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I tease Julian for this—how when he comes, sometimes, he shudders my name, though we’re just friends. He comes hard, harder than anyone I’ve ever met; the spasms pulsing from his body into mine like a series of seismic transfers, leaving us pooled together in his bed.

When I was maybe eighteen I decided I didn’t want to say anyone’s name during sex. I didn’t care if they said mine. There wasn’t much chance of that happening anyway—I sped through relationships so fast that we hardly even knew each other. Most of the time in bed I moaned or swore Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, harder. Along the way I suppose I turned it into a kind of totem, names and their usage. I read The Little Prince years ago, and I think I conflated tame and name—

“Precisely,” said the fox. “To me, you are still only a small boy, just like a hundred thousand other small boys. And I have no need of you. And you in turn have no need of me. To you, I’m just a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you shall be unique in the world. To you, I shall be unique in the world.”

I never wanted to be needed by anyone, fox or man. “Tame me!” the fox cries. But I have no need for you.

It’s Friday, or Saturday, or something. Long Memorial Day weekend. I’m sitting with Julian on the roof of his apartment and we’re smoking a bowl. We get so baked I can’t stand up. The lights of the building across the street refract and break and shimmer. I tell him that they’re changing colors and I can see every secret in every room. High as shit, we stumble back downstairs and collapse into his bed; get through two episodes of Cowboy Bebop and then have the best fuck we’ve ever had. I’m incoherent under him, glassy with pleasure, my body a vise. I’m still coming tight around him when he pulls out. I feel his name in my mouth but I don’t let it out.

We’re stunned by how good it was, slide into a comfortable sleep next to each other. As an afterthought, almost to himself, Julian murmurs, “It’s because I fucked you like I loved you.”

In the morning I can feel his cock jumping against my stomach. It’s heavy.

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near…

“Ah,” said the fox, “I shall cry.”

“It is your own fault,” said the little prince. “I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you…”

“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.

“But now you are going to cry!” said the little prince.

“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.

“Then it has done you no good at all!”

“It has done me good,” said the fox, “because of the colour of the wheat fields.”

 

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