I couldn’t tell what was redder, his face, or his manhood. But he knew it too. There was only one way he was getting out of here without making a scene. So he turned around and put one hand on the wall, and the other between his legs. “You’re a dick,” he said without looking at me. I didn’t say anything. Nothing I could say would make him more miserable than he already was. All I had to do was stand there. I watched his back as he started to masturbate. I could picture his hand wrapped around his penis, pulling up and down. He was going fast, but trying not to look like he was going fast. He wanted this to be over with, but he wanted me to think that this wasn’t a big deal to him. I watched the wetly gleaming muscles of his back, legs, and buttocks as he got started. Initially his head had been raised, and he’d been looking stubbornly at the tiles, but now it was bowed, and he had leaned farther forward. I could tell from his arm that his hand was working steadily. I went around. Jerry sat on the couch looking at me. He’s got a big smile on his face and he’s holding out that small box to me. ‘I actually came here to deliver this to you. The roses were an add on. Don’t worry, they’re rainforest compliant or something like that.’ I took the box and shook it slightly. We both laughed at the joke. It was something we both did as kids and never outgrew. Whenever either of us would give a gift, extra care was taken to either hide the rattle, or lay a false trail. Jerry’s best was glass beads in a very small glass jar when we were not seriously dating in college. It hid tickets to see the Alkaline Trio. He looked at me with a smile on his face, but he wasn’t saying anything. I took the ribbon off, and then unpeeled the tape. But I did it slowly to see what reaction I was going to get out of him. I glanced at him and saw that he wasn’t impatient. The wrapping came off and there were two small boxes, neither of which rattled. We both laughed again. I repeated the.
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