What are you doing?
"What are YOU doing?"
Lying in bed.
Because it's 2 in the morning.
So I'm tired.
"Hey, man, stay up late, things happen."
What are you doing calling me so late?
"Why did you answer your phone?"
"Dude I'm fucked up."
I can tell.
"My buddy had his going away party, and we smoked."
That sounds fun.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes you are."
My wife is right here, sleeping.
(whisper) I have to be quiet or I'll wake her up.
"You're a liar."
Why do you want to know?
"I'm coming over."
You shouldn't drive.
"I already am."
(Later, we were lying in bed. I had ended up sideways, with my legs across his chest, and his fingers ran up and down them with the gentlest touch. Tickle, tickle, tickle.)
"What's this scar from?"
"What'd you do?"
I tripped over a hurdle.
"Did you play many sports in school?"
I was alright.
"I played baseball all through school."
"Yeah. I was gonna play in college but I fucked up my knee."
"But I was pretty good."
"How much sex do you have?"
"How many guys do you hook up with?"
Oh. (pause) Do you want me to be nice or honest?
Nice...hardly ever. Honest...lately there's been one other guy.
No one. Just this friend of mine from LA.
"When did that happen?"
He came in town a while ago for something. We dated when I lived out there.
How about you?
How many people have you hooked up with?
"Yeah." (pause) "Yeah, since the last time with you, there's been nobody."
"Whatever, it's cool."
(His hand got firmer, as it ran further up my leg. He bent over, kissed me on my belly.) "So I got a lot of time to make up for."
Be careful, I'm an old man, I can't keep up with you.
"I know, I like it." He kissed me again. "I like that you're older than me."
(And then he sat up, reached over to the nightstand, and opened the drawer.) "But if you're gonna hang with me, you still got to keep up."