all those things I don't care about...

So I haven't written about it much, but I've been spending time with the Viking lately. It's not exactly habitual yet, although it's getting there. And we've moved past just the convenient post-hanging out in a group hookups to blatant booty calls. Which are always fun. And it's actually been a while since I've had a regular booty call, especially here at school. Which is weird to think about, but I guess it's true.

This weekend, it was my friend's girlfriend's birthday... Hmm, how to explain the relationship without using names? OK. My best friend in The Band (and one of my best friends in general) is the drummer of the band. I went to Ireland with he and his girlfriend last semester, and she and I get along great. The Band consists of the Drummer and his five roommates, although the actual band is four guys, only two of whom live in the house of guys that makes up The Band. Anyway, the Drummer's girlfriend invited me out for her birthday with most of The Band - she and I were the only girls. We went to a swanky sushi restaurant, and as the ice has finally receded here in the tundra, I got to get dressed up. I went with a teeny, tiny green dress (worn last on new year's eve), and fabulous green and black heels that have an adorable rounded, wing-tip toe. The Viking (who's the other roommate who is actually in the band - he plays bass) met the rest of us after dinner for bar-hopping.

I was terribly over-dressed for the pubs we were going to, but after a few drinks, I wasn't too concerned. And in any case, it was really fun to watch the Viking stealing looks at me. (I'll admit, those shoes DO make my legs look pretty fantastic.) We still haven't told our friends about us hooking up - although I have mentioned it to the Drummer's girlfriend, so there's a chance the Drummer knows. If he does, though, he hasn't said anything about it. We all (six of us by that point) eventually closed down the last bar and took the bus back to my apartment. The Drummer and his girlfriend and the Viking and I all sat in the back row. Of course, the Drummer and his girlfriend were being adorable and PDA-y, although thankfully not to a nauseating extent. Then somehow the Drummer and the Viking started jokingly punching each other. It turned into a psuedo-wrestling match. The Drummer eventually conceded that even though he's the taller of the pair, the Viking is stronger than he is. And then there was the bromance moment where the Drummer got all mushy and was telling the Viking that he was, like, his best friend, and he's such a great guy, and the Viking reiterated the sentiment. And then I got this strange feeling. Of warm fuzzies. Of course, the only reason I know the Viking is because he's such good friends with the Drummer, but I had this random flashback to when the Drummer first introduced me to his girlfriend. She had to leave Ireland a day early, giving the Drummer and I the day to hang out alone, and he confessed to me that he'd been really nervous about us liking one another, and he was so happy that we got along so well. Because we both mattered in his life. It was this really nice moment. And that's what I flashed back to, watching the Viking and the Drummer act out their friendship.

It was very strange. It made me want to just cuddle with the Viking right there, be all adorable and PDA-y like the Drummer and his girlfriend were being. And I suddenly felt very silly for thinking that I needed to keep our relationship a secret. Of course, I didn't say anything about it there, on the bus with everyone else. But it was a new sensation at the same time that it made me aware of the fact that I'd been looking forward to seeing the Viking all night, and that I'd noticed how he smiled when he saw me. And that I liked the way he said my name. And then I stopped myself. I don't get mushy like this.

I don't generally like PDA. It makes me uncomfortable, more often than not. I'm not used to having traditionally legitimate relationships, and so I guess I've gotten cautious and that urge to kiss people in public has mostly faded. (Not entirely...there are notable exceptions. Like my random and somewhat childish desire to be that obnoxiously cute couple cuddling in line at the amusement park.) But even more than that, I don't like the mush. I don't like the cutesy stuff. Saying "I love you" should be a statement of fact, not some massive production in my book. I expect to split the bill on dates. I don't want people opening doors for me unless they already would have or just walked through it themselves.

But it's something that's struck me since the first time I hooked up with the Viking. He's really sweet to me. Yes, there's the funny bluntness, the no-nonsense discussion that's always there, and the sex. But the things that really stick with me are the way he puts his arms around me. The way he gently kisses my neck, my forehead, my nose. The way he intertwines his fingers with mine and pulls me closer before we fall asleep. The way he sweeps my hair away from my face and lets his hand linger on my jawline as he kisses me.

These aren't things I should be focusing on. It's not that I've never had them before, I've just not been so aware of them. And I don't know why I am so aware of them with the Viking. Certainly, other partners cuddle with me, other partner kiss me softly or brush the hair from my face. So what's so different with the Viking? Maybe it's just a contrast with his aloof personality. I don't expect such tenderness from him.

Then again, I guess looking at me, knowing me, you wouldn't necessarily expect that I'd want those things, either. Maybe that's why it works. But it concerns me. I find myself wanting to see him more. I text him more often, not always late at night. I get excited when I know he's going to be where I am. Good lord, I'm developing a crush on him. Shit. Of course, it's not overly serious, and things will end when we both graduate shortly. But this urge that I have to spend more time with him now is rather strange to me.

And then I'm not sure how much of this has to do with the fact that at the end of that night, after he'd convinced me to come back to their house with the band, and after the Drummer had made up the couch for me and the Viking had waited til the Drummer left to come in and ask if I'd sleep in his bed with him, and I'd said yes and made a joke we'd both laughed at about his messy room, and I laid down and the Viking just wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck and pulled me close to him and let me sleep. We spent the night in bed together and there was nothing else. There was no pressure for anything else. Why does that feel so much more intimate and personal than had there been sex? It just seems like another step further from the just-a-booty-call classification.

But it was nice. I WILL miss his cuddling. And yes, those adorable little things I told myself I don't care about. Shit.