After Game Night

Nick’s a great guy… hell, we’re both great guys. But the thing is, we’re both… well, you know… guys. Which is why what happened that night caught me so off guard. Let alone what….

Sorry. Let me explain.

To begin. Everyone calls me Finn, a play off my middle name, which I hate. I first met Nick a few years back when I hired him. It was seasonal work for an organization I worked for, as part of their summer festival–the kind of gig that provided a massive amount of hours over a 2-month period, which made it a popular summer job option for college students. I had taken that track myself and stayed with it, working my way up the chain of command and scoring a permanent position on the full-time staff. At age 26, I had risen to become the head manager, in charge of hiring, training and supervising the event staff.

And I have to say I was in the prime of life. Far out enough from college to have my shit together, but still young enough that there were wide-open possibilities for life. I worked out fairly regularly to keep myself in good shape, coming in at 6 feet tall, with a trim athletic build covered with a dusting of body hair I never bothered to manscape. With good looks and an upbeat personality, I was popular within my social circles and had notable luck with the ladies. I tried to keep a professional look going for work, but at heart I was a scruffy, T-shirt and jeans kind of guy. All in all, life was good.

Hiring for the summer was a whirlwind. Because we had to hire a sizable number of people in a short period of time, we ran group interviews, with me and a couple other co-workers I brought in to get feedback on the applicants. All was going well, perfectly mundane and orderly… and then Nick came in for his interview.

His effect on the two women sitting in on the interview was… considerable. And juuuuuust this side of embarrassing. As for me? Well, I never thought of myself as anything but a perfectly normal, red-blooded straight guy… but even I gaped. He was the living embodiment of the All-American Guy. He was handsome, at that exact middle point between being a pretty boy and a rugged hunk. His eyes were… I dunno, bright. With a killer smile. And it was clear from the way his clothes hung on him that he had a strong athletic frame. More than anything, there was an air of casual, effortless masculinity about him. And loads of friendly charm.

Nick also had an air of… cockiness…? going on. Certainly confidence. He filled up the room. We learned he was part-way through law school, and he gave off a vibe that he was very comfortable in his opinions, and that any argument was his for the winning. Not exactly a red flag, but notable. I took a chance and hired him; when I told the others who helped interview him, one of the women gave me a lurid grin, and made a pointed request to let her know if he ever got “naughty” and needed to be “disciplined.”

Once the summer season got under way, I started to have second thoughts about my new hire Nick. What read as “confidence” in the hiring process became “being insufferable” during the work shifts. And what at first felt like “filling up the room,” became excruciating, know-it-all blathering. Jesus, the man argued about everything. He always had “better” ideas and was a walking suggestions box. Everyone was rapidly losing all patience with him.

In one of my better moves as a supervisor, I decided to take a different approach with Nick. Ok… if he was going to bristle against authority and loudly announce how our systems were all screwed up, why not make him put his money where his mouth was? One day, I approached him at the start of a shift and said, “Hey Nick, let me ask you something. You know the supply tent is a nightmare. We try to organize it, but it ends up being trashed again by the end of a shift. We need to organize it so folks can get to the supplies fast, but it needs to be set up so that it stays organized and is easy to maintain. How would you go about it?”

Put this way, as a problem we trusted him to fix, and I swear the guy was a better problem-solver than MacGyver. He threw himself into the project and totally changed how we organized everything, leading to massive time-savings. Doing inventory became… fun. And soon he was doing this with every idiot project we dropped in his lap to keep him busy.

And along the way, he went from being a jerk to being among our more popular employees. I think it was a case where once he felt like he was being valued, he became more comfortable in his skin and stopped trying to “prove” himself all the time. He relaxed, and the real Nick came out. He went from being a know-it-all to just an interesting guy, with a huge range of interests and quirky tastes.

Over time, we actually became pretty good friends, and stayed in contact well after the summer ended and he headed back to law school. We weren’t what I’d think of as best friends, and we had our own social circles, but when we did get together we’d have a blast. We both dreamed about travel. He had Antalya travesti absolutely thrown himself into becoming a grill master, and we started comparing notes on new, improved rubs and sauces as he worked out his various ideas. Similarly, I had starting branching off into making hand-made, craft cocktails, and he enthusiastically sampled my latest mad-scientist concoctions and provided helpful feedback.

