on the L Taraval

i celebrate the end of the semester by hooking up with my old fuck buddy, tommy. he's an emotionally unavailable, straight-acting, cock sucking freak. i've sworn him off a hundred times, but for some reason the sex is always super hot. so i always get lured back into his world of endless text messages about swapping loads and throat fucking. but this time, instead of a text message, he calls. nice surprise. i think maybe something's changed, maybe he's growing as a person. he even let's me come to his place which has never happened in the two years that i've known him. he's discreet. now i'm excited, rushing out of my apartment before he calls to tell me it's not gonna work. or course he calls when i'm on bart and says his roommate is home, so we'll have to be really quiet. his room is so cultivated straight boy aesthetic. oakland raiders flag, 30 pairs of sneaks neatly lined up against the wall, computer desk pilled with vitamins and deodorant, flat screen tv. it's all about mtv jams. the sex is hot, and completely exhausting for some reason. i know he's going to tell me to leave. he's all nervous energy like that. every time after we've had sex before, he always looks at his watch and says shit i've got to go. so i'm resting, waiting, trying to cuddle, knowing what he's thinking. but i want more from him. i want him to be human and not straight-acting for a change. he says you know how i am. i say, yes, i do and that's why i'm fucking with you. you said you wanted three loads! but no he's too nervous about his roommate. he's never brought anyone over before. i want to ask him to be my boyfriend, but he pushes me out the door before i can get the words out. i took the L Taraval for this?