This Friday night was rare in many respects. We agreed to meet at the bar to celebrate our successful working partnership and a personal achievement. After several weeks of working out and observing a strict diet, Randy had dropped about 25 pounds. He was uncharacteristically happy and you could tell his slimmed down body gave him greater confidence.
It was almost a year ago that our new employer bought out his rival, hired both of us, and placed us in charge of our departments where we collaborate on print projects. We came back together for this new corporation after working together for several years and then going our separate ways. Then and now, we are gifted with varied abilities that mesh well. Since we began working together, we both valued each other's qualities and work ethic. We worked shoulder to shoulder during long, seemingly endless nights to tap into our mutual drive to achieve excellence and, thus, earning critical acclaim for our publications and employer.
We spent so much time working, most nights both of us went straight home and stayed there. Randy was never a big drinker and I had cut back after I got married a few years ago. My wife did not approve of my college partying, nor did she really approve of Randy. They attempted to act as if they could stand each other but it was obvious that they did not. Still, my wife understood when I called her one late afternoon to tell her of my plans to stop by a watering hole for a few beverages. After all, Randy and I had not assembled for happy hour since moving to this city.
After a couple beers, the cute waitress convinced us to try the special on jumbo rum and Cokes. At work, others surround us and it is difficult to discuss anything of a personal nature. Tonight, the alcohol and noise made everyone else recede into the background, we discussed our latest accomplishments, my marriage, our past, college years, old girlfriends, and how he managed to lose so much weight.
Once again, we managed to skirt the reoccurring issue of his romantic interest in me. Throughout our friendship, Randy made several attempts to initiate physical intimacy. At conferences and in private, he regularly tried to seduce me. He was persistent and I could help but notice that used different tactics. Viewing pornography, explicit discussions of sex, exposing himself, and, once, he started unbuckling my belt before I stopped him.
I was not sure whether Randy was bi or gay. Through the years, he bedded several attractive women where we worked. Rumors about his huge cock, healthy interest in sex, many conquests, and his immediate disinterest in these women were widely circulated. I never asked him about his advances toward me. Nor did I respond with anger or disgust when he made a move on me. On the contrary, I probably gave him tacit encouragement by participating in private conversations that often featured erotic experiences and sexual preferences.
Discerning from our conversations that I have a penchant for blowjobs, he once asked if I would let another man blow me. I think I surprised him when I told him that blowjobs are so incredible that I did not think I would mind who was on the giving end. Even though I was committed to my marriage, Randy predicted that I would have an affair within two years. Based on the context of his comment, I was not sure if he meant men or women. I protested and assured him that I would not allow an affair to come between my wife and me. I am not proud of this but, on this occasion and others, I made derogatory comments about queers to unsettle him and keep him at bay.
The cute waitress interrupted our conversation. "Do you want me to bring some towels?" she asked. "The carpet is drenched under your table."
Randy profusely apologized for spilling a drink. The bar was full of patrons, noise, and smoke. The service was getting sporadic. I asked the waitress to bring us the check as I had too much to drink and needed to go home. Walking to our cars, Randy suggested that I follow his car to his apartment. He offered me another drink at his place and said there was a work-related matter that he did not want to discuss in the bar. I told him that I did not need another drink and that I should go home. Randy chided me for letting him out-drink me. It was still early and one more drink would not hurt me, so I consented.
After driving the short distance, we stumbled into Randy's apartment. We sat down on the couch and he went to the kitchen to pour us drinks of Kahlua on ice. We listened to the soundtrack of Rocky Horror Picture Show, talked about people at work, and drank some more. Now swaying when I stood, I knew I could not drive home and let Randy call my wife to tell her that I was in no shape to drive and would be spending the night. She thanked Randy for taking care of me.
Randy told me that it was time for bed. I asked him for a blanket and a pillow for his couch. He told me that I was sleeping in his bed and that it was big enough for both of us. He met my next protest by saying that if one of us was going to sleep on the couch, he would.