Time passed. A few years later, after I found the perfect girl, Nick and I were still close enough that I invited him my wedding… and a year or so after that he returned the favor for his. We had the kind of friendship where we didn’t see each other for long stretches at a time, but when we did meet up things fell right into place. It also helped that our wives got along, too.

Nick and I had been in one of those quieter, low-power phases when out of the blue I got a message from him. A good friend of his named Hunter was trying to organize a weekly game night with another of their friends… would I have any interest in rounding out the foursome?

I contemplated. I knew Hunter somewhat; our paths had crossed professionally a few times, and I knew him to be a good guy. It could be fun. But I was also very much aware that I hadn’t played board games for years… I had no idea about these new, hard-core games with a zillion pieces and rule books as thick as a novel. But in the end, I was intrigued enough to agree. Guys, after all, are horrible at making friends after college, and as much as I loved my wife, I was looking forward to male companionship… where we could drink a bit too much, eat food that would rot our guts, swear a bit too loudly, and generally be ourselves.

I agreed, and Game Night was on!

And in short order Game Night was a cornerstone of our lives. All in all, it was a good group of guys, with us four regulars and a shortlist of “extras” who drifted by as they could. We agreed to a fixed, recurring night every week, and with rare exceptions stuck to it.

And… well, one of the reasons I loved my pack of hoodlums was that we ended up being there for each other. No matter how brutally competitive we were on the gameboard, no matter how many red-faced shouting matches we got into, we were always bedrock in each other’s’ corner. As time went by, we helped each other navigate layoffs, personal disputes, rough patches, and the birth of a couple of kids. But we didn’t do so in that gauzy, bubble-bath way that women support each other. I mean, we almost always talked about our problems indirectly; the more personal it was, the more studiously we fiddled with the dice or worker tokens. The more pain involved, the less eye-contact we made. And yet in our indirect, manly way we had each other’s backs… all the while studiously doing something else. Plus, we kept up rough language, spilled drinks, ball-busting, trash talking, and humor that would have had to be considerably elevated to be considered “low.”

And through it all, Nick and I keep up a strong friendship of our own. Outside Game Night we’d continue to shoot each other news stories or movie clips if we thought the other one would be interested. Our wives became friends, and more than once we would do all rounds of bar trivia. I also sometimes got the vibe that he… huh, I don’t know quite how to explain it. Like he really looked up to me, like a big brother thing. I chuckled that he seemed to feel that way; I had only been his boss for like 3 months, nearly 10 years previously.

***

One evening, Game Night got all changed up. Hunter, the usual host, had to give way, as his in-laws were in town to dote on Hunter’s son, and a crew of loud guys ragging each other about this or that misplayed move was in no way going to fly at his house. That week, my wife was going to be out of town for a long weekend, so we shifted to my place, with Hunter getting a temporary Leave of Absence to join us. We ended up moving Game Night to Friday night to take advantage of my empty house. Well, at least Nick and I could take advantage of it… neither of us had kids to rouse us out of bed at dawn. I appreciated one particular aspect about hosting–I was free to get shit-faced on my own cocktails for a change. I ordered up a shit-ton of Chinese food for us to devour, and got the house ready.

The crew was in excellent form. But as it turned out, that week’s game ended up moving faster than usual. After a relatively quick round, Hunter decided he should high-tail it back to tend to his inlaws–always a wise move–and our other regular, Dave, decided to call it a night as well. Nick held back for bit, which I didn’t mind at all. As a proper host, I offered to refresh his adult beverage, and somewhat to my surprise he eagerly took me up on it. I got the idea he wasn’t keen on heading home.

Clinking glasses, we launched into a loud, opinionated discussion of a sci-fi novel I had just read at his recommendation. Well into our drinks, our back-and-forth rang out with a few too many cries of “Here’s Antalya travestileri where you’re wrong!” for polite company, but was expected among good friends. But I noted that as we talked, his comments had more of an… edge to them. And there was… a bit more intensity in his eyes. What started as playful banter ended up getting… awkward.

After a pause, he breathed out heavily and said, “Sorry Finn, I started treating you like a hostile witness. My bad.”

