2. RUSSELL

I never really bought into the whole matchmaker thing the cruise offered up for single guests. Of course, that was also after all the pages of legal documentation to say they weren't liable but would be willing to switch out roommates and absolute incompatibility. It always put a smile on my face to look at the small print on these things, of course, they could never do these things legally, they were things they considered for fun or extracurricular to their cruise.

And I went to my room with that in mind, knowing I could switch my roommate out and hopefully get myself a room alone without paying any exorbitant upgrade fees. That idea left my head once I set foot inside the room and met him.

Griffin was tall, but a little shorter than me, and he might've been my exact type of guy. From the look of his half-emptied suitcase, I could see a couple of choice items still inside. A onesie with a hood and tail, I couldn't figure out which animal, but it was a sign he was into some age regression. The final clue was the teddy's head bulging out of the comforter by the pillow.

All that needed figuring out now was whether or not we were actually compatible.

"Top or bottom?" I mulled his question over. "How about you answer first, since you asked it."

Griffin chewed on the inside of his cheek, highlighting his cheekbone structure. "Well, I top. I'm not sure if—"

I smiled, catching me off-guard. "That's good to know. I definitely prefer to bottom, but I can top in case of an emergency," I said, a joke that landed sometimes. This time, not so much. Griffin stood, wavering on his feet. He reached for his mouth and raced for the bathroom. "I didn't think it was that bad of a joke," I said, hearing him vomit.

"No," he called out. "It was—" he vomited once more, "—funny."

From the doorway of the confined cabin, I looked at him on the bathroom floor, head in the toilet bowl. "You get seasick?" I guessed. "I have some seasickness tablets."

His bloodshot eyes and rosy cheeks looked up at me. "Please," he said. "I'm also a little hungover. Don't hold it against me."

"At least it wasn't about me," I said, catching him chuckle.

After fifteen minutes, Griffin came out of the bathroom. I'd got a better look inside the shared closet during that time he'd told me he didn't want me to see him spewing his guts. There were a couple more onesies folded and tucked in the corner, with an array of fancy decorative shirts, some of them covered in cute designs. My favorite was the yellow duckies on the dark blue. It made me want to go into the bathroom ad stroke his head and back until he felt better, but we'd only just met and I didn't want to overstep.

"I don't usually get seasick," Griffin said, still holding his stomach. "In fact, I'm pretty good with travel. I've been on boats before, but never a cruise ship. I keep calling this a boat, and my friend, he keeps shouting at me about it."

I could understand. These people were strict on that. "My friend, Mick, the one who coerced me onto this because I don't go to enough gay functions, apparently. He's a drag queen on the ship, and he gave me a rundown on the rules."

"Is he the one who also gave you the seasickness tablets?"

"He recommended them, just in case," I told him. "But since we're not venturing out too far, I don't think we're going to have to worry that much about the ship being beaten by waves."

"That's a relief," he said, clenching his arms around his stomach and sitting on his bed. "We should probably get ready for the champagne toast before we set off."

"You sure you want to drink?"

Griffin held his head in his hands. "I was also promised food."

"That, I can get behind," I said. "I hope you don't mind that I took up the other half of the closet."

He looked up for a moment to offer a smile and a nod. "Please, I left it for you, or whoever was going to take up that second bed," he said.

That reminded me of what we were talking about just before he started spewing his guts in the bathroom toilet, but it wasn't the time to bring it up again. The mood had struck, and quickly vanished. I was just glad he was ok.

I continued to unpack some of the clothes I wanted to hang in the closet.

"I should change, I got sick on my shirt," he said, and as I turned, Griffin was standing behind me, unbuttoning his shirt. He had a slim physique and a little hair on his chest, and smaller patches drawing my eyes down to the belt and the two slutty cumgutters sitting on his waistline. He caught me looking. "You can look," he said.

"When a cute guy undresses in front of me, it's almost a disrespect not to stop what I'm doing to pay attention," I said, wetting my dry lips with the tip of my tongue. "You know, I think you'd look cute in this one." I grabbed at the navy shirt with yellow duckies on.

He accepted it. "Just so you know, I look cute in everything I wear, so you're not wrong."

