The Big Gay Weekend (Part 2)...

As we stepped inside, our host hugged James, and then myself.

"We go way back," he said casually, throwing on, "but how are you!? Haven't seen you in a while!"

I wasn't surprised at who opened the door...I knew a long time ago that James and our host were friends. He'd never really explained just how close they were, but it seemed that they were quite friendly (but no, not that friendly, you pervs...) Admittedly it was sort of intimidating knowing that our host for the evening was an acquaintance of mine that stretched back a couple years. Hell, I knew him before he came out, but I've never known him well.

I could tell he was a little surprised at the identity of the mysterious Steve that James was now seeing, but he shrugged it off. I'd love to be a fly on the wall after the fact, mind you.

As we stepped inside, James hugged each of his friends and did the introductions. I got a friendly handshake and hello from them all, and generally felt pretty at ease. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, chatting away rapidly with each other. The crowd was mixed; they were all roughly the same age, at at a distance they all looked somewhat similar, though close up you could tell each was a little different than the other. They all had a common denominator in my eyes: I'd probably gladly sleep with them all. They were all, in their way, quite good looking.

Since we had left my place in a hurry, I had forgot to bring a bottle of anything to drink. James had...a 4-pack of some variety of Smirnoff Ice. I shuddered as I drank the sugar-water, then glanced around to notice most of the other guests were drinking something similar. I laughed to myself, thinking how truly campy it was.

I also realized that most of the other guests were just that: a touch on the camp side. Not that there was anything wrong with it at all; they were all fun and cheerful, but I felt almost not gay enough. I mean, we're all homosexuals, but I just felt like I didn't have enough outward gay happening. I'm by no means the straight-jock-gay variety...but when placed in a room of slightly campy gay boys I was afraid I came across as just that.

During the next hour I had a few good conversations and got to know some of the guys a little. We talked about Pride week and what we took in school and the usual get-to-know-you conversations. I also chatted with the few girls who were in attendance, and found everyone to be generally good company.

James, being the lightweight that he is, was quite happy when he finished his second drink...while I was feeling positively nothing. Not in the best interest of the evening ahead, I though, though it would certainly help in keeping me from drinking entirely too much.

Someone sounded the alert and we all prepared to leave. As I was standing in the kitchen dropping off my empty bottle, I had a short conversation with a guy who had just arrived. He complimented me on my glasses and told me I had good taste, to which I complimented him on his really well done highlights. It was really funny to actually get to say such a thing out loud, and we talked about how he usually likes to have them done. It also gave me a little perk up; I wasn't falling flat on my ass, and it seemed that at least one of the boys didn't stop and ask who brought the ugly straight guy to the party.

We all piled into the elevator, James' arms wrapped drunkenly around my body. Someone not-so-subtly asked, "Oh, are they together?" as he moved in and wrapped us both in a hug.

The walk to the club was quick and loud, with everyone practically bouncing with energy. Thanks to some advance tickets, we bypassed the lineup and stepped inside. And there I was, past the threshold. Inside I gazed into a room dimly lit and full of boys. I may have swooned.

Our group had gotten a little split up as we tried to get inside, so James and I headed for the bar and bought an armful of drinks. It was at that moment I realized the interesting situation I was placed in. We were standing in line, with him in front of me and my arms wrapped around him. It was very calming to have someone to hold on to, someone who I was there with, that allowed me to hold him and that made me feel like I wasn't out of place and completely lost. It was also strange, because here I was surrounded with gay boys and had no chance whatsoever to slip into any of their arms.

In retrospect, it was probably for the best that I had someone that devoted their attention to me the entire night. Had I went in just as friends, I would have had to quickly tackle the whole flirt/nod/dance/kiss/etc with complete strangers, something I have no experience with and no idea how to do. But at different points of the night, I would still find myself thinking what it would be like to just go out and play with whomever.

The music throbbed as we danced on the spot, waiting to be served. Suddenly someone caught James' attention, and next thing I was shaking hands with a guy a few feet away, between patrons waiting for drinks. I retracted my hand, only to be introduced to another person, who rolled his eyes back, cocked his head and said something to the effect of, "Well I guess I'm not important to shake hands with." I offered it again, but he declined to shake. I then rolled my own eyes and realized I'd made my first bad impression/unfriendly connection with a bitchy queen.