“Nah, we’re good,” I responded easily. “Anything going on? You didn’t seem yourself while we were playing.” I didn’t point out that it was somewhat unusual for him and I to hang out after Game Night. I mean, I didn’t mind hanging out with him. Not at all.

Nick was quiet for a second, reached for his drink and bit back a taste of it. He gave a sigh that was a curious mix of exasperation, frustration, and general weariness, and said, “Oh, just the usual guy complaint. Bets has completely shut me down.” He paused, looking anywhere else. “You know, in bed.”

“Ouch. Sorry man,” I responded, and diligently studied my drink. After a few beats of silence, I looked up at him again. “Can I ask how long?” I said with a wince that carried into my voice.

“Since Valentine’s Day.”

I blurted out a response without thinking. “Wait, what? A great guy… a great looking guy like you?” Damn. Was that the booze talking? I mentally kicked myself… that probably only made him feel worse. I shifted gears. “I’m sorry, man. Just… sorry. Not even like a blowjob?”

Nick gave me a frank look that dripped with frustration. “Blowjob? Are you kidding me? Is there any wife who gives out a blowjob? Man, those dried up a couple years ago. And I don’t even know if I can complain, as she clearly wasn’t into it. Although she likes it just fine when I go down on her. Pffffft!” That last part was accompanied by an eye-roll so intense it about caused structural damage to my ceiling.

“Yeah, I hear you,” I commiserated. “Nan’s not into it either. Or… particularly skilled.”

We both looked meaningfully at each other and started to snicker… before erupting into all-out gales of laughter. “Fuck man, what the hell is with that?” Nick asked, with a sense of wonder.

“Man, I have no idea. But Jesus… all they do is a couple of weak bobs and say, ‘Now it’s my turn!’ Don’t they know that if they put just a tiny bit of effort into it, the guy would eat out of her hand for the rest of his life?”

“Seriously!” Nick agreed, with indignation ringing in his voice. He went on. “But… I thought she liked the other stuff we did–so did I. But that’s petered out, too. And now she’s thinking of letting her sister stay with us for a while to get on her feet. I mean, the last shreds of intimacy just flew out the window.”

“Well, I guess that’s why God gave us online porn,” I offered up helpfully. Nick looked at me with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was because talking about sex when my wife was out of town had gotten my own juices flowing.

But for some reason, I went on.

Laughingly, I said, “Well, if you can’t get action with women, you can always try getting it on with another guy! You know guys will never say ‘no!'”

Nick laughed, but made a hurt face and fired back, “Hey, now… what are you saying!”

“Oh come on. You were part of a frat in college, right? Wasn’t that just one big gay orgy?”

Nick winced; with a combative sneer, he leaned forward to put his drink down. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Why the hell do people always think that? C’mon, Finn, that is totally not how it goes down.”

“Oh please,” I egged him on. “Are you saying nothing ever happened?”

“Man… noooooo.” He looked off, middle distance, with a bemused expression and went on. “Ok, so I can’t say absolutely, positively nothing ever-ever-ever happened. I mean, guys are sexual creatures, and who knows what goes on behind closed doors. Ok, odds are someone was likely gay, and someone was likely curious. Or someone had a bad idea when drunk. But honest to God, it was just not part of the scene. That shit isn’t real.”

He tilted his head to the side for a second, and kept going. “I mean, there’s always some kind of sexual… something in the air. Guys are naked all the time. And guys were throwing their dicks onto a pizza for laughs, or sticking their bare asses in the faces of guys who fell asleep on the couch. But there was never… intent. It was only to be funny, or to be nasty, get a rise out of a guy, or to one-up each other. It was never about, well… actual sex. Maybe there was curiosity, but really… when you spend all that time together, you really do become brothers. It would just feel… off. I never did anything, and I don’t know of anyone who did.”

I nodded, considering. It was… strange. Maybe it was the booze, but I found myself… intensely curious about Nick’s narrative. In part, because I had never really had known anyone close enough to have a… well, nuts and Travesti antalya bolts conversation about guys getting it on. I mean, I had had gay co-workers, and even gay friends within my circle before, but no one close enough to really have a real conversation about all this.

