Bryan

Bryan was a people-person, ever since school.

He never had any trouble getting dates on a Saturday night. 

"The ladies love me." Shrug. Smile. Raised eye brows. "And some of the boys," he said, "I don't care, I see people not sexuality."

He smiled.

"I like who I like, and not because I have a shortage of offers, but because I see beyond the surface of people. It's not about sex, it's about people."

A bisexual, or pansexual person is just someone who doesn't specifically find mates in one gender class. Maybe you are just more open minded, more secure in your own skin, I don't know.

"Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on Saturday night," said Bryan. "It doubles mine." That always made Bryan smile.

It sometimes made the other boys uncomfortable.

"A bisexual is someone who, when they reach down someones pants, they are satisfied with whatever they find. "

"Big, small? Tight, loose?"

"All of those things," said Bryan.

"Suck it, lick it?"

Bryan smiled, that smile, that great smile.

The other boys on the football team that Bryan captained, fidgeted in their seats.

Bryan's Farewell

It was the end of the night, most of the streamers had fallen from the ceiling and were hanging down in random loops. The balloons, which drifted across the room when anyone passed by, were dimpling, like puckered arses. Some girls were still wearing party hats as they headed out the door with their shoes in their hands.

Bryan was hanging by the door, gazing out over the front veranda. The music had stopped, it was just voices now. He’d drunk enough to make himself feel sad at this point, but not enough for him not to care.

The moon was bright in the night sky.

Bryan never had any trouble getting dates on a Saturday night, his mother’s words rang in his ears. The ladies love him. Shrug. Smile. Raised eye brows. And some of the boys, too, she’d say, always with that twinkle in her eyes, like she was being risqué.

The thought made him smile. “Yeah, mum,” he whispered in the departing revellers direction.

A breeze blew in, it was a balmy night outside. Tree branches were like fingers across the face of the moon, Bryan thought of the hand gesture from Pulp Fiction. He leant his head against the door frame and thought about the coming events.

"Hey? Bryan," said a drunken voice behind him.

It was Robbie, suddenly standing next to him, his sister’s ex-boyfriend. He and Robbie had been mates ever since Robbie and Sienna split, much to Sienna’s chagrin.

"You headin OS tomorrow, I hear?" Robbie slurred.

"Yep," said Bryan. "Tomorrow."

"Fuck! Twelve fucken months."

"Twelve fucken months. Yep."

Robbie raised his eye brows. “Are you lookin forward to it?”

Bryan shrugged. He had been looking forward to it up until recently. “Yep.”

Robbie opened his eyes wide, his forehead creased. “Are ya scared?”

Scared? Bryan wasn’t sure. Maybe apprehensive about the unknown, expectedly. He laughed. “Yep.”

Robbie closed one eye, as if he was trying to focus. "Oh man, I know I've had a couple of pills and a skin full of alcohol, but, but..." Robbie threw his arms around Bryan. "I love you man." Robbie hugged Bryan tightly, bear style. Bryan recoiled momentarily, almost overwhelmed, but it felt good being held, embraced. He missed that.

Bryan stroked Robbie's hair, without thinking. "I like you too, mate," Bryan said close to Robbie's ear. Bryan stroked Robbie's neck. His skin was soft. Bryan hugged Robbie tight.

"You need more beer, or what?" slurred Robbie. He turned his head and gazed at Bryan within their embrace, waiting for his response.

"Ha?" said Bryan. He could feel Robbie's breath on his face. "More beer?" he said with a quizzical laugh.

"I only got a 'like.'" Rob did parenthesis on Bryan's back with his fingers. "What's with that?"

Bryan could feel Robbie stroking his back, maybe absentmindedly, as he waited for Bryan's response. He'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. It felt good, being stroked. Touched. It's what he'd been thinking about as he gazed outside, moments earlier.
Robbie laid his head on Bryan's shoulder and nuzzled his neck.

"How many pills did you say you'd had?"

"Enough." Robbie laughed. "To tell you I loved you." He drew Bryan closer in their embrace. “Really love you.”

Holding another person of the same size, build, stature, had always felt good to Bryan. It scared him just a little. It felt equal, real, no pressure to be the alpha male. It didn’t make him feel huge and clumsy, like an oaf walking on egg shells, as it did with a petite woman. Dare he say that it made him feel normal? Bryan stroked Robbie's hair again. "We'll be having to get a room soon..."

Robbie giggled into Bryan's shoulder. "Why can't two guys be in love?"

Bryan rubbed Robbie’s back.

Robbie smelt good, clean and sweet. Bryan figured it was probably just shampoo, but he inhaled anyway. He scrunched his hand in the back of Robbie's hair.

"I love you too, man."

Robbie squirmed in Bryan’s arms.

We went out to the movies, me and Kaine and some of his friends. I really liked Kaine's mate, Bryan, a fellow writer. He was smart and cute and a little shy, with a kind of inner strength. He seemed very centred, an old soul, as they say. Beautiful eyes, nice lips. While Kaine was boisterously in conversation with the other guys, Bryan and I chatted fiction and flirted quietly with each other. I felt a little disappointed when he was the first to head home. Our gazes lingered, as he said his good-byes. I wanted to go with him. I couldn't help but watch him walk away up Swanston Street. He stole a look back at me, just at the last minute. It was nice.

Then I felt Kaine’s hand take mine and squeeze it, as he gently tugged on my arm. As I returned my attention to him, he was giving me a semi-quizzical look, tilted head, raised eye brows, just momentarily.

I guess he noticed.

I suppose that's a bad thing, hey? Men! Hands in the air. Eye roll. Head shake. Who needs them?

(That's self deprecation and not a comment on Kaine, you understand. Was that clear? I'm not sure.)