A Chance Visit

The day arrived. Some actual planned and wanted time with Matt, rather than a series of chance encounters. 

I woke up feeling well rested and refreshed. I usually woke up feeling good after a nice fuck, and last night had been really nice. 

I had my morning coffee, caught up on the news, and chatted to some friends. It was a nice lazy weekend morning. 

I stayed casual. A plain white t-shirt, some tight blue jeans and trainers. Regular trunk underwear. No jocks, no revealing vests, no short shorts. Casual. Calm. Relaxed. At least in appearance...

I got there a few minutes early - us gays need to keep up our punctual reputations - but Matt was already there! Keen. 

He had gone for the same casual look - t-shirt, jeans and trainers - but he pulled it off so much better than me. He wasn't insanely fit, like those guys that almost spend too much time on their body. No, he just gave you enough hints that underneath his clothes was a hot body of a hot guy. Maybe he was wearing a jock, I wondered as my eyes drifted down his body...

"Hey!" 

He saw me, stood up and initiated a warm hug. He really did just wrap around me in a snug fit that made you feel safe. And horny. Safely horny. 

"Hey Matt, nice to see you. How's your day going?"

"Really nice. I was delivering this morning."

"Anymore half naked horny girls?"

"Hahahaha thankfully not. It was *so* awkward. She looked offended, like she's not used to guys saying no. I think she thought I thought I was too hot for her."

"Maybe you were?"

"No! It's just not my style."

"Maybe some other delivery guy was lucky when he dropped off a package to her! Now, what would you like to drink?"

"You don't need to do that".

"Yes, I do. Because then you owe me, and your pride will make you stay for another".

I got us two coffees and sat back down. We enjoyed quite idle chat for a few minutes, about deliveries and weather. Matt had worked solely in the removals trade, first with his Dad and now solo when he retired, but COVID had dropped that line of work and he mixed it with deliveries.

All nice and simple so far. I think we were both maybe looking for a route into something more personal and relevant. 

Matt went for that sort of question first.

"Do you mind if I ask you questions about your personal life?"

"No, go for it. I'm open with people I respect and trust".

"Do you respect and trust me?"

"Of course I do".

"Ha. Suuuccckker". He said, playfully.

(God, if you only knew).

He continued. "My mate was a dick to you the other day. Is that common? How often do you get shit like that?"

"Nowadays, not so often. I've friends who grew up in the 70s and 80s. They had it bad. They used to get beaten up semi-regularly, and always just shouted at in the street. I don't get that nowadays much. The occasional comment, somebody threatened to punch me once for being a faggot, but I felt confident enough that he was all talk. He quickly backed off and walked away, shouting shit at me instead".

"I'm so sorry you need to do that, Tom". He looked genuinely hurt. 

"It's okay. I mean, it's not, but I'm comfortable. I can live my life. I can hold hands with who I want, I can kiss who I want, I can fuck who I want, and I can flaunt around town with a rainbow flag. Life's fine".

"Haha, well here's to people flaunting and fucking who they like". 

We clinked our coffee cups, smiling.

"And do you? Fuck and flaunt?"

"Yes. Well, sometimes. I'm quite relaxed about sex and sexuality. I don't think it's betrayal to find different people attractive and interesting. I don't know that I flaunt it much though". 

He smiled, understanding me.

"Do you mind that I'm like that?"

"No! God no. No judgement from me, and I'm interested to be honest."

"Thank you. Can I ask you a personal question in return?"

"Sure".

"Do you like to flaunt and fuck? I'm assuming that you're straight?"

He nodded.

"And yet you had a sexy woman offering herself to you this week, and you walked away?"

He took a deep breath, looking down at his mug. He looked quite pensive, almost as if he was struggling to answer. I quickly jumped in.

"You don't need to answer that if you don't want to".

"No, it's okay. I just don't talk about this stuff much. For some reason, I trust and respect you too". He smiled that cheeky smile again. 

"I've never really done the whole sleeping around thing. It's not my style. All my mates do, well most of them try to anyway. Not all of them succeed."

"All of them would have fucked that woman yesterday given half a chance. I just always preferred getting to know somebody properly first and respecting those boundaries."

"I fell in love quite early. I was 19. I was at a pub quiz with some mates and one of them brought a friend along." 

He was instantly smiling in that way that revealed love. 

"She sat next to me. Emma. She was gorgeous. She touched my shoulder as she introduced herself and I just fell weak at the knees. You know that feeling: how am I in the same room as somebody so beautiful?"

I smiled and nodded knowingly. 

"We just had a wonderful time all night. We did shit in the quiz! I don't think my mates were too happy that I was distracting this woman who probably knew quite a lot of the answers. But we didn't really care."

"She gave me her number at the end of the night and it took all my effort not to message her as soon as she left". 

"We just clicked instantly and within a few weeks we'd gone on holiday together and it was just excellent". 

"How old was she?" I asked.

"She was 20".

"A few months later, we'd moved in. I was still at home with my parents working for my Dad's removals firm. He's retired now and I've got the business. So yeah, my first time living with someone and it was her. And we never looked back really. Waking up next to her every morning was just wonderful mate. I know I sound soppy but it was just like a dream".

I smiled.

"I proposed to her the following summer. We went on holiday to a resort in Greece. The sun was setting and we were looking out over the sea. She said yes!"

"Of course she did. Who wouldn't?!"

"Ha. Thanks. We got married when I was 22 and she was 23".

He showed me a photo from their wedding day. They were a gorgeous couple.

"That's amazing. And young! How old are you now?"

"I'm 26". 

