The glands started to fire an hour ago when I finally got hold of this forgotten flick, Boys on the Beach, on the internet, which had been shown years ago at the LGBT festival in this funny Art Deco cinema around the corner in the late session—they would show coming-out flicks in the afternoon, HIV-dread in the evening, porn at midnight—the audience packed into chairs from the ‘30s, creaky timber frames and velvet upholstering made to watch noir Maigret flicks—and there have been a few suggestive exchanges already, eyes meeting in the waiting crowd (we had been backed up in the lobby by an interminable Derek Jarman film), and this guy, half-balding but gym-enhanced, a slap-my-face expression on his face as if stepping right out of an Active Duty porn clip (moonlighting military with insuppressible grins and flawless genitals) so this guy had somehow sidled around me twice already in the lobby and then ended up on the seat next to mine...
kasi parati syang tumatambay sa bahay namin kapag tapos na ang klase sa hapon...favorite place namin ung veranda namin sa bahay...palagi kaming nakikinig ng music dun sabay inom ng alak...palagi kaming ganon. parang naging routine na gabi-gabi...kng uuwi xa sa bahay nila para matulog, dumudungaw muna sya sa bintana at tinatawag ako. parati rin kaming magkasama sa pagsimba tuwing linggo...halos araw2x sya nalang palagi ang kasama ko...sabi nga ng tatay nya sobra pa kmi sa magkapatid..di na naghihiwalay...