Page 22

Mathéo

I’m kissing Micki. I’m kissing a man. I was so sure it would feel different, or weird. I was so scared. Scared that my body would find repulsive what my heart craved so badly. But instead, it feels like coming home.

That one moment when our lips touch, everything in my head falls into place, and all my fears and doubts are gone. Micki looks at me with wide eyes, uncertainty and vulnerability in his gaze, waiting for the moment I push him away, not even touching me.

I can’t get enough. With hundreds of little kisses, I take what I want, what I need so much, playing with his lower lip, which is a little fuller than his upper one. And Micki lets me, with a soft whimper.

I’ve kissed countless women, but never a man until today. But all those kisses meant nothing. This one with Micki is the best kiss of my life, because it’s the first time a kiss really means something to me. The first kiss I really want, with everything I have and am.

“What are you doing to me?” My words touch his lips in a soft whisper.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Micki’s voice trembles. “Was that ... okay for you?” The fear of being rejected is so palpable in his voice.

“The best kiss of my life.” With these words, I grab his hands and wrap them around my neck. Micki is so tall that he doesn’t even have to stretch, and I love it. My hands find his hips and I pull him so close that we’re touching everywhere. I can’t get enough, and my lips seek his again, his closeness, his warmth. My eyes close and I can just see that Micki’s eyes are slowly doing the same.

Time stands still around us, and I don’t know how long we stand like this, still in the middle of the dance floor, until someone bumps into us saying something in German. If I’m interpreting the tone of voice correctly, it sound more like he’s verbally attacking us. Micki’s reply sounds venomous, but the guy doesn’t stop. I don’t understand a word he’s saying, but he continues loudly, pulling at Micki’s clothes and grabbing his ass.

“You don’t touch what’s mine.” My English words are calm but firm, and I position myself between Micki and the asshole, on the verge of freaking out.

The guy starts laughing and keeps talking in German so I can’t understand him. He makes a huge scene, pointing his finger at us and making a face like he’s disgusted. A circle forms around us as the other people are no longer dancing, they’re watching. Micki shouts something back from behind my back, but the guy just laughs. Where’s security when you need them?

Everyone around me can understand what he’s saying. Their looks are mostly shocked. Suddenly I understand something from his mouth, as he starts to speak English with a heavy accent. “Your pretty little girl here say you know what game she play. She say you know what you do.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I’m not here with a girl.” I feel Micki’s hand on my hip and his head between my shoulder blades. The guy laughs at first, then suddenly gets loud. I think he’s insulting us, badly. Micki lets go of me, moves around me and is in his face in three quick steps but doesn’t touch him. His words are calm and challenging. Only now do I realize that the music is off, but there’s still no sign of the security.

I hear voices from the crowd and see the bouncers as Micki gets a strong push and flies in my direction. Then everything happens very quickly. The guys from security grab the asshole, one of them speaks to us, but Micki shakes his hands defensively. I urgently need to learn German.

“What was that?” I ask when things calm down.

“A homophobic asshole.” Micki’s voice is trembling slightly, but more in anger than in fear.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Yes, he’s definitely angry.

“Does that happen to you a lot?”

Micki snorts and laughs sarcastically. “Look at me, of course it happens to me a lot. I’m a man in high heels and women’s clothes. Not everyone likes that.”

I never had to worry about anything like that, I always went with the flow. Sure, I got my ass kicked once or twice because I stole someone’s girl or something, but it wasn’t about me as a person, not about who I am, not about my identity.

“You should get used to it when we’re tog... when we’re out together.” Micki’s voice is uncertain, and he looks away. The music is loud again, and we have to shout at each other to make ourselves understood. Still, he keeps his distance from me when he speaks. It feels like he’s purposely keeping me at a distance and I don’t like it. I carefully take hold of his hip, gently pulling Micki towards me. He follows without resistance but still doesn’t look at me.

“Let’s go,” I shout into Micki’s ear, feeling like I’d have preferred to whisper. With a nod, he makes his way through the crowd, and I follow suit. We collect our jackets from the checkroom and are out on the street a short time later.

“I’m sorry, I mean it. I wish you hadn’t witnessed that.” Micki’s gaze is fixed on the ground in front of his damn high, high heels.

“That wasn’t your fault. What’s wrong?” We’re still standing outside the club, but I need an answer. “Look at me please. Did I do something wrong?”