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Alex had no idea why he’d agreed to go along with this. Like so many single people, he was enjoying his freedom. After seven years of living with Paul, he could now watch what he wanted, go to bed when he wanted, spend weekends in his pyjamas reading obscure books on ancient Greece, or tragic obscure gay poets, without Paul calling him a freak and demanding he went clubbing, knowing full nightclubs were his idea of hell.
But as normal, with single people, his loved-up friends were convinced he was lonely and had to get back on the dating horse. His friends Jamie and Katie had persuaded him to go to The View, a restaurant at The Shard that was holding a blind date night, and to make sure he went, they had turned up at his flat – partly so Jamie could make the most of the Nintendo Paul had left behind, and Katie could offer sartorial advice. Alex was now sitting on his bed after getting out the shower, trying to blow dry his hair in peace, while his friend rifled through his wardrobe, tutting with disapproval.
“You really are the world’s most boring dresser,” she sighed in her sing-song Scouse accent. “You dress like a geography teacher.”
“I am a geography teacher!” Alex turned off the hairdryer and looked in the mirror to check for grey hairs.
“You don’t have to dress like one.” Katie turned around holding a pair of bootcut jeans Paul bought him but he’d never worn. “Why have I never seen you in these?”
“They’re too tight in the legs. I don’t like how they look.”
Katie threw them on the bed.
“Well you’re putting them on tonight.”
“What have you told this Miles about me? I don’t want him thinking I’m some sort of swinger.”
Katie returned to rifling through his shirts.
“Who even says swingers these days?”
“Swingers?”
“You’re thirty-eight, stop acting like you’re seventy eight.”
She took out a cream coloured shirt Alex didn’t even remember buying. It might have been one of Paul’s….
“That’s nice. Wear that with the jeans.” She moved onto his few decent jackets. “I haven’t spoken to him myself. Our Belinda’s the one who knows him. He sounds very nice. He’s down here looking to make friends. Besides, he’s a musician. You used to play guitar.” “A hundred years ago, when I wanted to be a rock star.”
“Yeah, it’s probably a good thing that never happened. You’d bore the audience to death.” She pulled the navy blue blazer Alex liked to wear for special occasions. “Celine! How come you have a Celine blazer!”
“Should that mean something?”
“What am I gonna do with you, Alex Turner?”
“Me and Paul went to one of those designer outlet places in Hertfordshire. I liked the look of it,”
“Well you’re wearing it tonight. If you look decent you’re half-way there to getting him to like you.”
Alex didn’t like heights, and he hated the thought of going to a restaurant that was thirty storeys in the air with panoramic views all over London. He’d have much preferred a discreet little bistro in the West End, that was preferably candlelit, and dark enough for him to escape without being noticed.
His legs were shaking as he got out of the lift and walked to the restaurant. This was a concept night called ‘At First Sight’ where mutual friends contacted the restaurant with scant details about the single friend, and they got to meet for the first time in an environment where everyone else was in the same boat, to help ease the awkwardness. All Alex could imagine was the horror of being stuck with a load of other reluctant singletons looking at their watches, willing the evening to end. He even considered messaging one of his other friends, getting them to call him with a pretend emergency, just so he could leave early.
He entered the restaurant and was overwhelmed by a cacophony of noise. It was worse than a classroom full of bored fifteen year olds on a sunny Friday afternoon. Every table was occupied, some by people on their own, others with couples. It was a mixed event, which made Alex feel better, never one to be particularly into the ‘gay scene’. He didn’t like labels; he just liked to be himself.
He was approached by one of the waiters, he looked like a male model and towered over the diminutive Alex.
“Hi I’m Fritz,” he said in a strong German accent. He looked very Aryan with his blonde hair, blue eyes and perfect cheekbones. “Who are you here for?”
“Er, Miles. He’s a musician. My friend didn’t tell me his surname. I’m Alex.”
Fritz looked at his iPad.
“We only have one Miles here. Follow me.”
Alex’s heart pounded so hard as he followed Fritz through the restaurant, that the sound in his ears helped deaden the noise of the other diners.
