I remember that night in March when we decided to go to a Japanese restaurant with our workmates for a meeting, over a couple of ramen bowls and bottles of Sapporo. Like a genie appearing after a rubbed lamp, a familiar voice whispered into my right ear saying, “Got lights with you?”

I looked right behind me and there you were, flashing the same sweet smile that I first saw from the rear view mirror inside your car during our road trip to Laguna.

With clammy hands and a faster heartbeat, I stood up hastily without any hesitation on my end, and went outside the restaurant to share a cigarette with you.

“So...how are you doing?” you asked me while lighting up the cigarette that’s tucked between my lips with a mini lighter you are holding.

I couldn’t exactly figure out at that time what I really wanted to tell you, and instead of letting you know how I am, all I wanted to know then was how things between us will go from there.

“Can you stay longer this time?” I asked you then while handing you the nicotine stick I pulled out of my mouth, with the cigarette filter damped with my saliva. 

I was looking into every move that you make, as if every flick of your hand moves over my skin. I felt a sense of giddiness seeing that dampened cigarette stick from my mouth now touching your lips. It’s as if we are exchanging mouth juices in a long torrid kiss. Seeing you sucking on a cigarette gave me thoughts of you going down on me. I held my breath, speechless when you bent down in front of me while you held my waist and stubbed out your cigarette on the ground. 

A simple “yes” that escaped from your lips and your tightened grip on my waist instantly made me wet in excitement. Like a short-lived vanilla cactus blooming once a year on a single evening, my body opened up to you in anticipation that night.

As soon as we have finished our dinner, we joined our colleagues and walked over to the building where one of them lives. It was Di who invited us over to stay at her place, (specifically on the 24th floor), to have a couple more drinks. I knew at that moment that the Christmas lights inside our heads were blinking in unison, as we exchanged hidden smiles and stolen glances in the darkness of the parking lot.

Remember when you asked Di if you may smoke inside her house that night? I do  recall her saying that we can smoke by the couch situated near the windows. She warned us that if we open up the windows, we should be careful not to drop anything outside of it, or else there will be consequences.

Upon hearing that, you instantly took the window spot, sat there on the couch and lit up a cigarette. Knowing that the couch is too tiny for us to share with, I had to ask permission from Di if I can smoke inside her bedroom instead. Knowing Di, she wouldn’t say no to me.

So I went inside Di’s bedroom, sat on the floor, and automatically closed the door. I lit up my cigarette and tried to erase from my mind my vivid thoughts of a naked you. After about five minutes, I heard a few knocks on Di’s bedroom door. When I opened it up, I was so surprised seeing you there standing right in front of me, with beaming eyes, asking if you can come in.

Slowly, I opened up the door, let you in, and closed the door behind you. As I was just about to have a drag from the nicotine stick I was holding in my right hand, I was stunned when you held me close to you, with your mouth hungrily devouring my lips. From there, everything was just lost, up in clouds of smoke.