He had about 4 years on me, and in sexual experience they were dog years. Moments multiplied by infinity and understanding innate beyond empirically gained knowledge. During the first few months, when I was trying to resist us, and whatever we would become, in my innocence trying resist the draw and all the inevitable mess it would entail, we would go to parties together as friends…as two individuals just out for the evening. Or we’d “run into eachother” .Ofcourse. Usually, we’d end up talking most of the night in a corner…as if we had discovered a common interest or pursuit in a stranger or long lost friend. But before that would happen he would do this thing. This infuriating thing. He’d walk up, and reached down over my shoulder from behind and hand me a beer. Then, quickly and subtly use his other hand to brush my hip bone with one finger, or the small of my back with his hand.
Sounds crude doesn’t it? It wasn’t. I don’t think most people ever even caught the gesture. Some times he’d even do it while chatting with others. And this gestures, as I watched him working a room, charming whomever he might would have me scoping out dark corners and spare rooms. Picturing stolen kisses and impatient gropings. Have me hoping to catch his eye across the room. Have me sighing with relief when we exchanged that knowing smile.
As an adult it sounds kind of presumptuous, and certainly inappropriate. A silly game of new lovers. But at that time that gestures was every bit of romance. A symbol for the mounting anticipation that can only exist when you not only know you want someone, but that you are one step away from completely having them.