And I certainly wasn't.

Griffin was confident. He had a look I felt I'd seen before. I wanted to touch him, just to see if I'd touched him before. We definitely hadn't hooked up before, not unless he was a masked participant at one of the Playhouse Club events in New York. "Where are you from?"

"Originally, I'm from New Hampshire," he said. "Nashua. I moved to New York for work, but now I travel a lot for work. So, my apartment is there, but I rarely am."

"What work?"

I caught him lost for words, and for a second, I thought he was going to vomit again. "Marketing," he said.

"Nice. I'm originally from San Diego, California," I told him, even though he didn't ask. "Now, I look after a couple properties in New York."

"You're a landlord?" he asked, raising his brows at me.

"Commercial properties," I said. "And no, I don't own them. I work for a company that deals with property investments, so I help queer spaces get up and running."

"Oh, that's actually a really good thing," he said.

"My friend, Mick, drag name, Carcin O'Gen, he performed at Ruby Slipperz, a club in Manhattan. I helped them secure space and funding. There's a lot of spaces I actually helped. Playhouse Club is another."

He gave me a look, curiosity in his eyes. I knew I'd caught his attention, and I knew that he knew exactly where I was talking about. It added all my suspicions together, and solidified that whoever put us together was involved in some form of witchcraft because we matched each other.

"How do I look?" he asked, brushing his hands down the front of his buttoned shirt. "It's a little creased still."

"You look great. How do I look?"

"Like you did when you walked in," he said. "Which is to say, you look—hot."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank whoever put us together." He winked.

He must've been thinking the same thing. It was a good sign.

There was disembark call. We were all going to meet on the top deck for the champagne toast and to get our first look at everyone else on board. I didn't have any experience with cruise ships, but from boarding alone, I knew this was going to be full of tanned twinks freshly waxed and older men who had enough money to stop caring about their looks. At least that's what the cynic in me had been touting before I walked in and met Griffin. Now, I didn't care that everyone else would be throwing their bussy in the crotch of every stuffed Speedo they saw. I had my own chance of some summer loving.

We went to the deck together. Griffin still occasionally clenching at his stomach. We grabbed our drinks from the large table and joined everyone else in the huddle on the deck.

"You should eat," I told him, watching as he hesitantly sipped from the glass.

"I will," he said. "I was told they'd have snacks out."

Inside a fanny pack around my waist, under my shirt, I reached inside and pulled out a wrapped granola bar. "Have this," I said, pushing the warm bar in his hand. "It'll help put a layer down on your stomach."

"You just carry these around?"

"It's essential," I whispered as more people joined the crowd. "You never know when someone will get a little hungry."

"Thank you." He handed me his glass of champagne to get into the granola.

I could see people looking at him, but I didn't have enough to give everyone. Although I wondered what would've happened to him if I hadn't been paired up with him. Would he have ran over to the side of the ship, threw his head over and vomited further every step he took?

Once the crowd occupied the entire deck, two figures in blue blazers appeared at the front on step stools. They both had microphones. A man and a woman.

"Good afternoon," the woman shouted. "And welcome to Pride Party at Sea, Olympia Cruises annual pride cruise," she said. "I am Deana, one of your cruise party coordinators."

"And I'm Antonio," the man said. "We will be making this the loudest, most colorful party at sea this summer. Every single day and night, we will be hosting several events to cater to all our crowds. Remember, there are almost one thousand guests on board today."

As Deana went on talking about inclusivity, I looked around. There wasn't a thousand people on this deck, but I assumed some people were getting it announced in their rooms, like the super expensive suites. The cruise workers boasted about catering to all colors of the rainbow, and it was clear from those who came out repping the colors of their respective orientations. It was nice to see, even the bear tribe was being repped with their flag of brown to yellow to white to black with the paw print in the corner.

"I feel much better now," Griffin said, scrunching the wrapper in his hand.

I handed him the champagne back, taking the wrapper and stuffing it into my fanny pack. "That's good, but you should probably get something to eat when you can," I said.

"I will, don't worry, my friend promised me I'd be able to get some good food out here," he said.