They reached a table close to the window, and Alex was more transfixed with terror at how high up they were, and that the trains going into London Bridge Station were so small, they looked like toys, that he didn’t pay much attention to the man at the table, who was currently bending down, fiddling with something.
“I’ll throttle the little bugger,” he was muttering.
“Miles,” Fritz said. “This Alex.”
He sat up, and Alex didn’t know what to say or do. The first thing that struck him was how gay he looked. His dark hair was in a buzzcut, there was designer stubble, and silver sleeper in his left ear. He was wearing a biker jacket and a white vest that might as well have ‘I am a homosexual’ emblazoned across it. He looked equally disappointed in Alex. His father pretty face falling, his big hazel eyes scanning Alex like a disapproving laser.
“Oh,” was all he said, his lips pursed.
Always polite, Alex offered his hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
Miles shook his hand, his long fingers squeezing Alex’s palm; but his skin was sweaty, giving away that he was more nervous than he came across. Alex sat opposite him, and was glad when Fritz spoke. At least it broke the tension.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.
“Rum and coke, ta,” Miles said. His Scouse accent was softer than Katie’s. “Dark rum. Make it a double.”
“I’ll have a small glass of house red,” Alex said. “Thank you.”
He turned back to find Miles looking down at his shoes.
“Is everything okay?” Alex asked.
“It’s me dog, Maxie. Little git chewed the laces of me trainers. I didn’t realise till I got here.”
“Didn’t you notice when you put them on?”
“I just slipped me feet in. I was in a hurry. Now I see I look a right tit.”
He sat back up and looked at Alex. He was very good looking, there was no doubt about that, but he reminded Alex of all those scary, in your face gay guys who intimidated him. They always seemed angry at the world for not accepting them, whereas Alex preferred to behave like everyone else and hope that people would just see him as a regular person.
“You’re different to what I was expecting,” Miles said. “I was expecting you to be tanned and rugged from all your travels.”
“Well, I went to Puglia in April, but the tan’s faded I’m afraid.”
“But you travel for work?”
“Hahaha no. People always think that. I mean, English Literature teachers haven’t read every book in existence. They just read notes.”
Miles furrowed his heavy brows, jutting his chin forward.
“Come again?”
“People always think because I’m a geography teacher I must be some sort of intrepid traveller. I’m not. Most exciting trip I ever did was Thailand for two months after I graduated.”
“But you’re a travel writer.”
“No I’m not. I’m a geography teacher.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“I’m a geography teacher, not a travel writer.”
“You’re Al, a travel writer. Lives in Fulham. Likes motorbikes and classic rock?”
“No, I’m Alex. I’m a teacher. I live in Bethnal Green and I drive an Audi. I do like classic rock, though. You’re Miles, a violinist with the philharmonic?”
Miles clapped his hands and gave a loud cackle, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Hell no, I’m a session musician. I play guitar.”
Alex couldn’t help but laugh too.
“I thought you were one of those trendy classical musicians who want to look like rock stars.”
“I’ve never played violin in me life. Sorry mate, I think there’s been a mix up.”
“No, I’m sorry, I’ll wait at the bar till my proper date turns up.”
His face softened a little, and suddenly those big eyes were filled with kindness, contrasting his rough and ready image.
“No, don’t go. It’s alright. We can have a drink till our Mister Rights turn up, can’t we?”
“I’d like that, why not.”
As if on cue, Fritz brought their drinks. Alex took a big sip of the rather bitter tasting wine to give him courage. After all, he was going to have to go through this all over again, once the real Miles turned up. It was a shame really, he was just starting to feel comfortable with this one.
“Whereabouts in Bethnal Green do you live?” Miles asked, sipping the sweet smelling rum, making Alex wish he’d ordered one too.
“Wells Street, just off the High Street.”
Miles laughed and pointed to himself.
“Kennedy Street. Next one along from you.”
“What a small world? Have you lived in London long? The real Miles….the one I’m meeting tonight, has just moved down from Liverpool. That’s why I thought you were him.”
“I’m from the Wirral. I left twenty years ago.” He narrowed his eyes in contemplation. “South Yorkshire….Sheffield? Doncaster?”
