So, about two years ago, 2go was the reigning thing. If you hadn’t opened an account, you were dulling. Forget BBM. 2go was the favorite hookup site for many, from sex freaks to kitos (then). The Men’s Lounge was my favorite enclave. I came to know the actual meanings of some gay terms: TB – Top/Bottom. Kito – Set ups. (To be honest, what I always had in mind about the meaning of that one was a pair of stylish sandals.) And I also got to meet a few people from the site face-to-face; most of them unattractive, some others egocentric.
And then, there was the opener of the honey pot – the first love.
Let’s call him Kel. He’s about my age. Too cute, bitchy too. After chatting for a few days, we decided to meet. His place isn’t far at all (which I liked). Aish! I hate long distance visitations.
So, on that fateful day, I dressed way too casual, wasn’t feeling too sexy that day. As I made the trip to his place, we communicated through Whatsapp. Fifteen minutes later, I was at his bus-stop. No traffic. That’s one major reason to hate long distance visitations. Traffic! Lagos traffic can be disconcerting ehn. Kai.
Ok, so there I was, standing at his bus-stop (I hate), looking around to see if he was there. I waited, I waited. And just when I was about to lose it, he emerged. Chai. So fine, same height with me, inviting lips, mesmerizing almond-shaped brown eyes that seemed to say, “Ah, Kizito, welcome to the gayborhood.”
As we trekked to his house from the bus-stop, we made fun of each other’s features, teased, pushed each other playfully (Ah, such love nwantinti) until we got to the house. His sisters and his niece (who I’ll later discover is both nosy and worrisome, call her Lily :|) were all home. Guess who was too shy to even go in and say ‘hi’ – me!
So, he slid around back, waved me over, and I followed him sheepishly.
Oh, and she followed as well. Lily. Chai.
Kel: Oya, go back inside.
Lily: I shuu go inside?
Lily: Follow me.
Kel: No joor. Ok, go, I’m coming.
Lily: Ya coming? Ok. Come o.
Kel: Ehn, go. (Rolling eyes)
She left. We were alone now. I kept on smiling like one mumu. Damn! He was too fine, too attractive. And listening to him speak was like drinking ice cold water when walking under this Naija sun that gives you a hint as to what Hell is like. Kai. And no Ozone layer nau.
We didn’t speak. We communicated through Whatsapp. Imagine. No space between us, but we couldn’t speak. What would you call that one? Hmm.
I felt a lump in my throat, as I typed away on my phone.
Kel: I like you.
Me: I like you, too.
Kel: You’re cute.
Me: Stop whining me joor.
Kel: So when are you going to kiss me…
Me: Kiss you? Hmm…
And I turned to face him. He planted a swift kiss on my lips. I wasn’t sure what it tasted like. I felt heat suffuse my face in a black man’s version of a blush.
And then from behind came, “Kel, you have not come inside. My mummy is calling you.”
Ok o. So, he went to answer the call and was back in minutes. He stood me up on my feet and kissed me for longer now, I kissed him back. I was sure how he tasted now. Peppermint. I didn’t want to stop, but I had too. I wasn’t comfortable with the environment. Ha. What if…? Hmm. Ok, let’s stop. We stopped.
As the omo-get-inside that I am, I had to leave quickly. He accompanied me to the bus stop. When he got there, we idled a bit, feeling a bit awkward about saying our goodbyes.
Me: So, what’s gonna happen?
Kel: I dunno o. You’ve been sounding like one player since.
Me: I’m not a player o…
I waited a beat, before giving voice to something I badly needed an answer to.
Me: So, are we going to date?
Kel: Yes, ok, we are.
Just like that.
Just. Like. That.
Good morning, guys.
Written by Kizito