January 18, 1986
1:17 pmI seem to have acquired a boyfriend in Craig. I'd planned to start writing about him earlier, try to put down exactly the history of a relationship but stopped for fear that writing might make it come true. Oh well.
We got off early from work again, we took the A train down to Fourth Street, stopped at the copy shop to pick up a script. We had to wait because it was put in the wrong slot -- a bound, 70-page script costs $6.96 to copy. Then we stopped at his apartment where I met his roommate Doug and his friend Carl, who works at the Strand. We talked of Tiffany (who worked there and moved to Oregon). Doug thought he was dead. They were playing a game that looked like Risk but wasn't.
Craig and I sat in front of the window watching Second Avenue go by. I wanted to touch him then, he kept a distance and babbled, he babbles a lot. Renaldo, the other roommate came home and I left, telling Craig to give me a call if he went out later.
I started to rearrange my apartment, moved all the paintings into the kitchen and watched a bit of Miami vice. A rich widow was trying to triple her $15 million inheritance with coke. A couple of people died and Sonny told one snitch he'd better not get a jaywalking ticket.
Craig called to invite me to go out to eat but I'd picked up something and told him to stop by later if he liked. He stopped by quickly with Becks and we sat in the bedroom talking about art and theater -- I'm learning about playwriting from him, or what he thinks of playwriting.
He liked the cardboard pieces. We listened to Paul Winter playing in the Grand Canyon and Craig wanted to go to Tower Records to buy Wagner. We left but detoured to his apartment for a joint. He asked if I'd ever been in the bar and I said yes. He rolled a joint and I sat on his mattress. He said he was amazed I was gay, I was so masculine, nobody would ever tell.
I didn't say anything but wondered what he could possibly think masculine meant. I pulled him over and kissed him. Renaldo was in his room (the walls are made of fabric and any noise can be heard through them) so we decided to go back to my place.
That we did and when we took off our clothes and embraced the last two years evaporated with the touch of my fingers against smooth, hairless skin. His was an Irish body -- white like marble and solid, the kind that will turn to fat in a few years but for now the stomach is hard and defined, the pecs small but rounded, the legs sturdy, the face sometimes plain sometimes incredibly handsome the skin so tender the slightest rub will produce a redness.
I tried to steer him away from sucking or kissing but he lapped up my cum after I shot it. I hoped it wasn't dangerous and planned to talk with him about "safe sex" and buy some condoms.
We listened to Stockhausen on the radio then somebody pretending to write Mozart. Craig left so as not to encounter Jess (he still hasn't come home as I write this).
The day is bright, warm and spring-like. Beautiful.