Sex and the Unsexy City - The Three

Singaporeans has always assumed that they live in a conservative country, modern yet out of touch of modern values and ethics. Naturally Singaporeans do not generally talk about sex. But the truth is, every young twenty and thirty somethings (and even the forty and fifty somethings) are having sex. And they have sex quite regularly. The fact is, we live in a society that hides under a blanket of conservatism while our actions are quite liberal. Singaporean loves sex. It's just not okay to publicly admit it.

Ever since he was hired a designer at a leading studio who works with big name clients, he was found almost everywhere. Cooperate identity launch parties, industry luncheon, design forums and whatever excuse to party, he will be there. Suffice to say, Wan has never required to ever again queue up to go anywhere. Of course, it was at one of these parties that he first met V.

On the rooftop of Odeon towers, the chic new trendy bar, The Loof, was transformed into a wonderland of pink and black. Black carpeted swirling stairs with pink draped handles leading to French doors. It was all so Victorian, with a color splash of modernity. And this was Wan's idea for the look of the newly founded law firm his studio was working with. The co-founder and principal partner, Mr Wang insisted that the firm be called Wang and Wang, even though the other partners had different surnames. Wan didn't approve, but he also didn't care. Even with such a tragic name, his designs for the firm's identity would be strong enough to be different. No other law firm in Singapore, let alone Asia would dare to use black and bold pink as their primary color. But that's what you get when you work with Wan. Rules are broken, and you get the unexpected.

As everyone was congratulating Wan for his designs, he was suddenly caught in his gaze. He was standing there, against the railing, lighted cigarette in one hand and the other a martini glass with half chewed olives on a stick. He was looking at particularly no where, but for some reason, or maybe it was all the alcohol, Wan truly believed that he was looking at him. Wan grabbed Anne, a friend who he hooked up to work at the new firm, to a corner.

'Who.. is.. that..?' Wan asked, almost unable to breathe.

'Darling. Breathe.' Anne replied. 'He is a lawyer at the firm. Not a partner yet, but important enough to be invited.'

'I don't care if he's a partner or a fucking janitor at Wang and Wang. He's hot!' Wan rebutted. 'Is he gay?' he asked, almost hopeful.

'Does it really matter?' Anne laughed. 'Okay okay. I don't really know if he's gay, but he's 32, single and never married. If that's not a red alert for homo, I don't know what is.'

'You got to hook us up! I am desperate Anne! He is fucking hot and I think he was looking at me.'

'I don't know Wan. I just started here. And it will be awkward.'

'Hey. I practically gave you this job. Now you got to return me the favor.'

Anne gave Wan a slight dirty look, jabbed him in the chest and then smiled. 'Fine' Anne replied. 'And if you do get to fuck him, give me the video as a thank you gift.'

--

'So you are the one responsible for making me carry hot pink name cards?' V said, extending his hand towards Wan. Wan shook it, and felt a little tingle. How could a gay's man handshake be so firm. Maybe its a lawyer thing, he thought.

'Well, you should be so lucky. Pink is really your color.' Wan replied, smiling ever so boldly. V suddenly pulled Wan's hands, tugging his body towards him. He pressed his mouth to Wan's left ear and whispered.

'I don't really date and I think you are cute.'

A million things was rushing through Wan's head. How do one respond to such a comment? What does it all really mean? He doesn't date? So what does he do? Wan thought. Does it all really come down to just sex? Is dating in the gay world dead? He has to say something. Something smart. Something a smart twenty plus year old designer would say.

'Get off me!' Wan pushed V away. 'People are watching.' As soon as he finished that sentence, Wan turned around, grimaced and gave himself a mental slap. He don't care people were watching. All that matter was V was fucking hot (cliché I know, but that was the only way Wan would describe V).

'Hey. Hey.' V called Wan back. 'I do really think you are hot.' As V continued talking, Wan was busy exploring every inch of V's face. His skin was almost flawless, except for a few blemishes around the eyes you get from too much sun-tanning. His neck looked so young. It was the kind of neck that looked so soft. It was impossible those belong to a thirty year old. And that body. It was lean, with enough muscles showing through the shirt to entice. His hands was in his pockets, creating a tension around that nice buttocks. Wan was smitten. He had to fuck him.

'So I really think you should come back to my apartment. It's just around the corner.'

'I don't think that's a good idea.' Wan said, once again grimacing. Why was he saying all this things that's he was not suppose to say. 'I have to work tomorrow.'

'Same here.' V replied, smiling with those eyes. Wan was once again caught in those dreamy gaze. He got to say it. He had to go to his apartment, Wan thought. Suddenly he was reduced from a star designer of the night, to a mere teenage boy with a high libido.

'Perfect.' Wan replied smiling, doing a slight toast with his champaign flute.

--

It was dark, raining and cold. It was those kind of nights where you snuggle up with your love ones, whispering sweet nothings to each other, drink hot milk and watch bad television show reruns. At precisely this moment, it was one of those nights, and Zat was alone, in Starbucks no less. When they said that coffeehouses were the best place to meet other people, they were lying. How can you meet other people, when all other people are with other people, Zat thought. He shruged off the feeling, dug into a huge piece of cheesecake and munched on it real slowly.

Zat's last relationship didn't end that badly. It was one of those relationships where the magic just stops. One of them just decided that it was not working anymore, and the other just did not bother fighting for it. Zat missed him terribly of course, but he also believed he had moved on. He only wished moving on means moving on to another guy. That's problematic part it seems. Zat had trouble finding new guys to date. And he seems to believe that's because he's not exactly the type of gay guy other gay guys are going for.

