typed a little more on his computer and then it was done.
“Congratulations,” he said. “You are no longer a member of Hercules Gym.”
And that was that. Kirk left the gym feeling just a tad better than when he entered. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it would do. All he needed to do now was get through this hangover and avoid Lance for the rest of his life. If he did that then maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to put this terrible, tragic, mortifying experience behind him.
***
“I think you over reacted – I know you did!” Otis lay on the end of Kirk’s bed as he looked up at the ceiling. He kicked his bare feet in the air and waved his hand in front of his face.
“I didn’t.” Kirk lay curled up in bed, blankets pulled to his chin, face shoved into his pillow. “I reacted the way the situation dictated.”
“Like a dickhead?” Otis queried.
“Pretty much,” Kirk groaned. “What else would you have me do – I told you what happened!”
“Honey, if that’s all that happened then you should count yourself lucky. If I told you half the things I’ve done on dates – Oh boy, I’d never be able to show my face outside the apartment again!” Otis giggled at the memory.
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
It was the same day that Kirk had left Lance’s apartment, only it was now late into the afternoon. Since leaving Lance’s place and cancelling his gym membership, Kirk had managed to somehow find his way home, crawl into bed – still fully clothed—and hadn’t done much else. For hours he’d lain in bed feeling sorry for himself. And for hours he’d wished the day would just end already so he could start feeling better.
It was about an hour ago that Otis turned up. Personally, Kirk would have preferred Jessie. Jessie would have been there for him and agreed with everything he had done even if she thought it was stupid. She was a good friend in that way, and the perfect person to debrief with after a terrible night. But Jessie was busy, so he got Otis instead.
Otis had wanted all the gossip from the previous night so that he could laugh, insult and make fun. And, after much begging and taunting, Kirk relented. The story was told from the safety of his bed, of course, with Otis sitting on the end, giggling and cackling away as Kirk reencountered the night and all that had happened.
Surprisingly, Otis wasn’t nearly as shocked as Kirk had suspected. Nor was he as disgusted. In fact, Otis was actually excited for Kirk. Even after he told him about the vomit, and the next morning, and the gym cancellation. Otis, perpetually positive, was insistent that the night was a success.
“Really, child, you’re looking at this whole thing the wrong way.” Otis sat up, swung his legs onto the bed and crawled up to meet Kirk. He was wearing a leopard print dressing gown which could not have looked worse on him.
“And what way is that?” Kirk pulled the blankets further over himself and curled into an even tighter ball.
“This is all gravy, baby!” Otis mounted Kirk. “You do realize that Lance the super hunk, kissed you last night! You do realize that!”
“And then I threw up all over him.”
“Minor details, baby doll. Minor details.”
In a weird way, Otis was right. Lance had kissed him last night. At the time, Kirk had been too drunk to really think about it. And then he had been too hungover to reflect on the significance. But now that he was home, in bed, and feeling just a touch better, he was able to see what had happened the previous night in a clearer light.
It had been a mistake. A wonderful, transcendent mistake that wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon. And it wasn’t that Kirk didn’t want to kiss Lance again. Oh, god how much he did! But he just knew it wouldn’t happen. Men like Lance didn’t kiss men like Kirk. He had erred on account of the booze; Kirk had fucked up and that was that.
The only positive takeaway from the experience that Kirk could glean was that he wouldn’t have to worry about being rejected by Lance ever again. And that was just because he was going to avoid the man altogether. Easily done.
Otis hung around for a little while longer, jumping up and down on the bed, playing music as loud as he could, screeching along to said music,