“Sheffield. Good guess.”
“I’ve played every city from Lands End to John O’Groats, you pick up accents.”
“I envy you. I was in a band in high school. Me and three pals.”
“What were you called?”
“Barely Legal. I just wanted to be one of The Strokes, basically. I know that’s probably hard to imagine now.”
“I dunno.” Miles took another sip. “Maybe there’s a tiger hiding under the mild-mannered exterior.”
“No, I really am this dull. That’s why my ex dumped me.”
“Cos you’re boring?”
“Yeah.”
“What was he expecting you to do? Or is that too personal?”
“He’s a bit older than me and he was having a mid-life crisis. He wanted to get back on the scene. Go clubbing, bring other guys home. He even wanted us to start an Only Fans account. Reckoned there’s a niche for more mature guys. I refused to do any of it. So he left me for a judo instructor called Axel.”
“Axel?” Miles snorted. “As in A X E and L?”
“Yeah.”
“And anagram of your name?”
“I never thought of that before.”
“He sounds a twat. You’re better off without him.”
“I quite like being single.”
“Me too. It’s just that me mate made this Al sound like some sort of Adonis.”
“Instead you got stuck with me.”
“I never said that. You’re handsome in a sort of….geography teacher way.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Alex blushed.
“So, any of the lads or lassies got crushes on you?”
“There’s this one girl, Demi. She knows I’m gay….it’s no secret. But she keeps finding excuses to stay behind in class, and she’ll start talking about her cousin Harry’s wedding, and how he was gay but he was cured by the power of prayer.”
“Bet he’s on Grindr the minute his missus goes to bed.”
“I bet he is.”
Miles unconsciously licked his lips, and Alex’s tummy fluttered a little. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was how comfortable Miles made him feel, but he realised he was attracted to him. He was sexy and edgy and it was natural. Not like Paul, who managed a branch of Lush in Westfield’s, but thought he was dangerous because he got his left nipple pierced.
Suddenly they were interrupted by a voice.
“I’m so sorry, there’s been a mix up.”
They both looked up, the waiter was standing next to a colossus of a man who looked like Henry Cavill. Alex straight away knew this was the real Al, and he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“I sent you to the wrong table,” Fritz said to Alex. He then looked at Miles. “This is Al. He’s your actual date.”
Alex went to stand up, but Miles kicked him under the table. He looked up at the hunk with an annoyed expression.
“You’re half an hour late,” he said.
“There were delays on the trains,” Al said.
“And you couldn’t think to call me? No interested. Sorry.”
“Come on, guy.” Alex realised he was South African – his accent far more exotic than plain old High Green. “Half an hour…” he looked at Alex. “Sorry Buddy….”
“He ain’t going anywhere,” Miles said. “You can go. I’m very strict on time keeping.”
“Well screw you.”
Al walked out, and Fritz started flapping around.
“I’ll give you a bottle of wine as an apology,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He scurried off and Alex looked at Miles.
“Why’d you tell him to go away? He was gorgeous.”
“In a brainless sort of way. I was hoping you’d keep me company till your date turns up.”
Alex blushed again. Miles was way out of his league, and to be chosen by him was the sort of ego boost Alex hadn’t had in a long time.
“I’m not sure the other Miles is coming now.”
“Never mind, eh?”
“Are you really that strict on timekeeping?”
“Nah, I just needed an excuse to get rid of him.”
“So, is that your type? Tall and rugged?”
“Not really. But I’ve had a bit of a dry spell, so I thought I’d try someone new. Italian men are my weakness….the thick dark hair….the big brown eyes….”
He let that hang in the air and Alex giggled nervously. Whilst he wasn’t a swarthy Italian, he certainly had the thick dark hair and big brown eyes.
“You’re lovely,” Miles said.
“Don’t be silly,” Alex laughed. “You’re taking the piss.”
“You can’t take a compliment.”
“I don’t get that many.”
“I find that hard to believe. You probably just don’t notice.”
“I spent so long being put down by Paul, I kind of believed it.”
