After he stared at me for a moment, I just asked, "Do you know what's good here?"

"Pretty much everything is good. Chick-Fil-A's probably one of the best restaurants to have ever existed."

"I've never been to one before," I admitted. "I usually don't go out to eat a lot. I like to make food myself, or eat leftovers that my mom mails to me."

Phillip laughed. "That's cute," he said to me. "Well, I'll order for you then, is that okay?"

I nodded, and he left. I watched him from afar, as he talked to the cash register lady to order our food. I wished that I was as good with people as he was.

"I wished I was as good with people as you are," I said when he came back. "How are you so good at talking to people? Usually when I talk to strangers, they just look at me weird and treat me awkwardly."

"I'm not looking at you weird or treating you awkwardly," said Phillip, clearly amused.

"Well I said usually, didn't I?" I looked at the tray he had brought over. "What's this?" I asked.

"This is yours and this is mine." He pointed to each individual basket. "Though they're identical so I don't really think it matters which you take."

"What'd you order?"

"Oh, a normal chicken burger," he answered. "I like my food plain."

I took one of the baskets and started unwrapping my own burger. "I like my food plain too," I said. "Plain food is usually better than if something's too salty or too sweet or whatever. Like, if food's plain, you can just add stuff to it if you want it to be less tasty, but if you think something's too tasty, you can't do anything about it because it's already there. Well, you could always add more of the plain stuff but then you'll just get fat. I once heard a saying that people who like the same foods make-"

I broke off suddenly. I never break off when I talk.

Phillip looked startled that I'd stopped. "What?" he said.

"Oh, nothing." What I was about to say was that people who like the same foods make a good couple. But Phillip and I weren't a good couple.

"Sorry," I said, instead. "I talk too much. People in school have always told me that, since I was in elementary school. Can you believe that I've barely changed even though now that I'm in grad school? You go to my school, right?" Just to be sure.

"Yeah," said Phillip, nodding. "When I saw your profile picture on Facebook, I thought your background looked vaguely familiar and realized that we both live around here. Kinda freaky, isn't it?" He laughed.

"You have a nice laugh," I observed. "And yeah, that is freaky. But anyways, sorry if I'm annoying you or bothering you because I'm talking too much, or something."

"It's okay," said Phillip. "I think it's cute."

We finished our meal pretty quickly, though I'm not sure if you'd expect more out of two twenty-something year old males. Speaking of our ages, as we left the restaurant together, I asked Phillip, "How old are you?"

"Old enough," he joked.

"That hardly says anything."

"I'm twenty-four."

"Hey, I'm twenty-five!" I said, feeling affronted. "If you think you're old enough, then what am I?"

"Older than enough."

But I could tell that he was teasing, by the way he was smiling and I smiled back. "Yeah," I said. "I don't think age means much, really, since it's just a number and I could be thirty and still act the same, you know? I mean, as long as I get more experiences that'll change me, but I think there are plenty of old people who haven't had much experience, so their age shouldn't really mean a lot-"

I suddenly realized how much I was rambling and then blushed. Which is strange, because I never blushed at things I say.

"I agree." Phillip looked amused again. "But you do have a point. So, what do you want to do now?"

I recovered from my temporary lapse. "Oh, I don't know," I said. "You're the one who invited me out, what do you want to do?"

"Play Tetris Battle?" I could tell that he was teasing by the grin on his face.

"I only play Tetris Battle when I'm bored or when I'm at school," I said, and then looked up in thought. "Which is a lot, actually."

"Yeah, you're rank thirty-five," said Phillip, seemingly impressed.

"Rank thirty-seven." I'd played some more this morning. "But you were rank thirty-five, too."

"Only because over the summer I'd had nothing to do and played Tetris Battle morning, day and night," he said. "I usually have a life. More than you, anyways."

"Hey, I totally have a life!" I said. "I actually work sometimes, and I don't have many classes so I have a lot of time to go on the computer, but I do other things too like read and watch TV-"

"I was only kidding." But Phillip, unlike when people usually told me when they were kidding, didn't seem bothered at all in the fact that I didn't get his joke. "It's okay, Lucas," he said. "I'm sure you have a life."

