"What about that one?"

"Which one?"

"The one with the dark hair and the hairy legs. Next to that photo of Prince."

"Are you into that? Hairy legs, I mean?"

"Maybe", I reply with a mischievous smile.

"You're a real dork, you." Emilio chortles at his own words. He sips from his cocktail and peers in the direction of the man I just pointed out.

"Are you appreciating my prey, or did you find one for yourself?"

"I'm looking at the one with the leather jacket. He appears to be friends with mister Hairy Legs."

"You like that? Leather jackets and broad shoulders?"

"What kind of twink would I be if I didn't? You aren't telling me you don't want your guys tall and broad, are you?"

"Of course not. I think it's incredibly erotic to feel as if I'm surrounded by hot meat, to be honest."

"Me too. Especially if they're able to pick you up."

"Yeah, can't disagree."

"Maybe we should go to a gay bar, so that we can actually hunt some prey." Emilio's eyes glint.

We could be each other's wingmen."

"Yeah. I wouldn't want to risk it here to approach someone."

"The others seem pretty engrossed in their discussion, too."

"What is it about?"

"One guess."

"Of course. What else? What the hell do you talk about with Ramiro when you two hang out?"

"Family. Music. Sometimes politics."

"His brain can process the subtleties of the political world?" It's a joke, but with a hint of seriousness.

"Well yeah. If there hasn't just been or isn't going to be an important match."

I snort. "Figured. Let's head out, before my brain dies due to too much talking about football."

***

The gay bar is just as noisy as the one we come from, though the music – and the crowd of course – is different. The only free places are right in the middle of the room. It won't be all that practical to check out the men and I can already feel the hungry gazes crawling down my back, but it will have to do. We sit close to each other, so we'll have more or less the same view.

"Already seen someone you like?" Emilio hollers in my ear.

I shrug and take a look. "What about the one at the table next to us? The tall one?" He's not very muscular, but he has a nice jawline and hair that seems impossible to tame.

"Not bad. And his company isn't either."

I couldn't agree more. Most of them have a similar build and I wouldn't mind some fun with either of them.

"What do you say?" Emilio cuts off my thoughts. "Are we going for a new conquest?"

"I thought you were more the relationship kind of guy?"

"I am. Doesn't mean I don't like some good old flirting and you can't get a relationship without first approaching someone."

"Alright. Who are you going for?"

"The clean-shaven one. I hate kissing someone with a beard."

"Yeah, especially if the hairs aren't soft. Though it has something erotic to have sex with someone with a beard, when they scrape your skin with it."

Emilio shivers dramatically. "Keep that weird fetish of yours to yourself."

"It's not weird and it's not a fetish. I know plenty of guys who think the same way. I'll just admit that it has to be the right kind of guy too. I've had a few experiences with blowjobs that would have been much better if they were clean-shaven."

"Enough chitchat. Are we off? Or rather on?" He winks exaggeratedly.

I return it just as sultrily. "You bet."

We near the table and Emilio introduces us: "Hello, gentlemen. Would you mind some more company for the night? My friend and I would like to spend our time with some new people."

The men laugh and one gestures to take some chairs. "Please, have a seat. We'll never turn down two good-looking young men who are polite as well. What are your names?"

We put our chairs close to our targets before replying. "I'm Abel."

"I'm Emilio."

The clean-shaven guy Emilio fancies, says: "Well, I'm Drew." Then everyone else tells his name. 'My' guy is called Noah. Up close the brown of his skin seems a shade lighter than I thought earlier on. We start a conversation about the music currently playing, laced with heavy flirting. When a silence falls, I glance at Emilio to see him chatting up Drew without problems.

Noah notices whom I'm looking at. "Your friend seems to have excellent social skills. Drew is usually much more uptight with strangers."

"He has a way with breaking the ice."

"And does he break hearts as easily?"

"No, I don't think so. To be honest, I've only known him for, like, seven months and he wasn't in a relationship during that time, but I do know he's not one for one-nightstands or casual sex and he's a good guy."

"Good to know." Then he smirks. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you one for casual sex?"

I pull up my eyebrows, but answer honestly anyway. "Most of my sex life has been with people I dated, but I have had the occasional one-nightstand."

"And are you dating someone now?"

"Nope. You?"

