Seven Thousand Minutes (pt 1)

“Dennis and…” John groped around in the hat for an unnecessarily long time, and then pulled out the second piece of paper with a flourish. Unfolding it, he was about to say the name of the lucky lady who was about to spend seven minutes in Dennis heaven…

And then he burst out laughing. “Martin!” he hooted, waving it around for everyone to see. The room erupted in drunken cheers, and Dennis joined in. Martin was looking wide-eyed and awkward, but that wasn’t unusual. The guy seemed intent on going through life inviting criticism and derision with a gauche kind of stoicism.

“Okay then,” Dennis smiled and stood up – a little uncertainly, but not clumsily enough to look like an idiot. Martin didn’t move a muscle. “Come on, be a good sport,” Dennis cajoled. “I promise I won’t go past second base.”

That earned him another round of guffaws. Martin looked up at him with an inscrutable expression on his face – almost as if he was sad. But Dennis kept holding his hand out until Martin’s hand came up to meet it. His slim fingers crept into Dennis’s palm like a kitten begging for a petting. Dennis closed his hand on them, pulling Martin up in a single, smooth motion. Martin staggered a little and ended up with his nose almost touching Dennis’s.

“Hey, don’t sneak extra minutes!” someone hollered, whipping up new giggles.

Dennis slipped an arm around Martin’s waist and then mimed a mock ass-grab. Anything for his audience. Anything to keep the mood light and fun. But when he looked at Martin, something tugged at his ribs. He seemed so small. As if he was trying to creep inside his own skin and hide.

“Come on,” Dennis said again and pulled at Martin’s hand. He could feel the reluctance in the way that hand lay too stiffly in his, but there was no hesitation in Martin’s feet. Murmurs of laughter followed them all the way to the closet. When he’d closed the door behind them, Dennis let go of Martin’s hand and switched on the light. Martin blinked a little in the glare. “Sorry, man. I just thought, you know…”

“No sweat,” Martin replied quickly. “I get the joke.”

Said with the most somber face in the history of mankind. Dennis couldn’t help cracking up. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Seven minutes and counting!” John shouted just outside the door and banged on it. In the background, the other guests sniggered. “And turn off the light, you’re killing the mood,” John added in a saccharine voice.

Shrugging, Dennis obeyed. “Or else he’ll never stop,” he explained to the darkness. He thought he could hear Martin exhale.

“Six minutes and fifty seconds,” John informed them.

“Shut up and go away,” Dennis barked.

“Ooh,” John cooed as he walked back to the others. “Lovebird is getting possessive.”

“Don’t mind them,” Dennis said. “You know what they’re like.”

Martin didn’t reply.

“What’s the matter, Martin? Disappointed that we’re not making out?” Dennis giggled. “I’ll feel you up if you want.”

He took a step forward and caught Martin in his arms. He turned rigid, but didn’t fight Dennis’s hand as it crept down his thigh in a parody of seduction. Martin’s breath came in tiny starts against Dennis’s ear, and something in the sound felt strangely intimate. Heart twisting a little in his chest, Dennis launched into full goof mode. “Yeah baby,” he whispered into Martin’s hair. “Ooh, you feel so good.”

There was a weird sound in Martin’s throat, almost like a sob. But he still wasn’t resisting the joke. To be fair, he wasn’t playing along either. He was just sort of standing there, straight as a rod, letting Dennis enact his little farce without saying anything.

“Come on, Martin,” Dennis smiled into his neck. “It’s your seven minutes of heaven – maybe the only ones you’ll get tonight!” He regretted the words as soon as they hit the air. Martin turned as fragile as glass, and he started pulling away, but Dennis caught his arm. “Shit, Martin, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean that.”

“No, you’re right,” Martin whispered. “I should enjoy it while it lasts.”

And with that, he grabbed hold of Dennis’s chin. Dennis didn’t understand what was happening until his back gently hit the wall and something covered his mouth. Breath hitching, he felt the tip of Martin’s tongue brush his lips. He thought he was about to turn his head away and laugh it off, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, his mouth fell open, and Martin’s tongue pushed all the way in.

It only lasted for a few seconds. Then Martin drew back and a cold string of saliva snapped between them, landing on Dennis’s chin. “Was that what you wanted?” Martin asked low in his throat. And then the door opened on a slash of light and Martin slipped out of the closet and into the cheers and applause of the rest of the party.

To be continued…