Re: Deck chairs; sitting.
It was too philosophical to try to work out how much of Nobody was real. He was defined by the things he wasn't this evening, which meant all of this could be a load of crap. The possibility also existed that this was just the him beneath it all, unknown and unfamiliar, but no less real. But thinking wasn't really the goal here. Feeling and being was the goal, so leave all that heavy shit over with the wet socks and dry kicks.
Nobody was sorry for the reaction. He'd initiated, which he recognized. He could try to blame it on the other guy's staring and obvious interest, but Nobody knew that was something he was able to ignore. He'd chosen not to, because no one would ever look for him in a liplock with a strange guy. There wasn't enough beer in the world to make his vision blurry enough to mistake any guy for a girl. None of that. It had been deliberate, but he just wasn't expecting the tongue.
"Are we calling tongue improved experience?" he asked. His cheeks were flushed, and he shifted on his pointed shoes and continued to rub the back of his neck. "I don't talk like you. I just wasn't expecting the lick. Dumb, I get it." He felt dumb, which stopped just as soon as he realized he felt it. "It wasn't my thing. I wouldn't jump in the water and get soaked either. Look, I'm an asshole with no manners. There's the full disclosure," which put him back on track, and the nervousness that had been mounting disappeared as quickly as it had come.
To prove it, he closed the gap and, if he could, he clapped his hands on the sides of the other guy's head, and he kissed him hard, with tongue and completely committed to this shit. If he got it, it was quick, and was paired with a big step backward. "That's me." Tonight.