Miles made terrible coffee and would attempt to disguise this
fact by adding a pile of cinnamon to the equal parts of canned coffee
haphazardly slopped into the paper filters of his abused coffee maker. I hated it, it tasted like those burnt things
that stick to bread pans, but I have always possessed an affinity towards men
who make coffee for me and rarely refused his black charred liquid
garbage.
On mornings when he was especially tired and his roommates were awake, he would triple brew his coffee, which consisted of brewing a pot of coffee and then pouring the coffee batch into the water chamber of the coffee maker and brewing it a third time. The result was a muddy water whose body resembled the crema of freshly pulled espresso. “Tripple BREW!” he would scream while running through the frosted apartment handing us all cups of crap. “It’s snowing and there is triple brew!” Miles was always quick to wake up. I tried to teach him how to lay in bed for hours before actually getting up, telling stories that shaped us and making love to the sounds of his Chicago flat thawing and cracking and bowing in the winters morning sun; but 15 minutes of being next to me while conscious seemed to drive him into a state of wide eyed panic. So we usually just fucked and got dressed while the triple brew turned our blood thick.
Miles was fun to have sex with because he was so young. I was not that much older than him, I was 23 and he was 20 when we met, which meant he had three years less of fucking experience than I did, three years less of heart break than I did; and I fell in love with his malleability. I fucked him like a porn star, because he was too young to know how to make love. I don’t think young gay people know how to make love anymore, and I think it’s almost entirely due to the porn industry. From the age of 18 to about 22 I received more money shots than French kisses, had my backdoor opened more times than I had car doors opened for me, cracked open more legs than I did hearts and had foreplay lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to 3 minutes. I didn’t learn until age 23 how to make love and I didn’t learn until age 24, how to make love with a stranger.
But then I actually fell in love with Miles and naturally, dropped a Hiroshima bomb of insecurities onto that very fragile relationship. I sometimes look around me, when I’m sitting by the water and the Pacific winds chill my bones, and I can still see the rubble.
On mornings when he was especially tired and his roommates were awake, he would triple brew his coffee, which consisted of brewing a pot of coffee and then pouring the coffee batch into the water chamber of the coffee maker and brewing it a third time. The result was a muddy water whose body resembled the crema of freshly pulled espresso. “Tripple BREW!” he would scream while running through the frosted apartment handing us all cups of crap. “It’s snowing and there is triple brew!” Miles was always quick to wake up. I tried to teach him how to lay in bed for hours before actually getting up, telling stories that shaped us and making love to the sounds of his Chicago flat thawing and cracking and bowing in the winters morning sun; but 15 minutes of being next to me while conscious seemed to drive him into a state of wide eyed panic. So we usually just fucked and got dressed while the triple brew turned our blood thick.
Miles was fun to have sex with because he was so young. I was not that much older than him, I was 23 and he was 20 when we met, which meant he had three years less of fucking experience than I did, three years less of heart break than I did; and I fell in love with his malleability. I fucked him like a porn star, because he was too young to know how to make love. I don’t think young gay people know how to make love anymore, and I think it’s almost entirely due to the porn industry. From the age of 18 to about 22 I received more money shots than French kisses, had my backdoor opened more times than I had car doors opened for me, cracked open more legs than I did hearts and had foreplay lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to 3 minutes. I didn’t learn until age 23 how to make love and I didn’t learn until age 24, how to make love with a stranger.
But then I actually fell in love with Miles and naturally, dropped a Hiroshima bomb of insecurities onto that very fragile relationship. I sometimes look around me, when I’m sitting by the water and the Pacific winds chill my bones, and I can still see the rubble.
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