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It had been a month since the night Jared kissed Richard, and their relationship seemed healed over. It was awkward. Very awkward. But Richard’s need for Jared’s calming presence outweighed that one kiss, the one that was so light that neither of them was really sure if actual contact had been made.
But Jared wasn’t recovered yet. He felt like he had definitive proof that that would never happen, and romantic rejection was foreign to him. He covered up his pain, as always, but beneath his smiles, his eyes would be rimmed with red. Whether it was from tears or weed was uncertain. At night, he watched Julia Roberts movies, got stoned, tried to calm himself and say that he would get over it and move on just like he had with everything else, but it wasn’t working.
One night, he was alone, again, and got a text message.
Come over, it said. It was from Gilfoyle. That was a shock. When he gave Gilfoyle his number, he was positive that he was only pretending to enter it into his phone. He had no idea what Gilfoyle could ever want to talk to him about, but he was lonely, so he went.
He knocked on the door to Gilfoyle’s room and went in. Gilfoyle was putting music on his Bluetooth speakers, and he went to the bed and laid down. There were two blunts on the bedside table. Jared sat in a chair across from the bed, uncomfortably.
Neither of them said anything.
The music was loud and abrasive. Jared was startled by the lyrics, “I’ll stick it…deep inside”. Was Gilfoyle trying to hook up with him? That had to be impossible.
“Did you want to talk to me about something?” Jared asked.
“I think we have something in common,” Gilfoyle said as he sat up and looked at Jared.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Like…neither of us are giving blood anytime soon. Not that I would anyway. Since I don’t believe in charity. Also, I don’t believe in giving others access to my strength.”
Jared was confused. “I don’t…”
“Okay. You’re gay, right?”
Jared was taken aback by the question, but hesitantly answered yes.
Was Gilfoyle trying to hook up with him?
“So we both fuck guys, is my point.”
“Oh…” Jared noticeably tensed. Which was surprising to Gilfoyle, since he didn’t think it was possible for Jared to get any more tense.
“Dude, relax. I don’t want to fuck you. I don’t do that shit. You know that, ‘let’s look into each others’ eyes and go to Crate and Barrel in the morning’ shit. It’s disgusting.”
Jared laughed softly.
Gilfoyle handed him one of the blunts and a lighter. The music got slower.
“I’m dirt…and I don’t care.”
Jared inhaled deeply and held it. As he exhaled he asked, “how do you not care?”
“Okay, so I think I see what’s going on. You put a move on Richard, right? And he rejected you. Which is weird because I was positive that Richard’s sexuality was dependent on who was paying attention to him at the time. Right?”
Jared nodded. “Why are you asking me about this?”
“Because I think you need to get the fuck over it and move on.”
“Has this happened to you?”
“Have I moped around like a fucking asshole for a month? Fuck no.”
“No, I mean…” Jared coughed. “Have you ever fallen for, you know, a straight guy?”
Gilfoyle thought about it, like he was debating what to reveal and what not to.
“No. But listen. You’re obviously super hung up on this and it’s annoying as balls, so I wanted to help you.”
“Why, though? I, honestly, Gilfoyle, I didn’t think we were friends.”
“We’re not friends.” Gilfoyle said.
“Oh.”
“We’re not friends, but you’re the best at what you do, right? And even though I think what you do is fucking stupid and pointless, I respect domination. You fucking dominate at your stupid bullshit work. And this is throwing you off. That’s unacceptable.”
“But I…I really felt like I wasn’t being obvious? I thought I was coming into work just fine. Work has always been my salvation.”
Gilfoyle rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell dude.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to deal with it?”
“You get on Grindr like every other gay dude and forget about it, man.”
As Jared got more stoned, he became almost like an actual person, with visible insecurities and awareness.
“But do you think that I’d…do okay on there?” he asked.
Gilfoyle exhaled a pillar of smoke. Jared was trying to get him to compliment him and he was never going to be high enough for that.
“Do you remember that time Dinesh brought that girl home from Tinder?” Gilfoyle asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you honestly think that if he could get somebody to be interested in him that you can’t?”
“She broke his heart,” Jared said.
“He got over it. Just like everyone gets the fuck over this shit. I know that you like, spent twenty years of your life in a fucking Mennonite compound or whatever but you live with humans now. This is what happens. Richard isn’t your one true love,” he looked sick at even uttering the phrase, “some other dude isn’t going to be either. If you learn to just seek pleasure and not apologize for it, you’ll be happier. Your self-denying bullshit is holding you back.”
The music ended. The blunts were snuffed out. Jared was glassy-eyed and stupid looking, but he felt relief.
“Gilfoyle, I want you to know that you did a good thing today.”
“Get the fuck out of my room.”