Innocence

"Everything doesn't have to be perfect. It's okay to be clumsy and nervous. Hell, I wouldn't blame you if you were scared outta your damn mind! Most important of all, it's okay if nothing happens."

Those were the words my brother left me with before he hopped into his truck on the way to the airport. He and a couple of his childhood friends were getting together over the weekend to "reminisce", which is Latin for "drink until the walls get to wiggling". For two whole days, I would be Big Brother-free. Don't get me wrong. I love my brother, even if he is the biggest pain in the ass since long division. But it's nice to have the house completely to myself. Not that I intend to spend that time alone.

Not thirty seconds after learning of his plans, I asked if Chris could stay over. Chris Jericho – my best friend – and I have been on more-than-friendly terms for over three months now. For lack of a better term, he's my boyfriend. And we've done just about everything together, both in public as well as in private. Chris is sweet, possessive, and more than a little insane. Basically, he's everything a person could want in a mate. Yet despite all of our… explorations… there's still one bit of uncharted territory left. I'm hoping to remedy that this weekend.

Mark had been slow to respond to my request. No doubt, he could read my enthusiasm. It hadn't been easy for me to explain my relationship with Chris to him. Very rarely do Mark and I have deep and meaningful conversations. Our discussions typically adhere to sports, school, and whether we have enough toilet paper to last the week. So broaching the subject had been more uncomfortable than sitting through Mark's puberty lecture. Or, as it's commonly know, the "Just Remember to Lock the Door" speech. No amount of wishing will ever erase that moment from my mind.

Mark is not the most understanding person you could hope to find. He's loud, rude, and, at times, mildly psychotic. But somehow he knew about me and Chris. I'm willing to bet he knew how I felt about Chris before Chris did. In the end, I didn't have to explain a thing. Because Mark knew and was okay with it. Maybe there's hope for him joining the human race after all.

Reluctantly, I got the all-clear to have Chris over. It's sometimes hard to think of Mark as a parent and I realize that, deep down, he's only trying to look out for me. And I do love him for it. Not every day. That would be impossible, even for Mother Theresa. But I do try to show it and greatly appreciate him. There are certain things, however, that a guy just can't be protected from. It has to happen sooner or later. And I can't think of a better person to have that happen with than Chris.

As soon as we got the green light, I started making plans. When it would happen, where it would happen and, most definitely, approximately of how many times it could happen before one of us collapsed from exhaustion. I wasn't like I was mapping out an exact itinerary.

8PM: Watch Iron Man.
10:15: Make out with Chris on couch.
10:45: Move things upstairs to bedroom.
11:05: Have Chris naked.

No, I am not that kind of crazy. It's just that… Everyone remembers their First Time and I want everything to be perfect.

I guess my normally oblivious brother noticed how on edge I was getting as Friday night approached. Friday night is always Date Night for me and Chris. And this time around, my brother would be knee-deep in Happy Hour in another area code by the time the pizza arrived. For two and a half days I waffled between ordering a pizza and cooking up something special for the occasion. It wouldn't be anywhere near fine dining, but certainly I would get points for effort. I settled for the pizza because it would be just my luck if I burned the house down trying to impress a boy that gets teary-eyed when I buy him cheese fries.

Mark caught me staring at my closet like it was an AP Chemistry equation. Normally, I don't waste brain cells contemplating what to wear. As long as it fits, doesn't stink, and doesn't make me look like a complete fool, I'm good to go. There's nothing too complex about a rotating combination of shirts and jeans. Just to amuse myself, I could give the exact number of combinations possible in my wardrobe. But I wanted to look nice for Chris. I'm no slob, even on my bad days. I comb my hair and brush my teeth regularly. Chris has got the Clothes Gene. He doesn't follow fashion trends or sport the latest designer look. He probably thinks that Vera Wang is the ending to a dirty joke. Chris looks good in anything. Anything. Trash can, paper bag, potato sack. Anything. That boy can rock a t-shirt and jeans like nobody's business. Once, he bent over to retrieve the basketball in guy class and I had to excuse myself. It was incredibly hard to ask a teacher for the bathroom pass while trying to stave off an erection. That poor woman didn't know where to look.

My sudden interest in my appearance is what spawned Mark's incredibly rare brotherly moment. It was obvious how much this time alone with Chris meant to me and how important it was that everything was just right. I'd never said aloud my intentions, but he knew them. I could only be his little brother for so long. The key, according to his message, was not to over-thing things. Let everything flow naturally. Not of us being amateurs, there were bound to be bumps in the road. But if it was meant to be, then it would happen.

I suppose Mark's getting insightful in his old age.

The night continues in Hot… Coming soon… Stay tuned…