Matt wasn't wearing a wedding ring, and I don't think I'd seen him wearing one at any point. 

I didn't know exactly how this story would end, but I knew not happily.

"We were out one day and she very quickly just felt unwell. Awful headache, sick etc. We got home and she took painkillers and eventually she was okay, but it was something different to anything she'd had before". 

"A week later, the same again but this time worse. She couldn't see straight or look anywhere without feeling dizzy". 

"I got her to a GP the next day and he was quite worried by how quickly symptoms were developing and arranged a scan. Within a couple of days, she'd had a seizure and was rushed to A&E". 

"She died of a brain tumour three months later". 

I stayed silent and just looked at him. His expression was weary, like a man who'd told this story too many times, played it through his mind too many times, lived it too many times.

"Matt, I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry for making light of the encounter with that woman yesterday".

He smiled.

"Hey, that's fine. I'm just sorry for bringing the mood down from fucking and flaunting! There's no easy way to tell it."

"When did she die?"

"Two years ago. Just before the pandemic started". 

"And... I don't know what to ask. I have questions but... do you want to discuss this?"

"Yes. And no. Then yes. Ha. It's hard. Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course". I replied.

"My mates were as good as they can. We spent the pandemic playing video games online. I moved in with my brother, his wife and my niece, so I had company during lockdown. It was fine."

"But... none of them are that great when it comes to emotional stuff. And I don't think I am either. So I've sort of just built up a lot of stuff that I'm still making sense of it."

He continued: "You can obviously tell me to fuck off, but I got a sense that you're a good guy, and quite different to a lot of my friends". 

"You mean, I'm a slutty queer?" I smiled.

"Haha. Oh fuck. No. I don't know how to explain it. Just... nice. And understanding. I just got a vibe from you that we clicked and would get on".

"Thank you. I felt the same". I said.

"So I'm not here to just use you as a therapist or anything. If it feels like that, I'm sorry. We can end this now if you like".

"Of course not". I reached out and touched his arm. He held it with his hand momentarily, and I retreated to my coffee.

"But I just got a sense that we'd get on, and occasionally I might talk to you a bit more personally than I would with my mates. If that's okay". 

I smiled, nodding. 

"Alright. Good. Another coffee?"

I smiled again, nodded again. He went to bar, returning a few minutes later with two coffees and some cake.

"If I'm gonna burden you with dead wife stories, the least I can do is buy you cake". 

"Thanks. Can I ask another personal question? You're clearly not ready to shag a woman who wants something quick when you deliver a parcel. But... what are you ready for? How do you feel about..."

I was loathe to use the words, but Matt agreed it was the most accurate.

"... moving on"?

"I guess, yeah. How do you feel about feeling something for somebody else?"

"I don't know, honestly. Usually I'm thinking about it in the hypothetical, guessing how I'll feel in a moment that never happens. That woman this week, that was just never me anyway."

He paused, then continued.

"I hope you don't think this too weird, but the first time I did feel something like this was meeting you. And I don't mean anything physical by that".

"You can mean anything physical you like with me, Matt". I joked.

He smiled.

"I felt a warmth to you, as if I'd be comfortable being vulnerable around you. I've not really been vulnerable around anybody since Emma. Even with my brother, I've put on a brave face rather than open up."

"With you, I just had a feeling that I didn't need to worry about where a conversation would go. Sorry, I'm talking shit here".

"It's alright, Matt. I've wondered about what sort of guy you are. At times, I've probably unfairly given you the lad about town stereotype, and then I've been surprised you've been so nice to me. I can't imagine what you've gone through in the last couple of years. I feel a warmth towards you too. I won't lie that the first time I met you, that was in a "fuck me, you're hot" kind of way". 

He laughed, shyly.

"But more generally I've just found you somebody I like thinking about and I feel happy seeing you. So if you do feel comfortable opening up around me, I will do whatever I can to help. I don't know what that looks like in practice". 

"Me neither", Matt replied. "It might just be hanging out and seeing where conversation takes us."

"I'd like that. I don't mean this jokingly, but I guess I don't mean it super seriously either... are you comfortable being vulnerable around me, a gay guy who happens to think you stunningly beautiful?"

"You think me stunningly beautiful?"

"Ha. I think you're a gorgeous, gorgeous man. I guess the difference between me and the delivery woman is that I respect the rest of you too". 

He went a bit red, but with the very quiet confidence of a man who had been told this before. 

"Thanks Tom. No, I don't care one bit about your sexuality, except that I respect it. Part of me maybe feels more comfortable, truth be told. I like that you felt you could touch my arm before. I like that it can just be relaxed without necessarily having to mean anything."

"I think this conversation is probably a fair indication that we're comfortable around each other". I suggested.

He smiled. From there, our conversation drifted through a few other pleasantries and details. We agreed that we would hang out sometime soon.

We got up to say our goodbyes, and we had a warm embrace. Matt held the hug for longer than I'd have expected. Today had shown a greater warmth and commitment to each other than I ever might have expected. 

"Thank you, Tom. I don't know why, but I feel a bit of a weight off my mind."

We went our separate ways, and I walked home reflecting on how I felt about him. When he'd left my sight previously, I'd had erections, felt lust, intrigue... and now, I just realised I'd met an extraordinarily resilient man who had decided to put some trust in me. 

To think I'd felt the need to have sex just to suppress my horn, when this guy had probably spent last night wondering how to tell me about the love of his life and how he misses her. 

And yet he wanted to. He felt something for me that he'd not felt for close people in his life. It was nearly enough to bring me to tears.