"Good," I said, and then glanced around, where we were in the middle of the street. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Let's go to that place," said Phillip, nodding to an unfamiliar building on the other side of the street, and he started walking over there and I followed him.

"What is this?" I asked him when we entered. I heard loud bangs and shouts in rooms beyond the main entrance, but I couldn't see anything. It sort of reminded me of a gym, but less worky-outy and more sporty.

"Athletic center," he answered, confirming my interests. "It's a good place for people to practice their skill in a particular sport, rather than trying to get muscles or something."

"Um," I said, inching a bit closer to him as about five or six sweaty buff guys walked past us to go outside. "Not to be rude or anything, but I actually hate sports. Mostly because I'm not athletic."

"You don't have to be athletic to do this," Phillip laughed. "And you'll like it as soon as you try it. Come on, it's not that bad." He started walking away from me, but pulled on my wrist so I couldn't go away.

"But-" I started, but once again today and for the second time in my life, I wasn't able to finish what I said because somehow, feeling Phillip's skin on mine just shut me up.

He dragged me to a batting cage, which sucked because baseball is my least favorite sport. My least. What was even worse was that after he'd done about ten impressive shots, he called me into the cage and said, "Lucas, you should try this!"

"I, uh," I said. "I'd rather not, actually." I cowered behind the fence, though I couldn't help admiring when he whacked a ball without looking at it because he was too busy looking at me.

"Oh, stop it," he said, pressing a button and putting his baseball bat down. "Don't be a wuss."

"I am a wuss!"

"Then don't be one." He came out of the cage and then dragged me in. I tried my best to protest, but he was bigger and stronger than me (due to that I was, indeed, not athletic at all.) And then he locked me in the batting cage.

"Push the button," he instructed me, pointing to the button he'd pressed earlier.

I folded my arms and pouted. "I will not," I said. "I refuse to do this."

"Just once," he said. "Come on, please? I'd asked you to come out with me, and we're supposed to have fun together right?" And then hepouted. "And I'm not having much fun right now," he said in a very whiny voice.

I sighed, but complied. "Fine," I said, and then walked over to the button.

"You should probably pick up the baseball bat first," he said to me just as my thumb pressed the button down.

Obviously, it was a bit too late for him to say that. The first ball flew from across the cage and hit me in the forehead.

"Ow!" I said, wincing and clutching my head. "What was that?"

"I didn't realize you were so short," said Phillip, his eyes wide behind the fence. "Hurry, pick up the bat!"

"I'm picking it up, I'm picking it up!" I dove for the bat and sprang back up, but as I did, another baseball hit me in the face. "Ow!"

"Shit, Lucas-" said Phillip, and then rattled the door. "Shit-try to hit the balls back!"

"I'm trying!" I said but my puny arms swinging the baseball bat did absolutely nothing and a third ball lobbed me in the cheek. "Ow! That really hurts!"

"It probably does," Phillip muttered, working to open the fence though I didn't think he could do it considering it had automatically locked. "Do you think you could open this? Or go turn the button off?"

"I'll go turn it off," I said, turning to the other side of the batting cage again; but before I could move a muscle, one more ball hit me and then I blacked out.

"Fuck," I heard a voice say, and I opened my eyes blearily to see Phillip's face hovering over me. "Fuck, Lucas," he said again. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" I said drowsily, lifting my head up. "Mmm, yeah, I'm fine…"

It was strange, because suddenly it felt warm. But not a bad kind of warm. Like a blanket was encasing me or something, except the blanket felt like arms. I wasn't sure what was happening.

"Are you sure?" he said worriedly.


I was drifting away again; I couldn't help it. This blanket or whatever it was felt so tempting that I wanted to close my eyes again and fall asleep on it. "Mmm," was the last thing I remembered saying before the world went dark again, though felt much better.


Where am I?

Why is it all dark?

And why did it feel like I was lying on a bed? What's going on? I couldn't remember much of what had happened before I ended up like this, anyways. I tried to remember. But it was like one of those times where the more you try to remember, the more you forget. Or, you don't forget. It's just harder for you to recall anything.

