Almost In Love with Someone from a Hookup

        Alejandro stood at the same exact spot where he last saw Khristian, beside the highway illuminated by an old lamp post. He could hear the trees as if it’s whispering the very little memories Alejandro and Khristian shared once at that spot. He bit his lower lip. He couldn’t stand the twinge of pain in his chest. He felt stupid attaching himself to a person that is meant to be a one-night stand. 

        He remembered the first time they saw each other after making a deal that they will hook up on the day of the event at their university. The way Alejandro watched Khristian walk towards him from the crowd. Their eyes focused on each other, unaware of what was around–the loud music, the bright lights, the crowd, and their past traumas, especially Alejandro. They stood in front of one another for the first time with a smile. They both like each other. The way they complement each other’s features turned them on–Alejandro being this cute little fair guy with mahogany-colored hair, and bangs that make him look much younger and Christian with his olive skin, tall height, fit physique, and expressive eyes–a perfect match, they thought.

        Khristian touched Alejandro on his shoulder, implying he was ready to do what they are supposed to do later that night. Before that, Khristian requested if they could watch the concert before they go. Alejandro agreed. They proceeded to walk towards the sea of people. Besides the lagoon, with bright lights around them, they clapped, cheered, and sang like everybody else that night before they decided to go to a more private place. 

        They settled down in a dim, cold room in a nearby city. The way they looked at each other with smiling faces full of admiration for each other, full of energy, full of excitement–proves how they like and crave what’s going to happen. 

        They removed their clothes, exposing themselves. Their beautiful young bodies are on the opposite side of the male body spectrum. A body so feminine and vulnerable that it will attract heroes, and a body so masculine it will entice people. 

        On that old wooden bed surrounded by mirrors from every side, they shared a passionate kiss on top of each other’s warm bodies. For Alejandro, that wasn’t a hook-up, sex, or fucking, but lovemaking. With the way they held each other’s hands, the way they looked into each other’s eyes, the way their bodies moved with such smoothness and ease as if they’d known each other for a thousand years. The way Khristian kissed and licked Alejandro’s body as if his skin had honey on it; the way Khristian handled Alejandro’s body as if it was the most fragile thing ever; the way he smelled the young man’s hair as if it was made from flowers, all of it screamed passion, intimacy, and genuineness. It wasn’t a quickie, it was hours and hours of lovemaking. It was so intimate and long that they transferred each other’s smell to one another. That night, they were one. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Khristian said while pounding Alejandro hard. 

        The young man can’t say anything but reply with moans. He couldn’t speak. He’s occupied with the desire to satisfy Khristian, which he perceives as the epitome of young male beauty. Khristian’s sweat dripped all over Alejandro’s pale waif body. At that moment, he finally gave his entirety to this beautiful stranger. He touched Khristian’s broad chest. He wanted to absorb its sensual energy–its masculinity. 

        The way their reflection moved in the mirrors around, with a tint of red light, is immortalized in the room’s walls–an addition to the stories of countless people who graced that old room. If only the walls could speak, they would gasp at how these two young men played, admired, drooled, and loved each other's existence at that time. They were like gods of the beauty of both feminine and masculine energy playing with flames–a fire so intense it would break the other person’s heart for many years to come later on. 

        After a few hours, Alejandro and Khristian, lying in bed full of sweat and satisfaction, smiled at each other–a smile so sweet it captured Alejandro’s heart. They were touching each other’s hair and face. They could not get enough of what happened. It was intense and intimate. 

        Alejandro looked at Khristian while touching his cheeks. He realized how expressive his eyes are, how smooth his skin is, how perfect his teeth are, and how beautiful his lips are. He thought the young man was such a dream.

        Another hour has passed. They talked and talked about their lives, goals, traumas, and experiences. They were opening up to each other. 

They decided to take a bath and fix themselves. Then they left. 

        Beside a highway illuminated by an old lamp post, surrounded by trees, they shared laughs. Alejandro looked up to talk to Khristian, and Khristian looked down at the little guy so sweetly while listening to his stories. They were the only people there. No one was there to witness such a romantic moment. Alejandro felt the comfort he’s been looking for so long. Staring at Khristian’s face, he felt excitement; looking at his body, he felt safe; listening to his voice, he felt warmth. If only this man could see what he looked like in Alejandro’s eyes, he would weep. Alejandro sees Khristian as his hope, his comfort, and his security against this perilous, cold, selfish world–the same world that victimized and tortured Alejandro’s pure heart and genuine soul. He looked at Khristian with such admiration and genuineness that it felt almost like heaven on Earth. The young man’s smile and gaze alone are more romantic than any of his previous relationships and more intimate than any of his sexual encounters. This man is different from everyone, he thought. He’s kind, polite, romantic, and generous. There’s some sort of goodness coming out of his entirety; there’s some type of warmth from his presence alone. 

        A bus stopped in front of them. They shared an embrace once again before waving goodbye to each other. Alejandro looked at from the window beside his seat, oblivious that it would be the last time he would see the young man. 

        Alejandro with his carelessness almost outed Khristian in the entire university despite the fact that he already said he is discreet and wants to keep it that way. Khristian was scared and Alejandro’s too weak to reach out, admit his mistake, and apologize. 

Standing at the same spot, biting his lips with tears in his hazel eyes, Alejandro thought:

“Maybe if I kissed him better, he would’ve stayed.”

“Maybe if I looked at his eyes longer, he would’ve stayed.”

“Maybe if I held him tighter, he would’ve stayed.”

“Maybe if I was more patient, he would’ve stayed.”

“Maybe if I smiled and laughed more, he would’ve stayed.”

        He felt stupid. What happened already happened. Their shared memory is perfect as it is, but somehow, he hopes that if he changed something–just one thing–maybe things would’ve turned differently: a story with a much happier ending. 

        Beside that highway and with tears in his eyes, Alejandro guarded himself again. He promised to not be soft ever again. He will leave everything he feels about Khristian in this spot. With that promise for himself, he waved for a bus ready to face another phase of his life where he is much colder and detached. He then breathed a sigh of relief that at least it happened so fast that the pain is still bearable. Because if not, it will be harder for him, especially since he almost fell in love with someone from a hookup.