I decided bootleg booze was a requirement for watching the movie "Ted." I have an enormous purse, a big "water" bottle, and I remembered that Sgt. Younger had expressed a new-found love of Sweet Tea Vodka, so before I went over to his place that Friday night, I prepared. Most people mix up their STV drinks at a 50/50 ratio with lemonade, right?
At his place, he was really excited that I'd thought ahead to bring booze. As he poured us a drink to enjoy while we chatted, I realized it was maybe not my best idea ever to feed booze to the person driving me around for the evening. Huh. Did not think that through. Perhaps he was thinking ahead, though, because he got out a small cooler and stowed the booze in his trunk. He said we would save it for later, and I briefly wondered: just what are we doing later?
I had very low expectations for Ted, so that's probably why I was pleasantly surprised. Or the movie was just another in a long line of movies where I found a sweet-faced foul-talking character funny: see also "Role Models." Maybe I'm just a 12 year-old boy at heart. Of course, I also had two pints of beer during the movie, on top of the STV I'd enjoyed with Sgt. earlier in the evening, so it's possible I was a little drunk. I also might have been high on personal contact--Sgt. Younger had his hand on my knee/leg during most of the movie and he'd give me the occasional light rub or little squeeze.
After the movie, he suggested we adjourn to a bar. Of course! Because I needed more to drink? No. We were going to consume the booze in his trunk? No. We thought it would be fun to check out the late-night karaoke scene at a bar in our neighborhood, a place that was well-known (to me) as an excellent weird people watching spot. Sadly, the bar closed early that night. At least, it was closed when we arrived, and I realized that I had not only had no idea what time of night it was, I didn't care. We moved along to the bar closest to my house, and played a game of pool before heading back to his place.
He invited me inside, and suggested that it would be a good time to finish off the booze. When bars are closed, you drink booze at home. Right? I told him I could have one drink, and we sat down at his table to listen to some of his music on his laptop. I got my iPod out of my car, and played him a few songs I thought he'd like. I also had to face the cringe-worthy aspects of my music collection; how did he go straight to the Glee cast section so quickly?
It was at this point in the evening that I realized sunrise might not be too many hours off. Sgt. Younger also got quiet, and told me he was pretty tired. I jumped up from my seat at his table, not wanting to overstay my welcome, and told him I was going to go. He tipped his chair back, stretched, and told me he wanted me to stay.
Wait. . .what? I know I gave him a perplexed look. I had a lot of thoughts, all jumbled together: stay like a slumber party where we're going right to sleep because we're really tired? Stay like now is the time when we get naked? We've barely even kissed standing up, wouldn't we be skipping (a bunch of) steps? Are we going to have some sort of talk right now? Is there any booze left because this might be a situation where I could use a little liquid courage? What am I talking about, I can't have a drink and then drive myself home, even if it is only five minutes away?
I felt like he was expecting a response other than my "huh?!" face. So I told him I needed to use his facilities. When in doubt, take a pee break? Yes, this was a sensible move.
But as I started to walk across the room, he stood up and met me halfway to the bathroom. And when I say "met me," I mean he took me in his arms and nearly kissed all my clothes off. I have no idea if this is a skill all Marines know (but I am willing to do additional research into that theory) or if he'd just become some sort of make-out master through years of practice. Either way: WHOA.
Except by this point, I actually did have to pee. I somehow backed away from him slightly, and said something (probably) witty and delightful like "I seem to have gotten lost on my way to the ladies room." I went into the bathroom, took care of pressing business, and gave myself a stern look in the mirror while I washed my hands. "Hey lady," the voice in my head warned me, "you are in uncharted waters. Proceed with caution."
The voice in my head is smart. The only fella I'd slept with since my divorce was a guy who I ended up having a year and a half relationship with. We'd gone on 17 dates before we finally had sex, and we'd had all sorts of conversations about taking it slow and birth control. Before that guy, well, it had been at least 10 years since I'd been out in the dating world. Uncharted waters, indeed.
Back in the living room, Sgt. Younger had put on his shirt and buttoned it up. In fact, he was sitting down, and stood up when I came out. I smiled at him, but before I could say anything, he came over to me and gave me a hug. Sgt. Younger is a world-class hugger. He is Winner and Still Champion at Hugging Me. This hug he gave me wasn't the best hug he ever gave me, but it was good enough that I knew if hugging was an Olympic sport, he would win gold. I can't precisely describe it, but this almost best hug ever started with a good long squeeze, his arms tight across my mid and lower back. As he started to gently rub my back slightly, I think he hummed a little "mmmm" right in my ear. I do know that by the time he was whispering "will you stay?" I could only respond with a nod. This kid made me weak in the knees (and other places, too).
More kissing, he walked me backwards into his bedroom, clothes flew, the lights were still on, (the lights were still on?!?!!), he addressed the safety issue on my mind with barely a word. Yadda yadda yadda, he gave me a t-shirt and shorts and we slept for about five hours.
The first thought on my mind when I awoke: how weird is this going to be right now? Because I felt pretty weird. Tired? Check. Hungover? Check. Assuming that he was probably not going to ever talk to me again because now we'd had sex and what if that was all he was looking for because it's not like I knew since we hadn't had any sort of conversation like that and holy cow I had sex with this kid on our fourth date? Check.
He asked me if I was thirsty (OMG YES), so he got up to get us some ice water. While he was in the kitchen, I got dressed, folded the clothes he'd loaned me, and made the bed. I. . .don't know. Since my thoughts were so scattered, I felt better about organizing my surroundings. He laughed a little when he delivered my water, in a "oh, this is borderline nutty or possibly cute" sort of way. We talked a little bit about his potential plans for the day--some sort of beer festival with a buddy. He asked me what I was doing later, and I said "going to bed before 4 am, for sure." Was he asking me because he wanted to see me that night? Was he just making conversation? I am sure I could've been more normal right then, but I wasn't.
I told him I had to get going, and he gave me a hug, and I left. Goodbye, Sgt. Younger, maybe forever.
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