And at the same time, I realized with a strange mixture of emotions that I had been particularly interested to know if Nick himself had had any experiences. I mean, I’d been curious about what it would be like going to town with a guy, but I’d never in a million years make a move. Nick was, I freely admit, the sexiest guy I knew. There was a particular voyeur interest if he’d ever made the plunge. Something inside me wished… that he had.

There was a pause, as I continued to nurse my feelings, and Nick continued to stare off. Something seemed to be tickling the back of his mind. Finally, he continued, in a lighter, musing tone. “You know, there was one guy who hung around the house every once in a while. I… think… I think he was the brother… no, the stepbrother of one of the guys. A year or two older. He… I think he liked me.”

My excitement flared again. “I’m sure about it stud… you’re the hottest guy I know!” I was ribbing him, but being perfectly honest. Although part of me winced that I sounded, you know… too eager.

“Stand down, Finn,” he fired back. “You’re the hot one. God, that summer we worked together, all the women were fighting to get on your shift, so they could sit around and drool. The rest of us never had a shot!”

I was so completely stunned by his out-of-the blue, off-the-cuff response, that I just sat there. Blinking. He thought… I was the hottest guy around…? What the…?

Nick went on, as if he had never dropped that bombshell in my lap. “No, this guy liked me, and even made a move on me. It wasn’t a bad one, either.” Nick smirked at the memory. “Good looking guy, but I wasn’t interested, not at all my type, and let him down easy. He then pivoted with barely a thought, and became my wingman. Whenever he was in town. He was… amazing, best wing man I ever had. If a gay guy ever offers to do that, you take him up on it.”

I laughed, and raised my glass to this long-past wingman, as I took a deep gulp. This conversation was… giving me a lot to think about.

Nick picked up his own drink and nursed it thoughtfully for a moment. “I’ve never really said this, but… aw, hell. Nevermind.”

“No, what…?” I pushed him, suddenly finding myself intensely curious about where this was going.

“Well…” He sighed lightly. “I guess it’s just that… well, I was curious. A little. Not much, and not enough to do anything about it. I’ve never done anything with a guy, but I think all guys… wonder.” I grunted in assent. “I think it was later where I realized that that was probably my only chance. I mean, I’d never have the balls to hit on a guy myself. But maybe it would have been… good. Maybe I’ve been missing something. Just… I’ve thought about it. Not of him… but what it would be like.”

That comment, so casually tossed off, ripped through my mind, bringing my whole being into focus. So, Nick was… curious about things. Well, at least he had been. My mind flashed as I realized in concrete terms that it wasn’t just me who had wondered. I mean… well, logically, I would assume that every guy did at some point in his life, but it was a very different thing to have my hot buddy openly admit to the specifics.

But there was more. As Nick’s story swirled in the back of my own mind, something I had not thought of in a very long time suddenly started bubbling up. “Well, as long as we’re being honest here…” I took another drink of liquid courage, and set my glass down before continuing. “It’s funny, but something like that happened to me back in college, too. I was good friends with a couple of guys who were roommates. I would swing by their dorm every now and again… and… this guy lived next door to them. They were all friends… you know, neighbors and all. And he was gay. Out and everything, totally gay. As it turned out, this neighbor and I were both in one of those big lecture classes. And… long story short, I… I found out he liked me. Like, liked me.”

“Hot guy like you, of course he did!”

Again, the comment caught me off guard. It was weird, as he was likely only busting my chops, but… for some reason I was distracted as I continued. “Well, yeah, I guess. So he had a thing for me. And there was no way I was going to take him up on it… I was trying to run down this other hottie, and I was like ‘hell no I’m not gay!’ But… whew. If I am perfectly honest, I wondered about him too. About… us. About what a couple of guys would do. But that kinda freaked me out. And he… kinda freaked me out. I… feel bad. It was my first time experiencing anything like this, and I think I overcompensated. Not that I started gay-bashing him or anything, but just kinda… ran away. And the thing is, even at the time I knew what a pussy I was being. I wasn’t going to catch ‘being gay’ from him… or anyone else. Over time, I calmed down, got a grip on myself and grew up. Certainly no problem with gay guys now. But… yeah. Looking back, I wonder if I missed my one-and-only chance. My golden opportunity to try something. And now it’s too late.”