A sixth sense made Alex turn around. By the bar, Fritz was talking to another man. He was tall and reedy and looked like a total dweeb in a suit that was two sizes too big. He was looking over at Alex and Miles and Fritz was gesturing in an apologetic manner. Instinct told Alex this was ‘his’ Miles. He panicked. He didn’t want to be with him, but he didn’t have the front to tell him to go away.
The devil took him over. He got his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a twenty pound note, putting it under his glass.
“What’s that for?” Miles asked.
“Our drinks.”
Alex grabbed Miles’ hand and pulled him out of his chair. He dragged him out of the restaurant, Miles stumbling behind.
“What’s going on?” Miles asked once they were out of the restaurant and walking to the lift lobby.
“I think my Miles just turned up.”
They reached the lift bank and Alex pressed the call button several times. He then realised what he’d done and how thoughtless he’d been.
“I’m so sorry, Miles…..did you want to stay? I just didn’t want to be lumbered with him.”
The restaurant doors opened and the dweeb came out.
“Alex?”
At that moment, the lift arrived, and Alex pushed Miles in, pressing the door close button. The other Miles had just reached them as the doors swished closed, and they started descending. Alex and Miles looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” Alex said. “What must he think of me?”
Miles leaned against the side of the lift, close to Alex, his lovely eyes wandering over Alex in a much more appreciative way, now.
“Do you care?” he asked.
“Not really.”
For a moment time froze, then Miles slipped his hand round the back of Alex’s neck, pulling him close. Their lips brushed, but they were halted by a sudden jolt, and the lift stopped moving. Alex panicked. Getting stuck in a lift was his worst fear. He pulled away from Miles and started pacing around.
“What’s happening?”
“The lift’s broken down. They’ll soon get it working again.”
Alex looked up at the digital display above the door. Instead of giving the floor number, it just said ‘ERROR’
“We’re going to die!” he fretted. “We’re going be stuck here forever, or the cables will snap and we’ll plummet to the ground!”
Miles calmly went to the control panel and pressed the alarm button. A voice came through the intercom.
“Lift control…” a male voice said. “Have you broken down?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what floor we’re on?”
“You’re calling from Lift A. We’ll soon have you moving.”
“What if they can’t move us?” Alex panicked. “What about that girl in China who disappeared in a lift?”
“Shshh,” Miles said. He took Alex’s hand and sat down on the floor, pulling him down with him. “Just relax, this probably happens every day.”
Alex felt foolish. Just when Miles was starting to fancy him, he’d ruined it by acting like a tit.
“Sorry.”
“We’ve all got phobias. I’m scared of being trapped underground. Only Londoner who won’t travel by tube.”
“Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
Alex realised they were still holding hands, when he felt Miles running his thumb over his knuckle.
“I like you. I’m glad I came here tonight.”
“Me too. I feel so awkward doing this sort of thing. I’ve never really dated. I met my first boyfriend at uni and we were together for six years, then I was with my boyfriend Scott for five years, then Paul for seven years.”
“Wow, you’re practically a virgin!”
Alex laughed out loud.
“I don’t think so. I’ve slept with three men!”
“Crikey. When I first came out, I’d sometimes have three guys in a week!”
“So you’ve never had a long term relationship?”
“Longest was about two years. Guy called Carlo.”
“Italian?”
“Yeah. I get my head turned by all that machismo.”
“Why do you like me then?”
He looked at Alex and smiled.
“You’re different. You’re sweet and gentle. And I’m one for vibes. I get nice vibes from you. I bet you love animals…”
“I do, yeah. Me and Scott had a cockapoo called Billy. When we split up I was more upset about losing Billy than I was Scott.”
“You’d like Maxie then. The little git.”
“What breed is he?”
“Westie cross. I rescued him last year. I take him everywhere I can. He’s even got his own water bowl at The Bell.”
“You drink in The Bell?”
“Yeah.”
“So do I. Why have I never seen you before?”
“No idea. We were obviously meant to meet tonight.”
Suddenly there was a ping and the display board said ‘23’ indicating the next floor. The lift started to move again, but neither Alex or Miles stood up.
