Page 3 of Dance This Song With Me?

Sasha, my ex-flatmate, had called while I'd been sitting in the rideshare. He was complaining about his latest man. Honestly, the guy went through boyfriends the way he went through underwear, which said a lot given his penchant for changing his junk holders for each different activity he did. Work? Hip briefs. Coffee shop meetup? Thong. Club or bar? Jockstrap. And if he went to more than one club, heaven forbid he wear the same at both. I'd lost count of the different types of underwear he had but the most he'd worn in a day - that I knew of - was 5. How many pairs of underwear did you have to own to manage that unless you wanted to make doing laundry one of your hobbies?

But he was a cool guy, so I was supportive, listened to the long litany of complaints, made helpful encouraging comments such as 'uh-huh' and 'mm, yeah', and then agreed with him that his boyfriend - who I'd never met, because well, see my point above - was a complete douche, and yes, he should totally give him one more chance, and Sasha had hung up as abruptly as he'd rung, presumably to run off and give his guy that extra chance.

I was still shaking my head when I entered the flat, distracted by Sasha's chaos, and it wasn't until a few days later, when I finally got around to doing laundry, that the crackling sound in my jeans caught my attention.

I pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of the back pocket and stared at it. The flyer wasn't very professionally done - it looked like it'd come off a home printer - and if I'd accidentally run it through the wash, the ink would most certainly have run and it would have become illegible.

But here it was... an accidental save.

What the heck? Maybe the universe was sending me a message.

Chapter 2

EMILIO

"I don't know, man, I can't do it. I wouldn't even know what to say to them."

My friend Eddy had brought his boyfriend over to my house to ask a favor and right now I was shaking my head and staring daggers at him. I didn't need this shit. Life was busy.

"It's really not that hard," Jase insisted. He flipped open the cover of a display folder he'd dropped onto the table in front of me. "Most of the questions or requests fall into one of a few categories, and I've got a suggestion list for each of those scenarios. Doesn't matter which one you pick, or you can suggest them all. As long as you write something!"

I looked reluctantly at the first page.

It was a list of LGBTQ+ clubs and bars broken down by district. I scanned the entries for the CBD and North Sydney... most of them I knew - I had an active social life after all - but there were a few I'd never heard of. I wondered if I should take a note of them myself. Turning the page, I saw a similar list, this time restaurants of different cuisines.

"A lot of people are just looking for date ideas," Jase tapped the page, "so I usually suggest something fairly generic, unless their email has given me any hints about their personality or preferences. Remember, it's one and done... they write in, you answer, and that's it. No followup. Easy."

"Just like you guys, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you exchange quite a few emails?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, that was a mistake...I mean..."

"Hey!" Eddy's protest cut off anything Jase was about to say. "I don't like being referred to as a mistake!"

"Fuck off!" Jase playfully elbowed Eddy in the ribs. "You know what I mean. I could've lost my job over that."

"Too late, I'm offended!"

"Aw, I'll just have to make it up to you, babe," Jase moved in close to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him and getting in real close. Oh, dios mio! I was about to get one of their revolting displays of PDA.

"Not here, you guys! I haven't gotten laid since last weekend! I don't wanna have to watch your shit," I warned them. The PDA between these two was always disgustingly intense. They hadn't got past the honeymoon stage of their relationship... yet.

"Oooh, pla-y-e-r..." Eddy made faces at me.

"Haha. I play but I don't stay, okay? Not falling for any of the feelings bullshit."

"Sure, Emilio. One day you're gonna find the man of your dreams and we're gonna be the ones laughing."

"You'll be too busy sucking face to notice," I shot back. We were just playing with each other. Honestly, I was glad for Eddy. His last boyfriend had been a real dick to him. Eddy had written in to Aunt Macie for advice - the same 'Aunt Macie' who they were now trying to convince me to be while they went on a six-week holiday to Europe - and somehow had come out of it with Jase as his boyfriend.

Jase was paid to answer the LGBTQ+ questions that Aunt Macie's advice column received but he had definitely not stuck to his one-and-done philosophy in Eddy's case. Eh, it was cute enough, but unlike Eddy and Jase, I liked variety in my sex life and was really only interested in hookups right now. Anything more repetitive sounded boring. My social life kept me busy, I didn't need a second job, and...

"C'mon, Emilio, you'd be great at it," begged Eddy.

I flicked to the next page of the folder, frowning in disbelief as I read the page.