This rockstar life

2.4 Numbers

Content: See Introduction for general content notes. Sexual references.

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"So how many?"

"God, do we have to?"

"No. But yes, I really want to know. I'm not judgy, do I look judgy?"

He eyes me, "Well, yeah, kinda!"

I attempt to mold my face into the picture of nonchalance.

"It's just, I don't know what's normal. And my life has not been exactly normal."

"I'll make allowances, apply calibration if necessary."

"Oh all right." He winces and puts one hand over his eyes. "Are we counting...other stuff?"

"Other stuff?"

"Like, blowjobs and stuff?" 

He's got both hands over his face now, hiding. I can't work out whether he's afraid I will be horrified because the number is huge or that I will laugh because the number is small.

"Erm, let's say not."

"Okay...then..."

"Then?"

"Argh, eleven, okay. Oh, twelve now."

"Ah, interesting, interesting." I'm actually surprised, I'd expected way higher than that for a bona fide rockstar. "And really specific."

He looks confused.

"I'd expected more of a, haha, ballpark figure."

He smiles, "I think it's something I'd remember."

"Even if you were drunk?"

"Well I can't do it when I'm drunk."

"Right."

He's stopped covering his eyes but is still hiding his face against my shoulder. I feel a sudden wave of tenderness (hello oxytocin) and turn and wrap my arms around him. "You are the sweetest."

"I am? What for?"

"For being specific." We lie quietly for a minute and then, because I am actually the nosiest person in the universe, I ask "And if we did include," I do air quotes, "blowjobs and stuff?"

"Um, less specific."

"A lot less specific?"

"Quite a lot less specific," he agrees.

"Nuff said." We're both smiling.

"So go on then."

"What?"

"What's your number?"

"Oh. Also specific. Seven."

"Including us?"

I nod.

"Good number. Lucky"

"Yes," I deadpan, "that's exactly what this was about, getting a lucky number."

(November 1989)