'I'm too fat Wan. I'm too fat and no one loves a fat person!' Zat suddenly confessed one day, in the changing room of Topman while Wan was trying on some jeans, he himself seems to have trouble fitting into. Wan was shaken, both by the fact that he can no longer fit into a size 30, and Zat's sudden development of an inferiority complex. You see, Zat was the confident one among the three. Even though he's not exactly the thin type – in fact he's quite chunky in certain places, he has this vivacious personality coupled with that indestructible confidence. Zat exude an aura of awesomeness. Almost like a superhero. He just don't look like one.

'Honey. You don't say such things while I am trying on jeans –'

'I'm serious!' Zat cut in. 'It's been a freaking year! I am still single and horny. What's is wrong with me?'

'Nothing is wrong with you.' Wan replied, rolling jeans off his legs he attempted to fit on. 'Just that maybe you could be quite threatening.' Wan added. He really wanted to suggest a gym membership to him, and try to get some sort of exercise routine into his life, but he held back, and tried to be a good friend.

'Threatening? How can I be threatening? I'm a musician! I'm a fucking musician and could not even get a date. A single date. Is that too much to ask for Wan? Am I really that fat?' Zat asked. His face had this serious look like he was expecting a serious answer.

'You really want me to answer that?' Wan looked back pleadingly.

'Yes.' Zat nodded, crossing his arms.

'Well maybe you could lose a small couple of kilos?' Wan suggested.

Zat rolled his eyes in response.

'Urgh. Sometimes I think this gay thing is just so fucked up.'

--

While Zat was contemplating his singlehood, over a cuppa, Hahn's lips was all over Benjamin's nipples. It was the perfect setting for a hot steamy sex session. His place was free, new sheets for the queen size bed and candles everywhere. The setting was perfect, unfortunately the sex was not as hot or steamy as Hahn would expect.

'You.. are.. soft..' Hahn whispered, in between licking, sucking and whatever it is you can do with a soft penis.

'Yeah..' Benjamin replied casually, shrugging his seventeen year old broad shoulders.

Hahn was disturbed. He has had few sex partners, but never has anyone gone soft on him. It was as if, his 'talents' were not appreciated. And he would never expect a seventeen year old, an age of one's sexual prime to be soft in the middle of sex.

'Is there a problem B? Am I doing something wrong?' Hahn asked, genuinely concerned.

'No. You are great, Baby.' Benjamin replied, caressing Hahn's hair and face.' This... happens sometimes.'

Hahn was visibly shaken. Suddenly Wan words - 'If he ain't good in bed, what makes you think he can be good at anything else' comes in mind. If Wan's words were true, this is the part where Hahn would pack, and leave Benjamin high and dry. Well dry and not too high anyway. But Hahn being a sweet homosexual that he is, refused to allow something as mundane as a limp dick to stand in his way of a blissful and great relationship.

'Do you have a problem B?' Hahn asked almost cautiously not wanting to break his fragile teenage ego.

'NO!' Benjamin replied almost uncharacteristically. 'I'm just not in the mood.'

--

It was Wan's dream apartment. The flooring is white marble. The wall is grey with a subtle tinge of beige and sunny yellow. It's the kind of walls that would reflect light really well, Wan thought. The whole minimal look of the apartment, was further accentuated with the bold and strong lines of the furniture.

'Impressed?' V asked as he reached into the cabinets for a bottle of red wine. 'I like clean designs. Minimal. Function over form. You know...'

'I do..' Wan agreed. 'You apartment is really impressive.' Wan was visibly awed. He was practically twirling and spinning around trying to absorb every detail of the apartment. 'Is that sofa a Norbert? Oh my god. It is!' he screamed excitedly as he sat on it, feeling the sofa velvet textured and abstract contours.

'Let me give you a tour of the apartment.' V invited, handing Wan a glass of red wine. He extended his hand, and Wan casually held it, like it was the most natural thing to do. V led Wan slowly to the second living room. It was not big, but it was not contrived either. Wan noticed that the paintings on the walls were all produced pieces. Nothing chosen, or handpicked from a gallery. It was hung merely for its aesthetic values. Wan always hated art hung just for the sake of beauty, but tonight was not the right night to get into a debate about the theoretical value of high arts.

Wan smiled at V. 'I fucking love this place.'

Suddenly V's head darted forward, and ambushed him, closing his mouth down on Wan's. Still holding a glass of wine on one hand, he pulled Wan closer with the other. Wan willingly curved his body into V's, thinking that his soft sweet lips were like a juicy fruit, a mango perhaps. His hard body however, provided an irresistible contrast. The kiss lasted for what felt like several minutes, but in truth it probably lasted only a few seconds. Wan then began to feel overwhelmed, like he couldn't breathe. He put his hand on V's chest and pushed him away.

'Hey, its okay if you don't want to do this,' V said, confused and quickly buttoning up his shirt. 'I could just call you a cab and -'

'No.' Wan cut in, placing his hand on V's luscious lips. 'I want to.'

'Okay.' V grinned, flashing all his white teeth, like a little boy who just discovered a new toy. 'Let's do it slowly this time.' He placed his hands on Wan's butt, pulled him nearer and knelt down to crotch level. Wan pushed back his head with a groan of pleasure. At this moment Wan felt like the luckiest person alive. A hot lawyer was on his knees, giving him the blowjob of his life. He doesn't care if he was not going to see V again after this. He doesn't care if this was just a mere one night stand. He was going to enjoy the sex. He was not about to let reality and conscience to get in the way of this one moment of pleasure.