But I was definitely in a bed, except I was no idea why.

I felt around for my pillow, but instead felt... nothing. Which was odd, because my pillow was usually on my right side because I slept on the left side of my bed. I never sleep on the right side of my bed. It's sort of an OCD thing of mine.

But now, apparently I was sleeping on the right side of my bed.

What was even more bizarre was that I wasn't even sure if it was my bed. When I finally found a second pillow (I like to sleep while holding pillows), it was clearly made out of polyester. Not cotton. I never have cotton pillows. I'm sort of racist against cotton, but I don't know if cotton counts as a race.

The strangest thing, though, was when I heard a door open even though I live alone in my tiny apartment, and then a guy's voice said softly, "Lucas? Are you awake yet?"

"Dummy, if someone wasn't awake, they wouldn't answer," I mumbled, and tried to remember why that voice was so familiar. And then I remembered. It was the voice of Phillip Meyerson.

Phillip Meyerson, who I had hung out with at Chick-Fil-A and some sports arena.

Then suddenly everything came back to me and I popped my eyes open, to see Phillip Meyerson standing at the foot of my bed-no, it was clear that the bed was his-with a glass of water in his hands, and smiling feebly at me.

"Wait," I said. "What the just-"

"You got knocked out," Phillip explained to me. "By the baseballs." Oh, right, that's what had happened. "And then I turned off the thing and you woke up, but then you actually fell asleep and I didn't know what to do, so I brought you to my apartment because I didn't know where you lived. I'm sorry." And he looked really sorry, too.

I glanced out the window next to his bed, and saw the sun setting in the distance. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Oh, about seven," he said. "You slept for a really long time. Sorry," he said again. "Want some water?"

I nodded and he handed the glass to me. After I took a sip, I said, "So I was asleep longer than we had talked with each other?"

"Apparently." Phillip looked embarrassed and like he was about to say sorry to me again, but before he could I said, "It's all right, I'm fine with that. And I think I should be the one to say sorry, since I was the one who fell asleep on you."

"It's nice to know that you like to get hit in the head repeatedly with baseballs and then end up falling asleep due to fatigue or something," said Phillip dryly. "I'll be sure to remember that the next time we hang out."

We sat there for a bit, him sitting on the covers while I rested in his bed. Then he said to me, somewhat carefully, "You know, Lucas... I really do think you're cute."

"Yeah." I nodded. I couldn't disagree with this, because he had said such a thing quite a few times today. And he'd said it in the Facebook message. So I wasn't too surprised at his statement.

"Like, really cute," he said. Was he closer to me now? I couldn't really tell. I just nodded again, and watched as he stared at me.

Except he wasn't just staring at my eyes. He was staring at my mouth too, and as soon as I'd realized that, my mouth became very dry and warm. But before I could take another sip of my water, or clear my throat, or anything, he'd scooted forward just a little bit more and his lips were on mine.

It was weird because I'd never thought of kissing anyone before. I think it might've been my first kiss. With a guy. I do remember this one time in high school a girl had been dared to kiss me and she hadn't wanted to but she did, so it wasn't my first kiss. But this kiss was much better than the one that the girl in high school had given me, because Phillip seemed willing and everything and it was pretty nice, so I closed my eyes like he did and kissed back, and he took my chin in his hand, which confused me. But I didn't say anything about it.

Our lips stayed together like that and after a while I wondered what was so great about kissing. Why couples did it so much. I mean, what's the big deal if two mouths are against each other? What's so special about that? It wasn't particularly fun, or interesting, or nice or anything. It was like brushing up against someone, or holding hands, or accidentally bumping into them.

But then his mouth opened and the kiss got more interesting.

Something slimy slipped out of his mouth-his tongue-and if I'd heard it, I would have thought it disgusting except when I was feeling it, itwasn't. It felt awesome, and I realized that if couples kissed like this, then okay, I understand it. I think it had something to do with his wet tongue entering my wet mouth, running over my teeth and then stroking my gums and the roof of my mouth, and I broke back suddenly, giggling.

"That tickles," I gasped, and realized I hadn't breathed for quite a while. Had I been subconsciously breathing through my nose the whole time?