With energy-drink-vodka-things in hand, we stepped back into the thick of the crowd...or what we thought was the thick of the crowd. One of the group came and took us by the shoulder saying, "This isn't the main room tonight...come with me."

We walked through a corridor, and into a room triple the size of the one we'd just been in, full of lights and fog and hundreds of dancing boys. It was as if the pearly gates had opened and we were presented with nirvana.

Immediately we all plunged into the crowd and music and started to dance. For the next five hours, we danced non stop. I danced mostly with James, but occasionally with one of the other guys or the girls in the group.

For the first time in my life, I danced with a freedom I'd never known. I moved and thrusted and waved like I've never done before, and I loved it. We laughed and grinded , as I watched the crowds around us do the exact same thing. Some were shirtless, others simply made out with each other. They were all mostly around our age, dancing, drinking and groping their way around the room. It was amazing. James and I danced, like everyone else, with enough sexual suggestion to frighten my grandmother to death (and probably my mother too), but it was fun to be able to. It all felt right, a verification of things that have been missing from my life so far.

I don't know when, but one of the girls accidentally knocked my glasses clear off my face. Thankfully I grabbed them as they slid down my chest, and I tucked them into my jeans pocket. Not having them on really didn't effect my vision in the dark and crowded room, and I felt less self-conscious with them off my face. I may not have taken off my shirt, but losing the glasses was liberating all the same.

There were some memorable fun moments, outside of the generally great time. At one point I noticed James making out with one of his friends, who then inched over to me and made out with me, who then pushed us all together and caused a three-way tounging. It was fucking hot.

There were also some moments that reminded me of the positive/negative of being there 'with' someone. While James was a few feet away, dancing with one of the girls, I kept noticing the guy to my left looking vaguely in my direction. He was cute, though not as cute as most of the other guys there. A large part of me wanted to shimmy my way over and start dancing, but I felt obligated to behave myself. We hadn't set out any rules about other guys, and I know it would have just been dancing/a kiss or two, all very innocent...but I still felt gentlemanly enough not to do it directly in front of my date for the night.

My most embarrassing moment came around three quarters of the way through the evening, when we were heading to grab a couple more drinks. James was leading me through the crowd by the hand, when I felt something underfoot. People had been dropping their empties everywhere, and I had just stood directly on one. It started to roll under my foot, and I went down like a ton of bricks onto the floor below. The people around us all looked over, and one yelled out, "Wow, someone better take him home, he's had way too much to drink!"

Being past midnight, and having had a couple drinks by now (though not enough to have caused the fall, thank you), and being mortally embarrassed by the fact I'd just fallen flat on my ass, I rose slowly, and using the gayest voice I could muster, and a fey limp wrist, I shot back, "Ohmigod, I think I've drank too much. Someone take me home?" I didn't wait around long enough to see if anyone laughed.

While I didn't feel drunk by the end of the night, I did feel exhilarated. It was such a great time, the energy of the crowd and the fun of the evening made me feel amazing. Even the next morning, I felt like things were blurry and fuzzy; the lights and the darkness and the dancing all made for a hypnotic effect.

Finally, the music wound down, and the crowd shuffled out. On the street we said our good nights, with a hug from each of the guys, and James and I headed back to my apartment. He wanted to walk back through the Village, so we did en route, to find it as packed as before. People spilled from clubs and bars, and the energy felt the same as before. And also like before, James grabbed for my hand as we made our way through the crowd. While I wasn't super-impressed, I didn't really mind at that point.

A girl staggered by us, smiling serenely. "You're beautiful," she said to me, "and you're beautiful," she said to James. "Happy Pride!"

We finally made it through my apartment door. As I switched on the light, James laughed. "Wow, your back is soaked!" he said, bemused.

I flipped on a light and looked in the mirror. "Eeeew," I said, seeing the dark patch at the base of my back. "That's gross. But doesn't everybody get like that?" I asked.

"Well, not everybody..." he replied.

Great, now I'm the only 21-year-old to sweat out half his body weight when he dances in a boiling hot club for the night. Come on, everyone must wind up this disgusting...right?...

"There's no way I'm sleeping like this," I said, "I'm gross. I've gotta shower."

"Me too," James said.

I went to my room, stripped, and stepped towards the bathroom door. My left hand clicked on the light, and I looked back over my shoulder to see James standing behind me.

"Well?" I said with a grin. "Coming?"