Page 8 of Free Fall
Sejin huffs out a strangled-sounding laugh. “Shit, sorry, I’m so bad at this sometimes. Out of practice, I guess. Small towns are hard to get laid in, yeah?”
“Sadly.”
Then hedoeslaugh, a real one, and it’s like little bells ringing up my spine. I nearly shudder from the delight it evokes in me, and that’s super weird. I’m not used to liking anything about a person before I get to know them, much lesstwowhole things. But Sejin’s smile and laugh are pretty special, and even I have to admit that.
“It’s just…all right, so like… how I look—” He gestures at his face and then down his body. “Some guys are into…aw, hell, it’snot like I even care. I only brought it up because I thought you were making fun of how I said my name, but now I think I’m just making it awkward. You just want to fuck, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I agree, but now he’s got me curious. “But, uh, what are some guys into? I mean, maybe Iaminto it, and I just don’t know? I don’t want to cross any boundaries with you. I like to keep things neat. Consensual. I’m not into kink during a first hookup, but…”
Sejin flushes and runs a hand through his thick, long, black hair, and I wonder if it’s going to feel as smooth as it looks. “I’m not averse to a little kink with the right partner, but yeah, not on a first hookup,” he agrees. “And, uh, I just meant some guys think there’s going to be something special about fucking me because I’m…” He gestures at his face again.
I blink. “Because you’re so pretty?” I’m baffled and really don’t know what he’s talking about.
He laughs again and, damn, I like it so much. “No, because I was born in Korea,” he says finally. “Some guys think Asian men are different in bed…”
He clears his throat, clearly embarrassed, especially because this is a conversation he’s brought on himself. I get it. I do dumb stuff like this all the time too. “We’re not. I’m not.”
“Why would you be? You’re a human being.” I’m so confused, but I remember a guy I met at Trillium Lake Crag telling me that women expected certain things from him in bed because he’s Black, and when I was puzzled by that, he said that was my privilege showing. I guess Sejin, as an Asian man, deals with similar things, and since I’m just learning about it, I’m still privileged. White men always are, or so the Trillium Lake guy had said, and I’m obliged to agree because I don’t know anything about being non-white.
“I’m sorry. This got so awkward,” Sejin says, and now his smile is shy. “Can we start over?”
“Sure.”
“Hi,” he says, stepping closer this time and putting his hand out first. “I’m Sejin.”
“I’m Dan,” I answer, taking his hand and noting the cool, dry length of his fingers against mine. “Want to fuck?”
“I’d love to,” he murmurs, and we kick off our sandals as I lead him inside.
*
Sejin
I have toduck my head to trail Dan into the decently-lit van. I’m glad there are plenty of lights so it doesn’t feel quite as much like a bad idea to be getting all naked and vulnerable with a stranger.
Well, I hope we get naked and vulnerable. Some guys like a quick jerk-the-pants-down-and-go-at-it fuck, but I’m hoping for a little bit more than that to keep me sated for the next inevitable dry spell. Why did I move to Mariposa County again? Oh yeah, adventure! Escape! To live near my cousin. And be someplace new.
I never intended to stay here, though, but here I still am.
Currently, “here” is some kind of custom van that’s actually tall enough for me to stand upright in, and that’s saying something because I’m a slender six feet. My narrow hips and delicate bone structure make everyone treat me like I’m small despite my height, but I’m a good three inches taller than Dan, who looks to be around five-nine, at most. He’s slender too, but in a different way from me. Every bit of him looks made of tightly-corded muscle, even his hands, which are firm on mine as he gazes up at me.
I take in the set-up of the van. His bed is tucked sideways on an elevated platform in the back with a TV screen bolted intothe van-wall above it. It looks cozy with folded layers of quilts laid over smooth, clean-looking sheets. It’s on top of storage containers, making it taller than usual, the mattress at waist-height for me.
When he’d said to meet him at his van, I’d imagined a dingy mattress on the floor, and while that should have scared me off, I’m just a big enough fan of risk to have thought it was likely worth it for a good fuck. Though not all fucksaregood, and there’s no telling if this one will be yet, I’m hopeful.
Along the wall of the van, opposite the sliding door, there’s a wooden counter with a stove built in and all kinds of things tied onto it. Above the counter, there are cabinets with locks, and to the right is a blue fabric curtain that blocks off the front of the vehicle where the driver’s and passenger’s seats are. All in all, it’s like the littlest tiny house ever, and a mobile one at that. I can’t imagine living here, but at the same time, it doesn’t seem too awful either. At least it doesn’t smell bad. I wonder where he poops. Taking a piss is easy enough, but…
Dan’s hands are calloused and rough on mine, and a sizzle of electricity seems to burn my skin where he touches me. Chemistry. There’s no guarantee of it in a hookup, and no accounting for it either. I’ve felt it with a handful of men, and a few of them were…well, not the kind of guys I’d want to spend much time with. But all of them were heavenly fucks. In fact, one made me come without even touching myself, and that’s an experience I’d love to have again.
But after the three long, sexless months I’ve had, just a cock up my ass and a shared orgasm seems like more than enough.
“There’s a shower block and bathroom about a hundred yards from here,” Dan says, letting go of my hand and shoving both of his into the loose pockets of his sweats. “I can show you the way if there’s anything you need to take care of before we—”
“I’m good,” I say, shaking my hair behind my shoulders, and taking a deep breath. “I handled everything before I arrived.”
“I’ve got lube and condoms,” he says, indicating the box and bottle by the bed. “Is there anything else you need before we get to it?”
His dark, hazel eyes are big, and wide-set over a straight nose, set into a thin face. His brown, curly hair is unkempt, but not overlong. It looks like he cuts it himself, what with his jacked-up bangs and the unfashionable shape, but he’s still a handsome guy. His lips are well-made and not at all chapped, which surprises me since most of the climbers I’ve met—and living in Mariposa County, I’ve met a lot—have chapped lips from all the wind on the walls. His jaw is sharply cut with a dimpled chin that somehow, when combined with his ample mouth, almost makes him look like he’s pouting.