Phillip's eyes grew dark (I didn't know they could do that!) and he growled-yes, growled, "You are so cute," and then just pounced on me! Just like that!

But his pouncing was to kiss me more, and harder, and felt different than the one before. Not by much, because Phillip was still kissing me quite fiercely, but now it seemed like his whole body was into it, not just his mouth. His shoulders rubbed against my own and his hands had gone from my chin to both sides of my body, and he was leaning on me and his arm bumped into mine-

The glass of water in my right hand, which I'd completely forgotten about, suddenly dropped and spilled onto his sheets. "Sorry," I tried to say against his teeth, which clacked against my own.

"It's okay," said Phillip distractedly, leaning in to kiss me again.

His hands were moving farther downward now, and his lips had soon left my own but had made their way to my neck. I didn't know why until I felt him kiss my neck, and then nearly cried out. I didn't know my skin was so sensitive there. He continued to kiss, and I think he actually bitme, like a freaking vampire!-but it was okay because it felt really good.

And then something happened. I felt a tingling between my legs-slow and sudden, which is an oxymoron but true-and then my penis ascended up and grew stiff, which it never did unless it was one of those nights when it was too late and I couldn't go to sleep and had to do something to distract myself.

And it was weird because it never happened around other people before. I mean, my penis only did that when I was alone. I got really embarrassed, and when Phillip pulled away from my neck to do-well, I don't know what he was about to do-and looked me in the face, I was sure that he saw that my cheeks had turned red.

"What?" he said to me.

"My, um..."

I pointed downwards, to my pants, and was astonished and even more embarrassed to see that my penis had actually created a bump in my pants! Feeling my face heat up with mortification, I said, "S-Sorry, I just-I didn't know what came over me-I can't control myself-"

Then the weirdest of weird happened, and Phillip just chuckled and said, "Dammit, why are you so cute," and pecked me on the lips before reaching to pull down my pants.

"Don't!" I said, but he ignored me and slid my pants down my thighs. My penis had created a same-sized bulge in my boxer-briefs, and Phillip pulled those down too. I wasn't sure what he was going to do-did he want to take it off and inspect it, or something?-but what I certainly hadn't suspected that he put it in his mouth.

He put my penis in his mouth.

And then I thought it was a completely gross thing to do before I got lost in the ecstasy of how amazing it felt. Because it really did feel amazing. Like, incredibly amazing. So amazing. Better than when I eat my grandma's homemade macadamia nut cookies, which is my favorite food. And this was even better. Having my penis in Phillip's mouth. Which still sounds gross, but trust me, if you have a penis, you should put it in someone's mouth sometime.

"Ahh," I said, and then felt embarrassed at the sound. But I couldn't help it, and the next time I opened my mouth again, which was completely unprecedented, I moaned and tried to push myself further down. Phillip's mouth was only at the head, but I wanted more. Then I felt his tongue against the side, and then at the tip, and then he let go of me with a pop! and started making his way to the base, so I decided not to want any more and just let him do what he did.

His hands made their way up to my stomach as he continued licking me, and then sucked-oh God, sucking was way better than licking-and his warm hands grasped around my waist as his mouth continued to do its work. I couldn't say much other than, "Ah," and, "Oh," and, "Unh," (which I'm pretty sure isn't a word), and then I suddenly felt a great sense of relief and made my loudest moan ever and jolted into Phillip's mouth.

He managed to hold all of my semen in his mouth-all of it-and considering that it was semen, I thought that was pretty gross too. I mean, why would you want to have someone's semen in your mouth? But seeing some of it drip off the side of Phillip's face looked pretty attractive, and I took my finger and wiped the corner of his mouth and said, "You've got some here."

He nodded, then swallowed and gulped, which I cringed at. "How's that going to get through your digestive system?" I asked. "Is that nutritious?"

Phillip chuckled. "I don't know," he said, "but it sure is delicious."

I considered the bit that I'd wiped off of him on my finger. "Is it?" I licked my finger. It tasted a bit salty. And bitter. "I'm not quite sure if I'd say it's delicious," I said. "Are your taste buds intact?"