“How you getting back to Bethnal Green?” Miles asked.
“I’ll get the three eight eight bus.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Course not.”
The lift reached the ground floor, and they finally stood up. Alex wondered what would happen when they got back to Bethnal Green. Should he suggest they go for a drink? He didn’t want to say goodnight but he didn’t want to force the issue – just in case it was no more than a flirtation to Miles.
They crossed over to London Bridge Station. The area was still busy with after work drinkers, making the most of the late evening sunshine. Alex liked walking alongside Miles. He stood out, and both men and women gave him admiring looks and Alex couldn’t help but hope people thought they were boyfriends.
“So has tonight put you off blind dates?” Miles asked when they reached the bus stop, sitting next to each other on the narrow red plastic seat.
“No, I don’t think it has. Although I guess no one else is going to be like you.” He couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.
Miles looked at him and smiled.
“I’m very flattered.”
Alex found his eyes wandering down to Miles’ pretty, bow shaped lips. He wanted to kiss them. In fact, if they hadn’t been in public, he would have done.
“Would you like to meet Max?” Miles asked.
“I’d love to.”
“I might have a decent bottle of wine knocking about if you fancied a glass.”
“That stuff in the restaurant tasted like vinegar.”
“I always insist on the best, dear,” Miles said campily and it made Alex laugh.
“You’ve got a beautiful smile,” Miles said quietly. “I wish I could kiss you.”
There was nothing Alex wanted more. Would he sleep with him tonight? He wasn’t sure. He’d never had a one night stand and he still couldn’t imagine using someone for sex. But he hadn’t had it in months, and Miles was so sexy…
“It seems like forever since anyone kissed me.”
“Maybe I should remedy that.” He looked around to make sure no one was looking, then jutted his head forward, kissing Alex briefly on the lips. It made him giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Last time I kissed someone at a bus stop was when I was fifteen and dating this girl called Emma,” he said.
“You’ve had girlfriends, then?”
“Just Emma. I pretty much knew I was gay, and I had cool Liberal parents, but you know you always have that in you, don’t you? That need to conform. Emma’s now married to a human right’s lawyer called Angela.”
Miles gasped and gripped his face.
“You turned her gay!”
“Yep, one kiss from me and she never wanted to go near another man again.”
“Strange, because you’ve got such kissable lips.”
The bus pulled up and Alex and Miles got on. The paranoid part of Alex’s brain questioned what the hell he was doing. Miles was a stranger and he was going home with him. What if he was a serial killer? What if there was no Max and he was just a ploy to get unsuspecting men to go home, where he could murder them and chop their bodies up?
They sat together, Alex near the window. Miles deliberately spread his legs so his thigh pressed against Alex’s, and suddenly the paranoia didn’t seem so strong and he stopped thinking with his brain. Miles was so bold and cheeky, he wondered what he’d be like in bed. He’d been with a lot of men and must have picked up a lot of tricks….
“So, er, is it just you and Max then?” he asked, trying to keep conversation light. “At home?”
“It is at the moment. Yazz, my housemate’s in Dubai. She’s a dancer in a show over there. What about you? You live alone?”
“Yeah. It’s just a little one bedroom flat.”
“I brought me house with the royalties from Exodus.”
“The Bob Marley record?”
As soon as the words left Alex’s mouth, he cringed. Miles burst out laughing, which then caused him to laugh too at his own stupidity. They laughed so loud, the old woman in the seat behind them started tutting.
“Yes love,” Miles said once he’d calmed down a bit. “I played on an album that was recorded before I was even born.”
“I’m such a twat.”
“At least you’re self aware.”
“Bastard!”
“No, I co wrote most of the Exodus album. The one by Darryl Jones.”
“He’s one of the biggest stars on the planet.”
“I was also dirty little secret for over a year. I was hired just to play guitar, but he had writer’s block, so I hoped him with that…as well as other things. But his management didn’t want the world to know he’d had a co-writer, and more to the point, was gay, so I got a pay off and two percent of the royalties.”
“You’ve lived such an exciting life. I don’t think I’ve even met anyone famous.”
