Saturday night well spent...

"So did you hold hands in the movie?" Nina asked, standing in my doorway.

I had just gotten home, and was all smiles, secretly dying to talk about my night.

"Oh shut up," I laughed, "what was I supposed to do, blow him in the theatre?"

My night had been what I think was a fairly successful first date. I managed to be funny enough to keep him laughing, flirty enough to keep up eye contact, and interested enough to put him at ease.

Not that there was anything no to be interested in with in Danny. Cute without trying hard, friendly, intelligent...that smile...

We met up at 6:30, me with butterflies in my chest. After all, first dates for me at this point in my life aren't just 'ah-fuck-it' fun, since I'm trying to present myself as semi-sane. But from the first moment, it was pretty easy. Conversation flowed. We laughed about school and work, even if we stood out as the only gay couple at this place (note to self, maybe have dinner dates closer to/in the Village).

After dinner, we opted for a movie, but had an hour to kill in between. I suggested Starbucks, and he agreed. But once we got there, I forgot the important question, "Do you drink coffee?"

"Oh, sure," he said, "but usually just Tim Hortons or something."

Does nobody in my life consume as much coffee as me, other than my classmates?

We talked some more, at one of those small-ish tables, and I tried to gauge his reaction to me. Our hands grazed on the table a few times, which left me wondering what he was thinking.

In the movie theatre, we choose the back corner to sit. Alright, I thought, this is cozy, and a little private. But as the movie rolled, nothing really happened. Of course, I don't know the dating rules and queues, so I sat there elbow-to-elbow with him. I was waiting for him to make some move, any move, and finally our knees connected. Hurray, elbow and knee connection. Why am I such a dork?

Eventually our hands touched, and he hovered a bit. Finally after a few moments of that we were holding hands. Then we were wrapped arm in arm, with him running his hand up and down my forearm. We stayed like that for the rest of the movie.

The lights came up and we sat there. I'll admit, for the breif moment I was a little hesitant to be seen so far from the Village holding a boy's hand, but I felt guilty afterwards. It shouldn't matter, and we didn't budge as the theatre cleared.

"So, ready to get out of here?" I asked, smiling at him.

"Uh, lets wait five minutes," he answered. OK, I'll admit, the first kiss in the movie theatre is smaltchzy, but I'm a sucker for that shit. And he's a good kisser, knows how to use his tongue. We got up and held hands all the way out to the street.

Neither of us wanted to go. I offered for him to come back downtown with me, but he broke the news he had work Sunday morning. We wound up in a little bar just down the road, sitting across from each other, holding hands. On the upside, I don't think anyone was pointing and staring, but again I felt that oh-my-god-I'm-holding-a-boy's-hand-in-public rush. But we never stopped, and I realized how very little I cared.

Finally, we were going to head our separate ways. But not before some good-night making out. We wandered for a while, but I found it's incredibly hard to find an unlit corner to kiss boys in. There was an alcove nearby which looked like it had no traffic, so we stopped there and our lips met. He's almost as tall as I am, so it was great height-ratio. It was getting pretty hot, hands grabbing my ass, lips trailing down my neck, hard-ons grinding into each other.

Then, all of a sudden, he pulled back. I wondered what was wrong for a second, then heard heels behind me. Apparently he's not crazy about making out with a boy in this much public. We went back to kissing, but street traffic magically picked up, so we had one last deep kiss and walked towards the subway.

About halfway down the path, he stopped me. "You know, I really don't want to go," he said, spinning me around and kissing me again. We walked five feet, kissed, walked five more feet, and were finally at the tracks. His train was waiting, and he jumped on. My train arrived, and we gazed out our widows at each other, not breaking eye contact until the tunnel wall was in our gaze.

All in all, a damn successful first date.