“Why is that?” I asked, hoping to god that my voice wouldn’t start trembling.
“Well, first off I think that a lot of people are kind of baffled about how to bring up a conversation like this. We’ve been taught since we were young that relationships are about passion and chemistry, not communication,” Dom explained.
“Oh yeah,” I said, “the media portrays it that way for sure.”
“Exactly,” Dom continued. “Think of romcoms—the tension between the main characters is almost always based on miscommunication. And instead of sitting down to discuss things, they both just magically realize that they want to be together.”
“Or that they’re miserable without each other,” I added, my blush returning with a vengeance.
Fuckfuckfuck.
“They end up together because one of them makes a huge romantic gesture, and then they are both overcome with passions, right?” said Dom. “In real life, it doesn’t tend to work that way. People who don’t bother to communicate in their dating life tend to end up getting hurt over and over again.”
“So how do you think people should approach this question? How do you figure out if you just had a one-off or not?” I asked.
Dom grinned at the camera. “You’re not gonna like this one, I don’t think. The only way I have figured out is to literally just ask.”
“What, like look at someone point blank and say ‘what did this mean to you?’” I asked, eyebrows raised.
He licked his lips, and for a split second I thought he might shoot that question back at me right then and there. But instead he said, “That’s one way to do it. I think you should feel it out—if someone has been receptive to that kind of language throughout the encounter. It’s important to communicate while you’re hooking up as well, and you can learn a lot about a person based on how they communicate in bed. If someone has been asking for what they want verbally, and checking in with me that way, I’m more likely to just ask them straight out what the encounter meant to them afterwards. But if someone has been communicating more with actions—showing me what they want, moving me until I hit the right spot—then I might not push them into the position of having to show their cards first.”
“So how would you ask them in that case?” I asked, my mind whirring.
“I might take the lead and tell them how I’m feeling, and then give them a chance to respond. Maybe I’ll say ‘I had a great time, can I get your number?’ or ‘this was fun, let me know if you want to do it again sometime,’” he said.
“I’ve found that some people will just say yes to brush you off though,” I pointed out. “It’s not necessarily a malicious thing—although it can be. I think that dating culture in this day and age relies a lot of being vague and trying not to hurt someone’s feelings. It can be really hard for people to express that they don’t want to see someone again.”
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Dom said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m hoping that videos like this one will help people to understand that it’s actually kinder to tell someone up front that you’re not interested rather than stringing them along. I know you’ve mentioned that you don’t generally sleep with the same guy twice—how do you make that clear to them?”
Jesus, Dom was so good at this, sending the ball back into my court so that the video didn’t fall into a bland Q&A format. I loved working with him, and we’d only been at it for a few minutes.
“I initiate that discussion before the clothes even come off,” I said. “I know it can feel vulnerable to do that, because people will decide not to sleep with you sometimes. But honestly, I would rather be rejected before anything happens than have someone else get upset because I sleep with them once and don’t want to do it again.”
“There’s definitely an element of having to decide whose feelings you’re more willing to have get hurt, yours or theirs,” said Dom.
“Yeah, that’s how I look at it,” I said. “I would always rather be the one who’s disappointed that he doesn’t get to have sex that night than have someone else get hurt because they expect too much of me. And the easiest way to make sure that neither of those things happen is to have your intentions stated on your dating apps. Everyone who matches with me sees that I’m looking exclusively for casual sex, so the only people I meet up with are people who are okay with that.”
Something dark flickered across Dom’s face, but it cleared just as quickly as it had come. I wanted desperately to know what he was thinking.
“The tricky part comes when you don’t know ahead of time what you want,” he said. “For you, it seems very cut and dry; you’re only looking for sex. But for me, it’s more complicated than that. I’m open to both casual sex and a relationship, and I won’t necessarily know which I’m going to want until after I’ve been with someone. That’s why I’m such an advocate of communicating clearly—because a lot of us are on an emotional rollercoaster when it comes to sex and dating. We need time to think, time to process, and we need to talk otherwise it all turns into a tangled mess.”
My pulse sped up once more. Dom was right, this did feel like I was on a rollercoaster. Maybe Space Mountain, the one where you’re in the dark and don’t know which direction the coaster is going to go until it gets there.
One thing was for sure: I didn’t like it when Dom said that I was only looking for sex. It felt untrue, for the first time in my life.
Jesus fucking Christ, I thought desperately. This is a disaster.
“What do you think are the consequences of not talking about what you want?” I asked, trying to hold onto the thread of the conversation.
Something in Dom’s expression changed, and suddenly he looked…almost sad. It was minute, not something the average viewer would pick up on. But I was closely attuned to his every word and movement, and I could tell that my question had provoked some unhappy memory for him.