“You’re not missing much. Your job is much more worthwhile. I did actually consider becoming a music teacher for a while.”
“So, in another universe, you’d be a teacher and I’d be a musician.”
“You’re right,” Miles nodded.
“Maybe we’re not so different after all.”
The bus reached Bethnal Green, and Alex felt nervous as they walked to Miles’ house in the next street down from his own. The fear added to the excitement, but he still questioned his sanity.
“I don’t normally do this sort of thing,” he said as they walked past the row of terraced houses towards Miles’ place.
“What? Go home with strangers to see their dogs?” Miles smirked.
“Yeah! My mum always did warn me about not getting into cars with men who wanted to show me their puppies!
“And here you are, ignoring her!”
They reached his house; it was neat and well-kept with topiary trees either side of the door. As soon as Miles put the key in the door, there was a series of yaps, and Alex relaxed a little.
Miles opened the door, and as he stepped in, a cute little white dog with scruffy fur came hurtling towards him. Miles bent down and petted him.
“Hello Trouble,” he said softly. He bent over and picked Max up and turned to face Alex.
“Say hello to Uncle Alex,” he said.
Alex ruffled the gorgeous pup’s fur and tickled his ears.
“Hello Max,” he said. “You’re so cute.”
“Just like his dad,” Miles quipped, walking into the lounge.
The house was neat and tidy and very modern, with wooden floors, an expensive stereo and film posters on the walls. Alex felt like an excitable kid when he saw Miles’ electric guitars propped up on stands in the dining room.
“You’ve got a Telecaster,” he said. “That was my first guitar.”
“Mine too,” Miles said, walking into the kitchen. “It’s falling apart though, now.”
He put Max down and opened the back door. The little dog scurried out into the lawned garden and promptly cocked his leg up a bush.
Miles turned around and looked at Alex.
“You can take your jacket off if you want. Don’t want a Celine getting red wine all over it.”
“Why does everyone keep going on about it being Celine? It’s just a jacket I got at a designer outlet cos I liked the cut.”
“You’re funny,” Miles chuckled. He walked over to Alex and grasped the collar of his jacket, easing it off and laying it on the table. He then gripped the top of Alex’s arms. His grip was strong and reassuring. Instead of kissing him on the mouth, he went for his neck, covering it with soft kisses. Alex’s knees went weak and his dick got hard, reminding him how long it had been since he was touched.
“That feels very nice,” he uttered.
“Does it?” Miles whispered in his ear, causing shivers to run down his spine. Miles pulled away and looked at him. As their eyes met, something shifted in Alex, and he felt as though he was in the place where he was always meant to be. Weird given Miles was a virtual stranger.
“Can I kiss you properly now?” Miles whispered.
“Yes please….”
Miles buried his fingers in the short hairs at the nape of Alex’s neck and pulled him to him. Alex wasn’t sure if he’d ever wanted to kiss someone more in his life. Miles was so sexy, it was hard to resist him. As their tongues hungrily explored his each other’s mouths, Alex couldn’t resist touching him, pushing off his leather jacket, running his hands over his muscular back, stroking his soft, fuzzy hair.
Miles pushed Alex back against the kitchen table, and without thinking, Alex opened his legs, wrapping them around Miles’ hips. He regretted wearing those bootcut jeans, they were so tight, he felt as though he was going to burst out of them.
As if he could read his mind, Miles pulled away and reached down, unbuttoning the jeans, pulling the shirt out, then pulling them down along with Alex’s shorts. It was a relief for everything to be free.
Miles dropped to his knees and looked up at Alex with a playful smile. Before Alex could tell him to stop, because the back door was open and anyone could have seen or heard, he was inside Miles’ mouth and he was doing such wonderful things to him, Alex didn’t care.
Miles certainly knew what he was doing. Alex had been given head many many times before, but there was something different about Miles. Maybe it was the little groans of pleasure in the back of his throat as he sucked, letting Alex know how much he was enjoying it, or the way he looked up at Alex, making sure they kept eye contact, which made it more intense.
