Someone didn’t make it home last night.”

Ben sits at the table in the seat that faces the front door. I wasn’t expecting an inquisition, but then again, my head is still swirling, so I wasn’t expecting anything.

“Just tell me this. Am I going to have to kick anyone’s ass?”

“What in the world did you imagine happened?” I ask and head to the kitchen to make myself some tea. Since Ted didn’t have any, I really need a caffeine fix. That’s surely the reason for my lack of focus.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Ben stands and stalks into the kitchen. “You’ve never gone out on a date with a man before. This was your first, and it was with someone that you met online, for fuck’s sake. Then I don’t hear a word for the rest of the evening or the next morning. I’ve imagined all sorts of things, Kieran. I’ve imagined you in a ditch, or on the side of the road, or chained up in a basement – and not in the fun way, either.”

My hands drop from where they’ve been fiddling with the tea kettle down to my sides. My mouth falls open too. When I finally have words, they stutter out of my mouth.

“Tinder was your idea! I …”

“Yes, because I’m teaching you how to gay properly. I didn’t realize I had to teach you common sense as well. You text me when you get there. You text me if you go somewhere else with him. You text me if you aren’t going to be coming home so that I don’t worry. And you text me his address so I know where to have the police look for the body.”

I turn and focus on my tea. It’s the only thing that makes sense right now. Certainly not this helicopter-dad who has taken over the body of my roommate.

“Say something,” Ben says, and I expect a foot stomp to soon follow, he’s so angry.

The kettle whistles and I pour the hot water over the tea bag, taking deep meditative breaths as it floats to the top. I grab the tab and dunk the tea bag until I’ve collected my thoughts. Tea in hand, I turn calmly to a glowering Ben. I will try to remember he is upset and acting like a crazy person because he cares. I will try to remember that as I calmly point out the error of his double-standard ways.

“I’ve been your roommate for a full month now.”

His eyebrows twitch like I’ve thrown him off track, so his answer comes out like a question. “Yeah?”

“How many dates have you gone on in that time?” I say, raising the mug to my lips and blowing the steam toward Ben.

“A few,” he says with shrugging shoulders.

“And in that time, how often have you texted me when you’ve arrived at your date? Or when you won’t be coming home?”

Now that he understands my line of questioning, the glower is back. I ignore it and return to the table. I want to sit and enjoy my tea, if that’s even possible at this point.

“That’s different. I’m experienced. I know what to look for,” he says, following me and retaking his seat.

“Well then, you’ll be pleased to know I’m just as inexperienced this morning as I was last night. Nothing happened.”

“Then where were you all night?”

“I got drunk and crashed at his place,” I say with a careless shrug. Yes, I could have worded it better, but at this point, I’m almost egging him on, just to punish him for accosting me like a crazy person first thing.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Ben says, fisting his hands on top of the table. “You could have been drugged. He could have taken advantage of you. Are you certain–”

I cut Ben off with a snap in front of his face that startles him so much, he almost tips backwards in his chair.

“Hey! I can clear this all up in two seconds. Benjamin.” He straightens at his full name. Damn, if only I knew his middle name, I’d be golden. “Would you like to know who I was out with last night?”

When he has regained his balance, Ben says, “I thought it was a guy you met on Tinder.”

“It was,” I say, wishing I could hide the way just the thought of what I’m about to say makes me smile. “But it turned out to be someone we know. I was out on a date with Ted.”

Ben’s eyes bug out. “Game Over Ted?”

“Game Over Ted.”

“Game Over Ted is gay?”

“Game Over Ted is gay.”

“Are you repeating everything I say to make me feel like an idiot?”

“I am repeating everything you say to make you feel like an idiot.”

Ben’s laugh booms in the room. It’s a hell of an improvement over the yelling from before. He sticks both middle fingers up at me before scrubbing at his jawline, like somehow the scrubbing will make the words sink in faster.

“Well, that is certainly one I did not see coming.”

“I’m guessing you hear that a lot?” I say as I smirk into my tea.

“Oh, now you’re all cocky, acting like a smug little shit. If anything had happened to you, I’m the one who encouraged you to use online dating, as you pointed out. It would be on me. And up until this morning I kind of liked you and wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to you. Now, though …”

“Did you want to hear how it went or not?”

“Obviously. Just let me get a refill,” Ben says, and we spend the rest of the morning dissecting the entire date and morning after.

* * *

I’d already planned an afternoon meet-up with BlueJay17, who had turned out to be Ben’s several-time hookup Jay, on Sunday afternoon to fill him in on how the date went.

After he messaged me the first time, we met for coffee at Espresso Patronum, where he works, and figured out soon enough that not only was Ben horribly wrong in his original assessment of Jay’s preferences, but that we would make excellent friends. I can understand how some people might mistake his flamboyance for other things, but honestly, all you have to do is talk to a person to find out their truth. Jay is a sweetheart, but I get the feeling he’s so often misunderstood that he doesn’t have a lot of friends. I’ve determined to remedy that the way Craig was there to help me.

We’ve been texting ever since, and I promised to drop by today, even though he’s working. There aren’t many customers late afternoon on a Sunday, so he has my tea ready by the time I reach the counter.