“Well, as we’ve already mentioned, people tend to get hurt. There are a lot of ways this can happy, obviously. All of my friends have come home from a date at some point all excited that it went well, only to be ghosted. It’s not a great feeling, and it’s becoming something of an epidemic, especially since the genesis of internet dating. But if you keep seeing someone for a long time without sitting down to discuss your expectations of the relationship, it’s a recipe for disaster,” Dom said.
“In those scenarios, everyone tends to get hurt,” I said, hoping that he would elaborate.
“Yeah, this is something I’ve talked about quite a bit on my channel, actually,” he said. “When I was in college I spent about three years in a relationship with a man, and I assumed we were going to be together forever. I never said that out loud, I just assumed he felt the same way. But over time I started noticing that he pulled away emotionally whenever I suggested that we do something that would establish us as a serious couple. It was little things, each of them small enough to be dismissed. He didn’t want to come to my cousin’s wedding, didn’t want to get dinner with my mom when she was in town, didn’t want me to come with him when he went to Hawaii with his family. Anytime I asked for an explanation, he brushed me off, made me feel like I was being needy. But after years of this, I started to see the pattern. He wasn’t intending to spend his life with me, and he never had.”
“That’s really shitty,” I said, reaching out to rest my hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry that you went through that.”
“I’m not,” he countered. “I learned a lot, and I think it gave me a lot of insight into how to have a healthy relationship, since I had an unhealthy one. That said, I recommend that everyone out there watching this video learn from my mistake rather than making the same one.”
He cracked a grin and I squeezed his shoulder before lowering my hand. His smile was like sunshine, warming me from the inside out.
I like him so much, I thought desperately.
“I think that’s a fantastic note to end on,” I told him, pulling out my phone. “I always end with a couple of
questions that my viewers have sent me, you up for that?”
“Totally,” said Dom, leaning in to look at the phone with me.
“First one is from Freddy in Omaha, Nebraska. ‘If you haven’t decided whether or not you like someone, is it okay to go on a second date with them?’”
Dom nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a great question. Here’s my take on it—you can’t be expected to know right away if you’re going to want to be with someone long term. For some people attraction is instant, but for a lot of us it grows over time. I think it’s completely fair to go on a second date with someone you’re not sure about, as long as you make your intentions clear. Let them know that you need to ease into things. Chances are they feel the same way.”
“I totally agree,” I said, nodding. “I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but the theme of today’s video is just keep communicating.” I handed Dom my phone. “Wanna read the next one?”
He squinted at the screen—which was absolutely adorable—and read aloud, “‘I was recently dumped and am just starting to go on dates again. I’m not ready for more, but getting back out there has been helpful. How do I explain that to guys?’ That one is from Ryan in London.”
“Well, first off, good for you getting back out there, Ryan,” I said. “Honestly, I think you can say exactly that. You don’t owe these guys anything, other than respect.”
“Agreed,” piped up Dom. “There are plenty of guys out there who would be thrilled to date casually without the expectation of more.”
“Alright, last question,” I said. “This one is from Chris in Orlando, Florida. ‘I communicate more with actions than words. How do I make this work when I’m starting to date someone new?’”
“Oh god, the whole love languages thing is actually really relevant to this video,” Dom said.
“Love languages?” I asked.
“Yeah, like how some people like to communicate affection with words, while other people might prefer using gifts or actions. For instance, my housemate Finley is super verbal. He is constantly telling the rest of us how much he loves us and appreciates us. Leo, though, prefers to express himself through actions. He’s never once told me how he feels about our friendship, but he brings me food when I’m sick, and he cleans the bathroom because he knows the rest of us hate it. They’re both expressing affection, but in completely different ways,” Dom explained.
“That makes sense,” I said, turning back to the camera.
“I guess I would recommend telling the person you’re dating how you communicate affection, when it feels appropriate,” said Dom. “And also how you like to be shown affection, if you are able to articulate that.”
“TL;DR, use your words when you’re first with someone, and be open to learning how they communicate,” I said.
“I think that sums up the whole video,” Dom said, laughing. “Could’ve saved us a bunch of time if you’d just said that up front.”
I rolled my eyes affectionately. “Well, my sluts, that’s our show. Thanks so much for supporting us and sending in your amazing prompts and questions. Click the link in the description to check out Dom’s channel, and please subscribe to my channel as well if you haven’t already.”
7
Dom
I watched Smith as he turned off the camera.
God, he was beautiful. I wanted so badly to pull him into a sweet kiss, and ask could this potentially be something more than a one-night stand?
After all, that was what I had just instructed our viewers to do. Communication was the best way to avoid hurt feelings, to make your intentions clear…but I had a gnawing suspicion that Smith wouldn’t be able to give me the answer that I wanted.
He was fiddling with his microphones, his face turned away from me, and I ached for him to catch my gaze.
“That went great,” Smith said without looking over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” I agreed, running a hand through my hair. “Really great.”
“I hope you weren’t uncomfortable given…” Smith finally turned around and gestured between us.
“Given that you screwed my brains out last night?” I said lightly.