Reaching a thumb to his face, I brushed crumbs from his mouth. He leaned into my touch and smiled at me. "Instinct, I guess," I said, but I'd just wanted a reason to initiate physical contact with him. "And for what it's worth, I don't think cruises get their rep from serving great food."

"Greasy food, I should've said," he laughed, clinking his glass to mine. "I rarely indulge, so I'm making the most of it for the next ten-eleven days, whatever it is."

"Ten days," I said.

He shrugged. "I'm on vacation now, it's not my job to keep count of the days."

"You got a wild side, huh?"

"You haven't seen anything just yet."

The event coordinators announced something and the crowd began to disperse.

I hadn't even noticed that the ship had started moving while we were out here. It was nice to see the city becoming smaller as we moved. I'd never been at sea before, the truth was, the sea had always fascinated me in a scary way. I'd watched so many horror movies about the open sea that it both calmed and raised my blood pressure.

"My friends," Griffin said, hooking an arm around mine. "They're gonna want to meet you. Make sure you aren't a killer."

Two guys approached us, both with the same rainbow lanyards around their neck.

"We know he's not a killer," the shorter of the two said, catching what Griffin had announced to the entire cruise. "Hi, I'm Ryan," he said. "You know, Griff was super nervous about meeting you."

"I thought it was his hangover anxiety," the other said. "I'm Thom, Ryan's partner, and cruise afficionado. I think this is our sixth pride cruise, but only our third with this cruise line."

I felt like a bad gay not knowing their were multiple pride cruises. I barely even know about this one. "I'm Russell, or Russ," I introduced myself to them. "This is my first cruise, and the first time I've ever—ever been set up with someone."

Ryan squeed. "Both of you are cruise virgins," he said. "That's so precious. I remember my first time. Just know, the natural sway of the ship is great for bedtime activities." He winked at us.

Griffin loosened his grip on my arm. "We're still in a twin room," I said. "It doesn't mean something is going to happen."

"Beds can be pushed together," Thom said.

I got that Griffin didn't want to be pressured into doing anything, and likewise, I didn't like the idea of being forced into it either. I was much more of a fan of the route of meeting by chance, and striking something from that. At least we both knew we were compatible from the get go this way, so there was some of the awkwardness removed.

"Have you both had a chance to look at the activities itinerary?" Ryan asked.

"No, I was actually busy being sick," Griffin said.

"I have." There were a lot of parties over the next several nights. "Tonight's the mixer, right?"

"Yes, that one if a given. They're going to be playing reggaeton as well, which I freaking love. Don't ask me anything about Spanish, but when that music starts up, my hips just understand," Ryan said, gyrating in front of Thom.

"Like Shakira said, the hips don't lie," Thom said, placing a hand on one of Ryan's legs while sipping champagne with the other.

I locked eyes with Griffin, the two of us sharing a similar expression.

"I don't dance," he said. "I just get real drunk and hope my body is alluring."

Ryan and Thom laughed.

"That's so accurate," Ryan said. "But he doesn't need to be able to dance well, he's a catalogue model, his looks sell what his moves don't."

"Model," I repeated. "I can teach you some dance moves, I've been known to break it up and throw shapes."

"Throw shapes," Ryan screamed laughing. "You are hilarious."

Thom shrugged. "Don't worry," he said. "I have to deal with him. He doesn't get some expressions, thinks they're hilarious."

"Ryan," Griffin said. "Where's this food at? I need something to line my stomach."

Ryan wiped his eyes after laughing do hard it drew tears. "I'll take you," he said. "I think the room match has done it again. You two should break the ice and go join the sea level club. You know, that's when you—"

"I think they got it," Thom said.

"Sea level club," Griffin repeated, looking at me. "Maybe later."

Maybe after I was sure he wasn't going to throw up again. "Later, but only if you're sure."

Ryan hooked his arm around Griffin's, leading him off and for me and Thom to follow behind.

"They've been best friends for years," Thom said.

"How long have you known Griffin?"

"Not long," he said. "He's always flying out. Ryan is always doing the most to spend more time with him. But from some of the stories I've been told, Griffin falls in love fast and hard, so if you're not into anything serious, don't lead him along."

"Understood." Griffin was a man after my own heart it seemed. A romantic.