“On a scale of fruit platter to chocolate croissant, how was the date?” He hands me the oversized mug and hovers next to the bakery case for my response.

“Um, I’m not sure what that scale means,” I say with a laugh.

“Fruit platter means it went well, and you’ve got another date planned, so you need to keep your figure. Chocolate croissant means it was horrible and you need to drown your sorrows in a plate of buttery, chocolatey goodness.”

“Fruit platter,” I say, but stop him as he reaches for it in the case. “But I also haven’t had anything to eat since he fixed me breakfast this morning, so give me the chocolate croissant.”

“Hold the front door.” Jay straightens up from behind the counter and pins me with a look that is half impressed, half skeptical. “He made you breakfast.”

When I nod, he utters a “humph,” then slides two croissants onto a plate and pops them in the microwave before turning to his coworker who is restocking the prep cart. “I’m taking a break.”

Plate in hand, he pulls me by the elbow to a far table.

“I so wish I had been working so I could have seen him last night,” Jay sighs. “Tell me all about him.”

“You might recognize him. He works at, well owns, the video game store down the street.”

I start to pull the croissant apart, letting the warm melted chocolate drip from the middle and scooping it back up with my bite.

“Big bear?” I nod. “Ooh yeah, he’s a cutie I’d like to–” I raise my eyebrows practically through the roof, and he coughs to cover his embarrassment. “See with a good friend like you.”

“I’ve actually known him for a while but didn’t realize he was gay.”

“Oh honey, I knew,” Jay says with a flap of his hand.

“How did you know? No one he works with even knew.”

Jay’s eyes widen and he tries to stall with another bite of croissant. “Oh, um …”

I pull the plate away from him, and he pouts. “Fine, but don’t let him know I told you, if he hasn’t himself already, okay? I don’t want to be a gossip.”

The plate returns to the middle of the table, but I keep my hand on it in case I need to follow through with my threat. It’s unnecessary, as Jay takes a breath and says, “I’ve seen him at the leather bar outside of Denver.”

I blink. A few times. “But he’s vegan.”

“So?” Jay looks at me like I’ve lost it. “Maybe it’s just for health reasons.”

“No. He specifically said it was at least partly because he was a softie.”

Jay pats my hand where it still holds the croissant plate with a death grip. “Sweetie, I think you’re getting your mind wrapped around the wrong things.”

“Such as?”

“Such as I’ve seen your man in leather. And you, my friend, are in for a treat.”

I try to scoff at his words, but my mouth has gone suddenly dry at the mental image of Ted in leather, vegan or not.

“We still haven’t gotten to the part where the leather bear made you breakfast,” Jay whines. “And my break is almost over.”

I quickly tell Jay about the rest of the date but get interrupted when Ted texts me to see if I want to meet him for lunch somewhere in Old Town tomorrow. I answer back with a “Hell yes” and then have to promise to text Jay all the details. He asks for pictures and I threaten to hack his Grindr account and replace his photo with a picture of a sleestak. He doesn’t get the reference. I know Ted would.

On the drive home, I decide to check in with my folks. I have one of those douchey-looking Bluetooth earpieces for work that I get to take with me wherever I go. And it hooks up to my personal as well as my work phone. Because God knows my car is too ancient to have the right hookup.

It’s been about a week since we last spoke, and I feel like I’m making up for lost time. When I was in the closet, I was so scared of slipping up or disappointing them that I just avoided them altogether.

When I came out to them at Christmas, I had no idea what to expect. I have great parents, but they’re also fairly religious, and homosexuality wasn’t something we’d ever really discussed other than our widely varying opinions on Lady Gaga. I shouldn’t have worried. The response from my parents was hugs and love, and the not-so-gentle reminder from my mom that I can always adopt. My sisters complained that I wasn’t the good kind of gay, since I’m still me, and still hate shopping. I didn’t bother to school them, because I know them well enough to know they were just trying to get a rise out of me.

Mom picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Hey Mom. How are things going?”

I get to feign interest in her book club and my dad’s upcoming colonoscopy, which – TMI by the way. But I’m happy to do it. I’m happy that our family dynamic is back to normal.

“Oh, by the way, Carly signed up for a campus visit. I told her she could stay overnight with you.”

Carly, my little sister, is in her junior year of high school. We all know she’s going to CSU. She’s had her heart set on it for years, even before I went there.

“She visited all the time when I was at school. And you guys live, like, thirty minutes away. Why would she need an official visit?”

“Because it shows her interest and it looks good on applications. And she can network.”

I don’t remember my campus visit being any of those things, but if Carly wants to waste a Saturday, who am I to argue?

“Fine, she can stay with me. But I’m not giving up my bed. Tell her to bring an air mattress or a sleeping bag or something.”

“Your concern for your sister is overwhelming,” Mom says with a dry voice.

“She’s young. She won’t even feel it.”

Mom’s laugh vibrates the speakers and tickles my ear as I pull into the apartment parking lot.

“I’m home, so I’m going to let you go. Love you.”

“Love you too, Kieran. Thanks for calling.”

I take the steps two at a time up to the apartment. I’ve got a full belly and a full heart. And a lunch date tomorrow with a kind, hot, teddy bear of a man. Life’s pretty fucking good.