What Started in a Bathroom - 1. The Bathroom Boy

Some stories start with a kiss. Ours started with a urinal and a really hard choice.

I’m neither embarrassed nor proud that I went into the mall bathroom on that fateful day. It is what it is. I went in under the premise to ‘pee,’ knowing full well that guys often stood at the urinal doing more than that.

This was one of those bathrooms that had a reputation of providing multiple forms of relief.

We met at the urinal. As soon as I walked in and stood next to him, thinking I’d be able to pee, I side-eyed how cute he was. Like a straight office worker on a break. His dick was out, but he wasn’t peeing, and then I couldn’t. I could tell he was staring at me, which sealed the fate of my inability to pee.

And of course I got hard, because he was.

What followed was surreal. Almost something you’d see in porn, except it wasn’t polished or perfect or coordinated.

Yeah, we went into the stall, and we kissed like we were starving. His hands were everywhere. I don’t even know who kissed who first. It was clumsy, breathy, and hot. I didn’t even know you could have a passionate encounter like that in such a confined space.

But all of my story really started after we left.

He stood outside Wendy’s, waiting subtly, in a way that told me he was waiting for me.

"Hey," he’d said, slowly walking along with me.

"Hey," I responded. "That was hot."

"Yeah. Do you work around here?" he asked.

Now here’s the thing. This guy is exactly my type. I like blondes, so tick. I like blue eyes, so tick. I like straight-ish looking, extra tick. Fit, tick. In a shirt and pants, extra fucking tick.

Uncut dick? Tick tick tick.

"Sort of. I live just behind the mall,” I said, trying not to sound too available.

"Oh, cool. So, do you want to meet again?" Then he smirked and added, "I mean, the chemistry was kind of obvious, right?"

I struggled not to say ‘yes’ too soon or show too much enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sure," I said, my legs buzzing like I’d downed three Red Bulls and forgotten how to play it cool. Then, "I usually wait until the third bathroom meet before kissing."

He laughed. A real, carefree laugh.

I smiled. "Happy to give you my number and text to arrange. If you want," I added, hearing the wobble in my voice.

He took his phone out, and I gave him my number.

Needless to say, I was far too distracted to shop and found myself wandering the mall aimlessly until my legs told me to fuck off home.

Two hours later, sitting on my couch, sipping a soda and trying to enjoy my day off, I realized I hadn’t checked my phone.

He’d messaged me three times.

Hey, thanks for your number. That was hot. Keen to do it again, maybe somewhere a bit better.

Then, after I hadn’t responded: Can you host? I can take breaks as long as I like.

And twenty minutes after that: Maybe even this afternoon, if you have time. Wink face.

It was 4pm. With trembling fingers I typed out: Yeah. Sorry, was doing stuff. I have no plans at all.

Straight away, he replied: I’m finished work. I could come over now if you want?

And that was day one.

He arrived just fifteen minutes later, at my door, surrounded by the warm Atlanta early summer, announced by crickets and a faint cologne I was sure he hadn’t worn earlier.

"Hey," I said, opening the door and letting him in.

"Hey. You do live close," he said, stepping inside and pinning me with those eyes.

I was about to ask if he wanted a drink, maybe suss out the vibe and see where this was heading, but he didn’t give me a chance. Less than a few feet from my door, he caught me off guard and kissed me.

We’d already kissed in the bathroom stall, and I already knew he was a really good kisser. But this kiss... this was the kind of kiss that says, "I already know you."

That hot tongue, the way his eyes dreamily opened and watched me while he kissed me, and the way his hands caressed me, stroked me, and pulled me into his body like it belonged to me.

It was the first time I remember how clothes just vanished. Not in the porn way. In the laugh-and-bump-into-walls, teeth-clicking, fumble-into-bed way. The kind that made us human.

And that first day, clothes vanished, and our bodies did the rest. I don’t know how long we were tangled together, only that I didn’t want it to end. He stayed much longer than either of us expected.

Long after we’d finished and lay side-by-side with our chests pressed together and our lips still kissing like they didn’t know it was over, I watched the light recede and shadows form across the room.

"I’d better get going. I have a dinner tonight," he said.

I tried to act cool. Why should I care? It was just a good day with a hot guy.

"I have plans too, that’s fine." I lied.