"Neither. Wanna take this somewhere else?"

"Gladly. I just have to let Emilio know."

***

The next evening I get a call from Emilio.

"Hey Abel! You're not with Noah anymore, are you?"

"No, I'm in my dorm."

"Great! I didn't call earlier because I thought that if your night was good, you might have stayed a bit longer and I didn't want to disturb in that case."

"I did actually stay until this afternoon. We went on a lunch date."

"Oh, nice! How was it?"

"The sex or the date?" My grin seeps into my words.

"Both, of course", Emilio replies without faltering.

"Uhm, first things first, the sex was really good. The best one-nightstand I've ever had, I think. Passionate, enough force to be nice, but not rough, you know? I'm not into that sort of thing."

"I totally get you. Me neither. And the date?"

"Well, since we got along so well between the sheets, we wanted to get to know each other a bit better and it was nice, but aside from the physical attraction, there is not much of a spark at the moment, though we agreed to a second date to take things from there and 'reacquaint' ourselves with each other's bodies."

"And you both feel the same?"

"Yeah, we've talked about it. That's also positive: it's easy to be open and honest with one another. What about you, by the way? Have you got yourself a date?"

"Yes! Can you believe it? Drew was super sweet yesterday and he asked me for my phone number, so I was quite sure he was interested and I asked him if he wanted to grab a drink with me some time and he was really enthusiastic then. We're going next week probably and we've already been texting today."

"Nice. I'm really happy for you! Noah told me Drew is usually quite reserved with strangers, so I bet he's already smitten with you."

"You talked about us?"

"Only a few words when we were still in the bar. I wouldn't spoil my sex life by talking about you."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm really great in bed!"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your panties in a twist."

***

Between two classes, while I'm making a quick detour to the restroom, my phone starts vibrating. I'm about to silence it when I see it's Emilio. He never calls me during the day, for the exact reason that I could have classes and be busy, so I'm slightly worried when I accept.

"Hey, Emilio. Is there a problem?"

"My grandfather died last night", he gets straight to the point.

"Oh." For a few moments I'm lost for words. "I'm so sorry. I know how close you were. Were you with him at the time?"

"Yes, my mum had asked me to come down because he was deteriorating. I'm lucky I still got to say goodbye."

"That's good." We keep silent and I take a seat on the toilet lid. "I want to comfort you, but I don't really know what to say. You know I was too young to have a clear memory of the death of my own grandparents."

"Just talk to me. Or breathe. Be there. I don't want to be alone."

"Aren't you with your family?"

"No. I couldn't stand to see his body anymore and they're all arranging the funeral and calling other family members to tell them and crying. It was suffocating. And I went home to eat and rest."

"Home as in?"

"My parents' house. But I would really appreciate it if you could come here for the weekend and the funeral."

"Of course. If you need me, I'll be there."

"Thanks. I can't express how grateful I am to have you."

"That's what friends are for." I ponder my next words. "Tell me more about your grandfather. What's your first memory of him?"

Emilio takes a moment to answer. "When I was like six, I had a sleepover and we tried to bake biscuits for my grandmother. I got to choose the shape and I wanted to make rockets, but the dough wasn't firm enough, so they all collapsed in the oven."

"You were already a space geek back then?" I smile.

"Yeah. I wanted to be the new Neil Armstrong and fly to the moon and be all 'giant leap for mankind'."

"That's cute."

Emilio chuckles. "And naïve." I don't answer, because I'm so happy I made him laugh. "Say, Abel, ... I realise now: don't you have classes?"

"I do. I already missed the beginning of the next one, but it doesn't matter. You're more important at the moment."

"I really want to send you back to class right now, but I'm selfish and I just want you to talk to me for a bit longer. Is that bad?"

"As I said: friends have priority. Do you want me to tell you something or do you want to talk more about your grandfather or something else?"

***

"Guys!" Alice, Ramiro's girlfriend, claps her hands. It's Ramiro's birthday party and Emilio and I are currently sitting on the couch and talking. It's an intimate party, with no more than twenty guests, including Ramiro's cousins and closer friends.

When Alice has all our attention, she continues: "Ramiro and I decided to play a game, to create some nostalgia. In order to do something else than the cliché truth or dare or seven minutes in heaven, I invented one and I need you all to sit or stand in a circle here." Emilio and I exchange challenging glances and comply, just like the others, with exception of one girl who straight out refuses to participate and decides to watch.

