Cheaters ✓

Naked Truth

15 October 2020

That happened in those two hours, right after we checked into room number 1027 of Hotel Conrad, had never happened before in my life. The room was a complete mess and our bodies messier. I had numerous scratches and bite marks all over my body, and he too had been marked with several hickeys. When he went, to the washroom, I could see the redness on his butt. I didn't remember how many times I spanked it. I'd never done this to Jungkook. Or with him. Such dirty sex. Such animalistic behaviour. Such complete surrender to sexual temptation. Suddenly the orgasmic bliss was replaced by guilt.

To be honest, I didn't get into this with Yoongi for sex. Even though it eventually led to that. I don't think I was ever the kind of person who sought sex outside marriage. Let's not get into the moral argument of it. I never felt like it. I was happy with whatever and whenever Jungkook and I had it. But after he shifted to Gwangju, I realized what I needed was companionship. Someone who would be there for me whenever I wanted them to. Someone with whom I could do
whatever I wanted to without any second thoughts. To share my thoughts, my feelings, my impulses, my quietude and my chaos. Sex was a part of that need but not the whole for sure. Not for me.

Yoongi came out of the washroom after some time, wearing a bathrobe. He seemed to have taken a bath as he looked fresh. His hair was dry though. On second thoughts it was probably a post-coital glow. For some reason, he wasn't looking at me. He picked up his bag and fumbled inside it for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one and took a long drag.

'You smoke?' I asked. And realized it sounded more of a how-could-you-not-have-told-me kind of allegation. He glanced at me. Maybe it did sound like an allegation after all.

'I like to smoke after sex,' he said, drawing the curtains and taking in the view of the city. I got up from the bed and went and stood next to him, stark naked, and took his cigarette. He didn't stop me but threw me an incredulous look.

'I will smoke what you smoke, when you smoke,' I said, taking a puff, but the smoke made me cough. He couldn't stop his laughter. I didn't know then that smoking would be one of those habits he would gift to me.

'Someone died the day before,' he said. I wasn't ready for this sudden change of topic.

'Who?'

'If I'd told my husband this, he would have asked: "So?" But you asked 'who'. It shows your interest in people. I like that,' he said between puffs and added, 'I don't know the person. Someone in the colony. Someone who died too soon. His wife was crying while people were lamenting about how untimely the death was.'

I still didn't know where this was going.

'And then I wondered, just like a person can die untimely, so can a relationship, right? But we realize it much later, By then a few years of our life have already been wasted, What then?'

'I guess letting the experience grow inside us, allowing it to alter us and moving on is the only way.' Somehow, his thought was worth a thought.

'Allowing it to alter us? An experience is too subliminal to seek our permission. We simply become what affects us. It's like we are a plain desert to begin with, and when someone walks on it, the imprints become a part of our being.' I didn't respond immediately.

'That's beside the point though,' he said and continued, 'What I meant was, what if you lose your prime years because of a person? Like at first you think the person is worth every bit of your life and then realize he or she is a mistake. A blunder maybe. Or maybe not necessarily that. Mistakes and blunders are strong words. But maybe you simply realize there's nothing between the person and you. Not even friction. He is there. You are there. You both inhabit the same space and yet are a thousand light years away from each other. Just like dead people are from the ones who are alive. And no matter what you do, those years won't come back.'

'Basically, what you are saying is that life doesn't give us second chances.'

He looked at me, finished the cigarette and stabbed it in the ashtray. He then came and stood behind me and put his arms around my waist, resting his face on my back

'I love how you squeeze my paragraphs into one line,' he said and kissed my back.

'And you have expanded the one line of my life into multiple chapters.' I turned around and kissed his forehead. He pulled away and walked towards the couch, picking up an apple from the centre table on the way.

'You choose a comfortable life. But then you arrive at a point when you realize that comfort has destroyed or wasted your true self. That all your innate talents or desires went to the gutter because of that one choice of comfort over everything else. Tell me, have you ever felt that?'

'Not me. On the contrary, I've always taken risks. I dropped out of college to become an entrepreneur. I don't think I've wasted myself.'

'I feel happy to know that. To see someone who didn't fall for the comfort trap. But then that is probably because we both are  men. Women, on the other hand, aren't allowed to pursue a journey of their choice. And if they want to, or if they do so, even the roads are marked from beforehand. They are seldom spared if they choose an unconventional road.'

For a long time, we didn't speak. Perhaps we both were lost in our own quietude. I didn't know about him, but I was thinking about what had happened over the last two hours in the room.

'Listen, can we not do this again?' I asked beseechingly. It was bothering me and I wanted to get it out of my system.

If I had to be dishonest with him, then I was better off not meeting him.

'Do what?' He came out of his trance.

'Come to a hotel room for sex.' I just put it out there. This had always been a problem with me. I didn't know how to sugar-coat the truth. I always preferred my truth naked.

'But what if I tell you I'm in it only for this,' Yoongi said and took a bite of the apple, studying its contours. I understood even he liked his truth naked. And what I realized was that two naked truths together looked damn ugly.

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