Page 24 of Seen
“Did she?”
“Yes.” She went through all the side effects. Twice. “You were too busy panicking.”
Neil’s eyebrows quirk in a practised, half-innocent way. “Who, me? Nah. I was distracted by your hand. No one holds my hand. Ever.”
“I wasn’t holding it, I was preventing you from doing a runner.” I push the wine bottle over towards him. “Have some. I can’t drink it all by myself. I’ll be on the floor.”
His amused glance pauses a little too long. Not quite suggestive but not quite innocent either.
“But humour me,” I hurriedly add, “and put your wine glass a bit further from the edge of the table. Its proximity to your elbow is making me nervous.”
“My…um… dyslexia worrying you?” Neil teases.
“A bit. It’s worrying my cream rug more.”
Fucking with me, Neil moves his wine glass precisely one inch closer to the middle.
“When did you know you were gay?” I ask, mostly to change the subject, but partly because I want him to think there’s more to me than a sounding board for his eye problems. And, according to Alaric who absolutely knows these things, this is the second-commonest question gay men ask each other on a not-date. The first, as far as Neil is concerned, is none of my business.
“I’m bi, pan, whatever, actually, though I tend to have more sex with men. Don’t get me wrong. I love women, especially their boobs, but they worry me that they’re going to want a situationship.”
I roll my eyes. “Pretty sure plenty out there just want to get railed. Like plenty of men,” I add, as if I know anything about that. Whoever Neil has railed, of whichever gender, I’m bloody envious.
“Probably.” Neil’s grin is wicked. “But I’m not very good at working out which ones beforehand.” He shrugs. “Fortunately for me, I love cocks as much as I love boobs, and most people with cocks aren’t looking for that. Not from someone like me, anyhow.”
“So you’re not seeing anyone regularly?”
I’m confident I know the answer already. Otherwise, he’d be fucking his way out of his misery instead of having an extremely civilised but probably slightly dull evening with a man trying to hide his anxiety issues while pretending conversations about who we like to fuck are totally within his wheelhouse.
“Can’t get it up, doc,” he answers, not the least bashful. “Not at the mo, anyhow. Both my heads are too fucking preoccupied with this pair of shysters.” He points to his beautiful eyes.
“Oh, okay.”
I’ve gone through a few low periods over the years, during which I haven’t sustained a decent erection, but I’m not about to compare notes. Neil's ability to freely discuss it is a measure of his sexual confidence. I envy that, too.
“Well…um, hopefully that side of things will improve soon.”
“Tell me about it. But no, I steer clear of situationships. Alaric’s the only guy I used to see on the regular. Ezra and me go back a bit too, but that’s well in the past.”
“So, you’ve never had anyone serious?”
“Nah.” He fidgets with his fork, twisting it over. “I did fall for a guy once, quite a few years ago now. A bloke called Tristan. Got bruised, and it kind of put me off.”
I’m curious. “Why didn’t it work out?”
Smiling, Neil gives a half-shrug. “Someone came along even more determined than me to have him and muscled me out, just as I was getting somewhere. I’d say this new guy’s massive trust fund was a factor, but Tristan’s not like that.” He shrugs again. “C’est la vie. Now Tris spends half the year in sunny California and the other half in a Canary Wharf penthouse. I’m totally over him, though it stung at the time. What about you? You’re into guys, aren’t you?”
I should tense up. I’m not hiding anything, but this is generally a loaded question, and I’m a tensing-up sort of person. Especially as I have next to zero experience with a man. Maybe the wine's making me garrulous but right now, admitting my inexperience to Neil feels more like a declaration than a confession. “Yes, I am. At least, I think I like the idea of being with a man.”
Neil’s eyes narrow. “You think? Or you know?”
“I’ve had a couple of short-lived girlfriends in the past but neither worked out. In retrospect, because I knew I wasn’t really into it. And then I was busy with work, and I’ve never been the biggest extrovert anyhow. I’d never have the nerve to doonline dating or anything. And then, a couple of years ago, I had my…um… health problems. Since, I’ve not been…uh… sexually active.”
“Hey, that’s no crime. Nor am I, currently.”
The difference between us being that, if sexual encounters were airline points, Neil could fly three times around the world for free. But two glasses of wine in, and my tongue thinks we’re playing truth or dare. “Not because I’m asexual or don’t want it,” I tag on, “but I haven’t had the headspace to focus on anyone except myself. And I’ve never admitted this properly to a single person until now.”
“A couple of years without is nothing to be ashamed about.” Neil sips at his water, a half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Plenty of active volcanoes haven’t gone off in a century or more.”