“Right, that,” sniffed Smith.
“It…kinda seems like we should take our own advice,” I ventured, voice trembling slightly.
He quirked up one eyebrow. “Which advice would that be?”
I shrugged trying to look nonchalant. I could tell based on his facial expression that I wasn’t succeeding.
“We should talk about…what comes next. I mean, we’re stuck in a honeymoon suite together, should I be expecting a repeat performance at some point?” I asked. My heart was pounding away in my chest. I hoped to god I sounded like it wasn’t a big deal to me, like I could take or leave another night with him. But the thought of never again getting to feel Smith’s body teasing pleasure out of my own was horrible.
He stared at me for a moment, clearly mulling it over in his mind.
“You know I don’t really ever sleep with the same person twice,” he said at last.
“Right,” I said, my heart sinking. Disappointment was welling within me, ice cold in my veins. But then he kept going.
“I like you Dom. I had a great time last night, and…I mean, I don’t want to lead you on or tease you. But I just…don’t know?” His voice rose almost comically high at the end.
“Don’t know what?” I asked, barely breathing. I couldn’t allow myself to hope, couldn’t put myself in the vulnerable position to get disappointed all over again. But…
“I don’t know if we should hook up again. I had such a good time last night. It’s just…kind of a policy of mine. That I keep it simple, never the same guy twice. And that’s the whole foundation of my channel, you know? It’s literally my livelihood,” he said.
“Makes it kind of awkward to share a bed for the rest of the week,” I said, looking down at the ground. “But I get it, I certainly can’t expect you to change your entire lifestyle for me. Maybe when we get back we should tell the hotel about their mistake.”
I felt so bad. It was absurd to feel so upset over a guy I’d just met, but it felt like a great loss.
“Oh,” said Smith, looking startled. “Oh…of course. If that’s—I mean, obviously you wouldn’t want to share a bed if we’re not…”
I shrugged, my eyes trained on my shoes. “It’s been fun, Jean-Paul, but I think our honeymoon might be over.”
“It’s probably for the best,” Smith said, his voice oddly stiff.
“Right,” I said, trying not to sound dejected. “Well, uh, I have a bunch of other videos I need to film today. Want to meet at the hotel around six? Then we can get checked into our own rooms before that cheese and wine thing in the ballroom.”
“Yeah,” said Smith, “okay. Whatever you want.”
Then he was turning away from me, pulling out his phone.
“I’m, uh, gonna take off,” I muttered. “Have to get over to the Eiffel tower.”
“See ya tonight,” Smith said without looking at me.
Across the bridge.
Down the stairs.
On the Metro.
Up the stairs.
Through several streets.
In front of the Eiffel Tower.
Everywhere I went that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about Smith. He was on my mind as I filmed the rest of my videos with other YourTubers, distracting me the entire time.
He doesn’t want you, I reminded myself harshly. Get over it before you waste your entire week in Paris mooning over some guy who’s not interested.
That was obviously easier said than done, and my heart continued to ache regardless of my inner monologue.
Why does this hurt so much? I wondered. We just met yesterday.
I didn’t have a logical answer, of course. There was just something about Smith that had made me fall hard and fast.
Get it together, Dom, I told myself. You’ll meet up with him tonight to come clean at the
hotel, and then you’ll never see the guy again.
But I was wrong. Paris had something amazing in store for me.
I arrived at the hotel that evening to find the lobby full of people milling around with drinks in their hands. Smith was nowhere to be seen, so I grabbed a champagne flute from a small table and downed it all in one go. The alcohol immediately began to fizz through my veins, making me feel light and bubbly. I glanced at the clock behind the front desk and then froze as the desk agent caught my eye.
It was the same woman who had checked Smith and I into the honeymoon suite. She was speaking with two middle-aged men, and her eyes widened as she realized who I was.
“Monsieur,” she called, beckoning me toward her.
My stomach clenched. This couldn’t be good.
“Me?” I asked, pointing at my own chest and raising my eyebrows.
She nodded, her expression darkening, and I began slowly walking toward the front desk.
“Parlez-vous français?” she asked.
I shrugged helplessly still clutching the empty flute in my hand. “Sorry, I don’t know any French.”
She switched to English immediately. “These gentlemen have arrived a day late for their honeymoon.”
My heart sank.
Oh god, oh god, oh god…
“They are wondering,” she continued, “why we have them already checked into the room in our system. Would you care to explain how you ended up in their suite?”
I gaped at her, my mind going completely blank. “I…we…I mean…”
“This is preposterous,” one of the honeymooners said in heavily-accented English, glaring at the desk agent. “With the amount we are spending on this suite, surely your staff can manage to keep track of which guests belong where.”
“I am so deeply sorry, Monsieur Chalamet,” the agent said. “This was a horrible mix-up, we will of course reimburse you for last night’s stay as well as tonight’s. And you,” she added, glaring at me. “You will leave the premises at once.”
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