Soon, any thoughts of the neighbours seeing or hearing were gone from his mind as he leaned back gasping in pleasure while Miles used his mouth and those long, elegant fingers on him. With a cry, he came, Miles continuing to suck him until he had nothing left to give.
“That was amazing,” he panted. “Thank you.”
Miles stood back up and kissed him again, and Alex could taste himself on Miles’ lips. He then pulled away and stroked Alex’s face.
“I owe Fritz a big thank you,” he said.
“What for?” Alex panted.
“For bringing you to me.”
They brought Max in from the garden, gave him some food, and shared a glass of wine while he settled in his bed. Alex didn’t know what was going to happen now, but he prayed Miles wasn’t going to send him home. He wanted to spend the night with him; but despite Miles just giving him an epic blow job, he felt shy about asking if he could stay. Once Max was snoring happily, Miles took Alex’s hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom. They sat on the bed and Miles undid Alex’s shirt, slipping his hand around his waist and pulling him to him, kissing his neck.
“Would it shock you if I told you I don’t fuck on first dates?” he whispered. “I’m an old fashioned girl.”
Alex laughed, nuzzling himself closer to Miles.
“I don’t mind. I haven’t prepped or anything. I wasn’t counting on getting fucked tonight, anyway.”
Miles laughed and pulled away from him.
“Thank God for that. I was scared you were one of those mild-mannered tops.”
“Me! A top! You are joking.”
Miles pushed Alex’s shirt from his shoulders and helped him off with it. Alex wondered what he thought of his body. Miles was ripped and fit, whereas Alex hadn’t been to the gym in months and he felt puny in comparison.
Soon Miles was kissing him again, his hands exploring him, and Alex relaxed. He wasn’t quite sure what Miles saw in him, but it was wonderful, especially once they were both naked, lying together, exploring each other’s bodies. Alex revelled in touching and kissing Miles’ six pack and his muscular thighs, thinking back to Paul, who’d been turning to flab. Miles was strong and dominant, and soon had Alex on his back, pinning him down, lying between his legs with their dicks pressed together. As they thrust against each other, Alex found himself longing for Miles to fuck him. It had been so long. For the last year of their relationship, a handjob or the occasional blow-job had been the most him and Paul could muster. But Miles was powerful and passionate, and as Alex got closer to the point of no return, he fantasised about Miles fucking him hard, hurting him and yet taking him to the height of ecstasy at the same time.
They came within moments of each other, collapsing in a heap on the bed. Miles still on top of Alex, panting.
“Stay the night,” he said.
“I’d love to.”
“Stay forever.”
Alex went to ask him what he meant by that, but his body became heavier and he started snoring down Alex’s ear. It was uncomfortable, and their bodies were sticky and sweaty, but Alex felt content in a way he hadn’t in a long time.
He awoke to sloppy kisses on the mouth. Opening his eyes he was greeted with a cute white fluffy face against his….Max.
“Maxie that’s enough.”
Miles picked the pup up and put him down the end of the bed. Alex blinked himself awake properly and saw Miles was lying on his side, looking at him. It was daylight.
“What time is it?” Alex yawned.
“Just gone eleven.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry. Did you have plans?”
“I usually take Maxie for a long walk round Victoria Park on a Saturday morning. Fancy joining us?”
Alex couldn’t hide his excitement at the fact Miles wanted him around a bit longer.
“I’d love to.”
“Then maybe we could have some lunch in The Bell.”
“Where Maxie has his own water bowl….”
“You remembered.”
“Everything about last night will be etched on my memory forever, it was magical.”
Miles smiled and leaned forward, kissing Alex tenderly on the lips. Alex never wanted to be away from him again. As crazy as that seemed – even to himself, he’d never believed in love at first sight, but maybe it did exist.
“You’re beautiful,” Miles said softly. “Paul was mad to let you go.”
“Even though I’m boring?”
“You’re not boring, you’re lovely. You must have made an impression, I dreamt about you last night. I never dream about fellas I go out with.”
“You dreamt about me? What were we doing?”
“We were pirates.”
“Pirates?!”
“Yeah, crazy. Don’t know where that came from.”
The End