"The aim of this game will be to pass things around with our mouth for as long as possible, so you'll have to kiss the people next to you to accept it and to give it to the next. These things can be a sweet, a biscuit, a raw egg, a sip of beer or wine or anything else I and Ramiro can think of. Since he is the one being celebrated, he gets to start."

Emilio leans in to whisper: "It's like college and youth movement all over again."

I nod. Meanwhile, Alice finishes her explanation: "When someone refuses for whatever reason or spits or swallows or spills or just when there isn't anything anymore to give to the next, they and the person before them have to kiss for ten seconds, or if you want to spice things up: make out for ten seconds."

Some of the guys who sit next to a pretty girl, loudly approve of the latter option. I wonder how they will react if they have to make out with the guy on their other side. I say that much to Emilio, who snickers.

"Fùck, I can already imagine their faces. This is going to be wonderful."

I shake my head. "You're evil. Are you ever going to grow up?"

"Nope." He pops the p.

Alice interrupts our little conversation, declaring: "We'll start easy with just some beer. And by the way, if you're going to spit at any moment, please do it in your paper cups, because you'll be cleaning it yourself otherwise."

Then Ramiro takes a firm gulp of beer and kisses Alice. Some of it trickles down their chins, but Alice proceeds to kiss the guy next to her and so on. Most people of the same sex sitting next to each other don't really flinch when they have to kiss and I'm a bit surprised. Or maybe there are more LGBT people here than I realised. Emilio passes the beer down to me without problems and jokingly licks my lips when he pulls away.

"Mm, you taste exquisite, baby." I suddenly want to swallow and I feel lightheaded, so I quickly turn to the next guy. I breathe relieved when the gulp of beer isn't in my mouth anymore.

After that is a round with wine. Emilio seems to have caught on with my discomfort, because he stops flirting. My heart clenches and my emotions swirl. I can't make out what I'm feeling right now. The next round is vinegar, but it doesn't even reach us. The first few people only grimace, but the fourth one – a girl – just spits it out, coughing vigorously.

"That is so disgusting!"

Then Alice says that she has to make out with the guy on her left, who grins happily. Everyone starts cheering their names. Emilio joins in with rigorous enthusiasm, I not that much. I'm still feeling lightheaded and my mind deems it necessary to jump to an image of me having to kiss Emilio like that. I'm not sure if that thought causes tremors of fear or shivers of delight. That realisation hits me square in the face and I'm paying absolutely no attention anymore to what's going on around me. I think the girl and guy make out for more than ten seconds, but I could have dreamt that.

Why does the thought of Emilio suddenly causes such an extreme reaction? It's like some kind of Emilio bomb exploded in my head and now there are pieces of him everywhere. Like how his normally brown eyes look larger in the dim light and almost black. How some of his hair curls around his ear and how a lost hair blinks on his shoulder. How I'd like to knead his legs. How warm I feel when he calls me 'babe', or anything really. How I want to count the knuckles on his hands with my thumbs and study the lines in his palm. How exuberant he is when he grins like this. The list is endless and I give up on naming every single thing.

"Hey, Abel. You all right?"

"Yeah. I don't know. I think I had one too many to drink."

"Do you want to go somewhere quiet? Back to your dorm? Some water to drink?" His concern crackles like electricity under my skin.

"Maybe", I mumble. I'd really like to be alone with him, but it also causes an unease, a fear of awkward silence, of making a fool out of myself.

"It's definitely best if we stop with this game, I think, before something foul in your mouth triggers you to puke your guts out."

I nod. "Probably. I'll just go back to my dorm. You can stay here."

"No way! I'm not letting you walk back on your own. It's not safe if you're not feeling well."

"Okay." I'm too confused right now to protest that I'm not some little kid, because my mind is still going haywire and every time I want to talk to him, joke like we used to, my tongue seems to weigh a ton and I feel extremely nervous and giddy and angsty all at once. The more I think about it and everything is sinking in, the more all seems to point at the same conclusion. There are few things that cause those – and such strong – reactions. Somewhere along the lines of our two-yearlong friendship, I've fallen in love with him.