But as he left, I felt the beginning of disappointment.

I watched him go, that bubble butt I really wanted to fuck next time getting into that sporty little car that totally suited a twenty-something.

Me and the cat I’d locked in the kitchen watched Netflix that night. He, dreaming about the Tom cat next door, me thinking about that blonde guy’s kiss.

I didn’t even hear the notifications when the messages came in.

I really enjoyed today. I wish I wasn’t at dinner. I was wondering if you’d fuck me?

Tick tick fucking tick.

This dinner is almost over. Wonder if you’d be up for another round? Or is that too soon?

And another: Maybe over the weekend.

My heart pounded. Did he feel the way I did?

I wanted to kick myself for not checking my phone sooner. Netflix was good, but it wasn’t that good.

Hey, sure. I’m finished and at home. I guess I missed you?

Apparently not.

No, I’m on my way home. I can go shower, prepare and come over? Or you can come to mine?

Where do you live? I asked.

Old Fourth Ward. Not far from you.

I told him I’d go see him. Mostly because I wanted to see his place. I liked that area, and I’m nosy.

An hour later, I pulled into the drive of a very nice house and realized this was the third time in one day I’d encountered the same guy I met in a public bathroom.

"Hey, come in," he said, stepping aside and leading me into a modern, spacious living room that looked like it had been professionally styled.

"I realized this is the third time I’m seeing you today and I don’t even know your name," I said with a smile.

"Oh, I was thinking that earlier too! I’m Josh," he said, shaking my hand.

And then I did something that I’d regret, over-analyze, and replay in my head for days.

"Prefer to be shaking your cock again," I said, and immediately wanted to throw myself into oncoming traffic.

He blinked, then smiled and kissed me.

The look in his eyes when that garbage fell out of my mouth was something. But he decided the best course of action was to shut me up with a kiss.

Within minutes, we were naked again, and I was on top, knowing I was finally going to get my wish and fuck that tight, gorgeous ass of his.

We lay in bed as the last of the daylight drained from the room. The air was soft and still, the breeze moving curtains just enough to remind us the world still turned. Somewhere beyond the window, cicadas had started their chorus, a metallic buzz rising and falling, blending with the hum of the fan above us. I could feel the warmth of Josh’s skin against mine, the quiet rhythm of his breathing as his fingers wandered lazily across my chest. Not with any goal in mind. He seemed comfortable and relaxed.

“I used to come to this mall when I was a kid,” he said suddenly, his voice so low I almost missed it. “There was this carousel in the food court. I was obsessed with it. Thought the horses were magical.”

I nodded and smiled. “I can see that.” He wasn’t looking at me, he appeared to be lost in a memory while he looked up.

“My mom would bring me there on Saturdays. We’d get food after. I’d beg for tokens to ride the same horse every time. It squeaked like hell, but it was mine.”

He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That same bathroom we met in? I remember walking past it when I was little and thinking it looked haunted. Like something bad was inside.”

He finally turned his head toward me. “Now I’m the ghost.”

I felt something catch in my throat. “You’re not,” I said, but he wasn’t done.

“I was with my girlfriend for seven years. We lived together. Talked about getting engaged. And I thought I loved her. I think I did, in the way I knew how. But somewhere along the way, it started to feel like I was play-acting. Like I’d built a life that looked good from the outside but felt hollow inside.”

He paused to pull the sheet higher around us, then rested his hand over my stomach. “After she left, I didn’t touch anyone for a year. Didn’t want to. Didn’t know what I wanted, really. Then one day I found myself back at that mall. I hadn’t been in years. I sat on the bench near the bathroom and just watched people come and go. I wasn’t even sure why I was there. But I knew what was going on in there.”

“You didn’t go in?”

“Not the first time. I just sat there. It felt like I was staring at something that would change me and as though I was waiting for permission from myself to walk through the door. Next time I went in, but nothing happened and I watched a couple of older guys run off to the cubicle. The time after that, it did. And then I started going back. I thought it was because I liked it, but it was because I didn’t know what else to do.”

He glanced over at me again. “The more I did it, the worse I felt. Like I was trying to shake something loose by doing the same thing over and over. But then you walked in.”

I felt my chest tighten, that ache that appears when someone says something that’s too kind to ignore.

