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She takes him for a lap dance and gets hot.
But then, without consciously deciding to do it, I grabbed Simon by the back of the head and pressed his lips to mine.
It was different from kissing a girl (and I had kissed one moments ago, so I had a frame of reference). Simon's lips were drier and harder, and he pressed more forcefully against me. It felt a little jarring for our chests to be so close together, no soft breasts in between, but it wasn't unpleasant.
The kiss hung in the summer air like a swarm of cicadas. Neither of us wanted to move, our bodies locked as firmly as our lips. But eventually Simon pulled away. He looked at me appraisingly. "Okay. Come inside."
I realized that we were holding hands. Simon lead me through the kitchen and up the staircase to his bedroom. Along the way I heard a chorus of giggles -- Padma, and maybe Dawn too, doubtlessly making light of our dalliance. I didn't really care.
We stepped into Simon's room, and he immediately shut the door. I had never been in here before. The walls were egg-shell white and covered with black-and-white posters of various bands, mainly alternative groups from the 80s. I recognized The Smiths, Joy Division, Devo, and Wire, and a couple others looked familiar. A queen-sized bed sat on the far side of the room. Simon let go of my hand and almost immediately flopped down on the bed. He rolled over and patted the space next to him.
"Let's lie down," he said. "We can just talk for now." It sounded reasonable, so I joined him in bed.
"I never knew you liked all this stuff," I said, motioning to the posters.
"When I was a teenager, I wanted to grow up to be Morissey," said Simon. "Still do, if we're being honest."
I laughed. "Was it hard for you? Growing up, being... well, you know..."
"Was it hard for you?" he said.
I bit my lip. "Okay, good point. But you seem so much more, you know... sure."
"I figured out that I was bi when I was fifteen," said Simon. "I didn't tell anyone for four years, not until I was in college and far away from my hometown. Well, I guess the guy I drunkenly slept with during frosh week knew I was bi, but I never *told* him per se. I tried to suppress it, only date girls. I figured that if I was still attracted to women I could just ignore the fact that I was into guys too. But after a while that just started seeming ridiculous. So I started coming out to people. And some of them were dicks about it, but most of them accepted it. Hell, I think most people kinda knew already. And you know what? After I did it, I felt so much... I dunno, lighter. The proverbial weight was off my chest."
"Well, you're braver than I am," I said.
Simon shrugged. "Bravery is overrated. You just have to do what makes you feel comfortable."
"Now you're sounding like Dawn."
"What can I say? She's rubbed off on me. In more ways than one."
The two of us lay there for a while, staring at the bedroom ceiling. Our bodies were in comfortable contact with each other, arms interlinked, but neither of us seemed to know what to do next.
Simon spoke again. "I don't want to act like I have it all figured out. I mean, it's like this: I've only been in one long-term relationship in my life. It was with a girl named Val in college. I loved her -- still do, in fact. But after a while it was just stifling. Like I was denying part of myself -- by not fucking boys, by not fucking other girls, and by making myself so dependent on one person. I can't imagine being in a relationship with anyone, man or woman, where that wasn't the case. So what the fuck am I supposed to do with my life?"
"It sounds like what we have here is just about perfect for you," I said.
"It is, for now. But come on Mike. Do you really think this is going to last?"
I hadn't considered the question before. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, am I going to be living in a polyamorous fuck-house when I'm forty? When I'm sixty? What if I want to have a kid? Not to mention that, with the personalities we have around here, you know that one day things are just going to explode."
I couldn't help but