“Oh, I fucked him. He’s an insatiable bottom,” raved an acquaintance of mine about a guy I’d described, after he asked me if I was seeing anyone special.
His tone suggested that he was applauding my taste, but the sudden visual of my acquaintance naked, rubbing up against a boy I’d only fantasized about being with did little to bolster my intentions.
As a bartender, I’m privy to far too much information. These more disturbing tidbits about my potential lovers come largely from the same set of guys. While we rarely mingle, we are united by a common lust for the same type: We are twink-chasers.
I used to assume that my interest in the smooth perfection of skinny young gay boys was a universal gay phenomenon. However, having observed image after image of masculine, hard-bodied jocks and daddies in endless gay ads and magazines, and having seen how many of my friends drool over muscular man-meat, I began to realize that the taste for twinks is a rather particular predilection.
To outsiders, it is a preference that has inspired negative interpretations of those who share it: We have problems with masculinity, internalized homophobia, control issues, or pedophiliac tendencies.
I got to know who the other local twink-chasers are after my lovers repeatedly mentioned them in their past-partner lists. The more I heard the names of these men who seem to share my desires and sexual history, the more I came to regard them as my competition.
I started to rate myself against their strengths, comparing who had the better job, financial resources, body, etc. In my insecurity, I even took part in a cold war of backstabbing gossip in an attempt to take any advantage by maximizing their weaknesses or indiscretions. Rumours flew back and forth about which of us was cruel or crazy, who had shared hidden camera sex tapes, and who gave what STI to whom.
Having been both victim and attacker in this distasteful mudslinging, I’m surprised to have become Facebook friends with some of my so-called rivals. In addition to the benefit of keeping one’s “enemies” closer, there emerged the odd pleasure of looking through our “mutual friends” lists to see how many hotties we shared in common.
Perhaps it is this unity of lust that encourages us to share our experiences. Only through the eyes of someone who shares your hopes and desires can you really feel understood, whether in victory or defeat.
As vulgar as his comment was, my acquaintance may have been encouraging me in his own awkward way. The fact is this uncomfortable brotherhood of twink-chasers may understand my personal joys and pains with the game of sexual desire in a way no one else can.
Although I may have initially felt threatened by their presence, I have to admit that they have helped me to identify and highlight my own unique strengths. With a smile, a nod, a crass comment, or through any number of special signals, we’ve also helped each other to reaffirm and celebrate our experiences of beauty and sex.
Though it may be frustrating at times, I am, to some extent, grateful for having these “brothers” in my life. As long as they back off my boy.