“You smiled,” he continued. “You didn’t just stare or walk past or act like this was a dirty secret. You have a really cute smile. I don’t even know if you meant to. But it felt… different.”

I swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting you either. To be honest, I was just thinking I wanted to get off. And we did, but yeah… you were quite a surprise.”

I shifted slightly so I could see him better. “I was with my girlfriend for four years. A long time ago. I haven’t really talked about her in ages. We broke up because I couldn’t explain what was missing, but I think I always knew. I’ve always known, I just wasn’t ready to accept the reality.”

He watched me, listening.

“I’m only now starting to admit I like men,” I said quietly. “Not just in passing or as some late-night fantasy, but really. And it’s been hard. Not because of other people, but because of me. That voice in my head that still tries to tell me this is wrong.”

Josh nodded slowly. “That voice doesn’t go away overnight.”

“It doesn’t even shut up.”

He let out a breath and moved his hand, sliding it gently into mine. We held each other there, under the fading light as I wondered how we’d gotten here so quickly.

“My dad made sure mine got installed early,” he said. “He was strict, like… military strict. The kind of man who says things like ‘real men don’t cry’ and still uses the word ‘queer’ like it’s a slur. I spent most of my life trying to be a version of me that he’d respect. That meant football, girls, a steady job. You know? Nothing soft. Nothing suspect.”

I nodded. “Mine wasn’t my dad. It was… everyone. When I was growing up here it felt like being openly gay in Atlanta meant being extra careful. Maybe not hiding exactly, but never standing too far out. We were polite about it. That polite, smiling kind of prejudice that says, ‘you do what you want, just not here.’”

Josh had this way of watching that showed he was listening. Not staring, not probing, just watching, like he was still piecing something together.

He said, “Only recently, I’ve started to think about maybe getting to know guys. Not just their dicks. Like, hanging out and doing something with someone like-minded.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean. I’ve been thinking that for a while. Seems we’ve reached a similar point at the same time.”

He laughed, leaned in and kissed me, giving me that look.

“I mean, we both played it straight for years, right? We checked the boxes. Did the long-term relationships, smiled for the photos, gave the right answers when people asked,” I added.

“And still wound up in a bathroom stall,” he said, finishing the thought for me.

“Yeah.” I paused. “But somehow that led here.”

Josh rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, eyes half-lidded. “I don’t think I want to do the stall thing again.”

“No?”

“It felt like something I had to do. Like scratching an itch that wasn’t really the itch.”

“That make me your antihistamine?”

He laughed out loud, then looked over at me, and I felt him relax again. Not all the way, but more than before.

“I just mean... this is the first time in a long time something didn’t feel like an escape.”

The way he said that, calm and open, made something shift in me. Something I wasn’t sure I was ready to name.

“I’m not saying I know what this is,” he added quickly, like he’d heard the echo of his own words. “Or what I want it to be. But I didn’t expect to feel... comfortable. Not today.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Me neither.”

Outside, the cicadas buzzed louder. The fan turned overhead, pushing warm air around the room like it was trying to keep us awake. His hand found mine again, but not in some dramatic, finger-laced gesture, it was just a quiet touch, like he wanted to make sure I was still there.

We lay quietly, feeling comfortable.

Not everything needs a definition straight away.

Sometimes, just not needing to leave is enough.

“I don’t know if this is too forward, but if you want you can stay the night. I’m off tomorrow and no major plans in the morning.”

I lay back and thought about what he said. A part of me was excited we appeared to like each other enough to be this open and honest, but another part of me was warning me to get out.

“I was just thinking that…” I didn’t know what I was thinking.

Josh seemed to misinterpret my hesitance. “Oh, it’s fine if that’s too forward. Maybe we can meet some other time.”

I turned to him again, kissed him and smiled. “What I was going to say was that earlier when you came over, I locked the cat in the kitchen. She’s out now, and I’ve barely spent a night away from her lately, but… I think she’ll cope. But yeah,” I gave him another kiss and looked into his eyes, “I’d love to stay.”

I didn’t know it then, but that was just day one. And Josh? He had a few surprises of his own.

If you want to read what happened in that stall, and later in bed, I’ve started this series elsewhere, but I’ll post subsequent chapters here when I can.

Fox