Scene Debut

Last weekend was the first time I ever went out on the 'scene'. Wasn't exactly planned. I was just going to go to something being held in town, some kind of sub-event run by the local Pride organizers. But I got there about 30 minutes before it was meant to end, and couldn't even find where it was supposed to be. I decided to just explore parts of the city I've never really been to much before, as to not make the trip a complete waste.

I actually stumbled across the 'straight friendly' club I mentioned here by chance. But it's a lot more of a club, techno/electronic music and neon lights and everything. It's not really the kind of place I'd choose to frequent. If there was a basically a quiet 'local pub' that just happened to be gay, that would be ideal. Then again, my favourite pub would be fine as long as you're not making a public spectacle (though I think that'd go for straight couples too; it's just not that kind of place).

After that, and the relative success I had visiting that gay men's group a few days earlier, I decided I would go to the other bar/club I wrote about before in the post above. I didn't stumble on this one, and had forgotten where it was supposed to be. I had to rely on my mobile phone's crappy internet and limited Google Maps app that constantly stopped working. In the end, it was chance that I ended up in the right area. I kind of delayed my entrance because I ended up talking to a drunk walking his dog. As you do.

But I did finally get through the door. And it was a lot smaller than I thought it would be. All the gay bars/clubs in this city seem pretty small, but it's apparently not a very big scene. More of a 'everyone knows everyone' kind. I was going to just have on drink, sit at the bar, then go home feeling accomplished. Except the bar was full. So I look my Guinness and looked out at all the occupied tables. I stool next to a small table near the bar, contemplating that this might not have been a great idea, when I realised there was someone calling in my direction.

"It's a bear!"

At first I wasn't quite sure if it was directed at me. I just smiled shyly and looked down. Eventually I was called over to their table. So much for worrying about no one speaking to me. The 'leader' of the group, L.D., was the one who had done all the calling. And did a lot of the talking. I don't normally, nor intend to, reveal what these initials I use mean. But in this case, 'L' is for 'loud'. He had already had a few drinks by the time I showed up, but unless he's quieter when sober he isn't really the kind of person I'd spend a lot of time with. There were five others there, when they could get a word in. The rest seemed like a nice lot, though. By the time I had finished my drink, I had ended up getting my hands felt (very soft, apparently), showing the hair on my legs and chest, and invited to a different club I had walked past hundreds of times without realising it was a gay club. Two of the group weren't going, leaving just four heading there. And me.

Cue the slightly awkward taxi ride where I was asked if I had ever had 'bum sex' by the loud one.

This second club was like being in someone's living room, if they had a pool table, DJ booth, nightclub lighting, bar and about two dozen drunk men in it. Not what I was expecting. I was right before with my worries about the volume level. But I met a lot of new people, even if just briefly, and it wasn't as awkward or anxiety-provoking as I had secretly thought.

Two of the group were P&D, a couple. I spent the better part of the night talking to D. When I drink, I tend to start touching people more than I do sober. And I have to admit, I was pushing it a bit with D. I admit, I think I liked him the most out of the group so far. I had to lean in to even hear him over the music, and I started just brushing my hand against his leg. Thought I'd take advantage of being somewhere I was sure the stranger I'm talking to was gay. Then giving him a hug just to get that out of the way, and I just like hugs, I guess. Then I end up invited to go back to their place to have sex.

I was actually worried at a point that I might never have another threesome. Then here I am, first night out at a gay club with no intention of hooking up, and I'm getting taken home by two guys. That's either a testament to some hidden charm I have or more proof that men are just really easy lays (at least while you're still in your twenties).

***

There was talk of having something to eat first, but that ended up getting forgotten in favour of getting right down to it. I don't usually have sex drunk, but when I have had a drink I don't seem to worry about how I'm looking as much. But I also don't really feel quite in my right mind. I wasn't really sure what roles were going to be played, and I was wary of getting fucked. But wasn't in the best state to be saying no. The lesson I'm taking from this is don't drink too much if there is any chance of sex involved, if for no other reason than being able to perform better.

I was making out with D as he was on his back, with P kind of switching between rimming him and me. I really, really wish I had gotten more of a chance to make sure of I was clean enough for all that. Delightful side-effects of the PEP meds. But I was expecting to at most have a chat to someone at a bar tonight, this was so far from my plans I didn't prepare with such scrutiny. I kind of too his sudden dash to the bathroom then focusing on rimming D as the unfortunate answer to that question, but I was relieved, to be honest.

At this point, D was still on his back but now with P's dick in his mouth, and I was in between D's legs fingering him with P leaning over. This is where things go downhill. P starts saying something in a rather breathless voice. I didn't catch it all but it involved 'fuck him' and 'a condom'. The crucial part missing there was is that 'with a condom' or 'without' one? In my head, I was starting to curse my luck. I have possibly gotten myself into another of these situations, while still dealing with the last. P had talked about going to Manchester the following week, and while this city and its little scene might be considered 'low risk of HIV' Manchester is a different story. I was praying that he has said 'with' but didn't form a coherent response. He then left the room again, D calling after him. Said he seemed upset. When he returned and flopped him at the foot of the bed faced down, that 'seemed' became a lot more certain. I had no idea what was going on, and was soon back in my clothes and in a car heading home.

D explained on the way what the issue was. Apparently, P had thought I was planning on fucking D without a condom. For lack of a better word right now, P&D play a sort of 'game' with one another. If they bring another guy home, P sometimes basically leaves the burden of protection to D. Sees how long D will let things escalate before saying to use a condom. Sees if he will say it at all, because he thinks D wants it without. P has medical conditions that would be complicated by having HIV, whereas he thinks D will get by better with it. They have slipped up with it in the past, even P doing it himself. I tried to reassure D that I had absolutely no plans to be barebacking him tonight. But it's something they have to really sort out themselves. D kind of hinted at being tired of it.

The more I deal with other people, the less I understand them. I didn't even think that was possible.

The next day I got a text message from D. They had sorted out their issue, and wanted to know if I would go for a drink sometime and maybe pick things up where we left off. I said yeah. Hopefully with a clearer head and no ambiguity, and if necessary more of a backbone to stand up and say no.