He laughed, and said, "Seriously, why do you always say and do such adorable things? And sexy things." He licked my finger as well. As he leaned over me, I could see a faint bulge between his own legs, similar to the one that had been between mine.

"Do you want me to put your penis in my mouth too?" I asked him, pointing to his pants. "I mean, not that I want to, but since you'd done it for me I feel like I should return the favor." I squirmed a bit. The sound of putting someone's penis in my mouth certainly wasn't too attractive to me, though I guess for Phillip it'd feel as good as it had for mine.

Phillip shook his head though, and said, "Nah, it's okay. I won't make you go through that, yet, I don't think you're ready for it."

"But it's fine!" I insisted; that he had declined my offer made me feel even more guilty.

"No, don't worry about it," he said.

"Can I touch it then?" I asked. "That's what I usually do with mine, even though I like it when you lick mine more." And then I felt myself get a bit red again.

Phillip laughed again and kissed me. "It should be illegal, how cute you are," he said. "Okay, you can touch it."

I moved my hand down and carefully wrapped my finger around the denim of his jeans. He was very warm and hard here, just like mine had been, except warmer and harder. I heard Phillip whimper a little behind me, and glanced at him to ask, "Am I doing this right?"

"You're doing fine," he breathed, against my ear. Assured by this, I gripped him a little bit harder, and steadily I could hear his breathing get a little bit more staggered. Suddenly wanting to feel his skin and not just his pants, I unbuttoned and unzippered them and slipped my hand in, brushing against a few hairs to feel the length of his penis.

"Ahh... Lucas," Phillip moaned, and I felt teeth against my earlobe. I made a little sound, but he just said, "Don't stop," so continued on, aware of how hot he was against me.

I touched his penis like I usually touched mine-not too softly, since I guess if you want to ejaculate, you'd want to do it as soon as you could. My fingers rubbed him quickly and roughly, and soon he was saying my name over and over again, like it was some sort of mantra, like I'd died and he was trying to bring me back to life, and then I felt a warm liquid spurt all over my hands, from the tip of his penis.

"Ah," said Phillip when I was done as I brought my hand out. "Shit. Sorry."

"It's okay," I said, observing his semen on my hand carefully. "You said that mine was delicious, right? I want to know what yours tastes like." I licked it off my fingers and palms slowly. It had a different aftertaste than mine, though it certainly wasn't unpleasant.

"So? What do you think?" asked Phillip.

I shrugged. "Better than mine."

"Oh, I don't think that's true," he said, and then tackled me to the bed and hugged me. It was weird, because I didn't know why he was hugging me, but it felt nice so I hugged him back. His legs brushed against my exposed thighs, but I ignored that.

"You know, I usually don't believe in sex on the first date," he said, his profile against my chest. "But this time, I think I do."

"Wait," I said, pushing him off. "This was a date?"

He looked amused.

"Yeah," he said. "What did you think it was? Of course it's a date."

"But... But I thought..." And this was the first time in my life I was at a loss for words too. "But I thought we were just hanging out! Like, guys!"

"Guys can go on dates, too." Phillip continued to look amused.

"And you never implied anything romantic with me!"

"Yeah, I did," he said. "In my Facebook message, I said that you were cute."

Oh. He did. I couldn't deny that there was something a little bit romantic about that.

"What," he said, "do you not want to be on this date with me?"

"No, it's not that! This was very nice! I've just never thought that I was homosexual before!" As soon as I said that, my eyes widened. "Wait, I'm a homosexual?"

"Since 'homo' means same gender and 'sexual' means, well, sexual, and you just did sexual things with me, who is the same gender as you, then I would say yes, to some extent you are a homosexual."

"Oh." I fell into a little thoughtful silence. "Well, I never considered that before, but that's a nice thing to know about myself. Now I can say to people, 'I'm Lucas Doyer and I'm a homosexual.'"

"A cute homosexual. Seriously." Phillip scooted up and kissed the corner of my mouth. "How do you even exist?"

"I'm not quite sure how to answer that."

"You don't have to," said Phillip with a grin, and then took my hand and put it with his, which fit perfectly in mine.