Work Text:
Decathlon is not a shop he’d usually find himself in and as soon as Martin steps off the mat he’s sure he’s going to get lost. This particular one is huge, multiple floors, and he sighs as he resigns himself to finding a sign rather than asking an employee.
It takes him fifteen minutes to navigate the confusing escalators and sections and make it past a load of children running around in tennis trainers to find what he’s actually looking for.
He could probably do with a new waterproof and maybe a hat for the trip too, but honestly just picking up the wellies has been enough of an ordeal and they’re stupidly awkward to carry. He’d much rather just leave and get a coat some other day, leave it to future Martin to struggle through. His living room and kettle are calling as he tries to make it past a group playing kick about with an inflatable ball and get back to the escalators.
The queue is long but pretty fast moving since they’ve got a few cashiers on. Martin fiddles with his phone absently, checking the bus times before the automated voice calls him over.
Cashier number six please.
He heads over to the checkout with his head still low, only looking up to smile politely and -
Holy shit.
The cashier grins back at him as he says something that could have been ‘do you need a bag’ and he might well be the most attractive man Martin’s ever seen in his entire life.
For a long second he just stares and is fully aware that he’s staring but there’s not a lot else he can do when the man is gorgeously tan and has dark hair flopping round his cheekbones like a 90s heartthrob and deep brown eyes that squint as he smiles and oh my god he has a dimple -
‘Sorry,’ Martin blinks, pulling out his headphones, ‘um, what?’
The cashier - who’s name tag says ‘Tim’ - grins again. Which is very nice of him - Martin knows from experience that he definitely puts up with idiots not listening to him all day.
‘No worries,’ he says easily, ‘I said ‘d’you need a bag?’’
‘Oh!’ Martin nods stupidly, ‘yes, right. I mean no - I brought one.’
He cringes as he pulls out his tote bag and wonders if this is the worst interaction he’s ever had in a retail establishment or it just feels that way because he’s cashier has such perfect teeth .
‘Nice one,’ Tim says like he isn’t being an idiot, ‘save the planet.’
He blips the wellies through somewhat awkwardly and taps a couple of times on his till.
‘They for anything special?’
Small talk? Martin wanders, really? This guy is a saint. He’d never bothered with it when he’s on shift - not like he’s working for tips. But -
‘Yeah actually,’ he replies, finding himself smiling because Tim's grin is completely infectious. ‘I’m going to the Lake District.’
‘Oh cool! Some corporate retreat thing or? Romantic getaway.’
‘Ha,’ Martin scoffs, before remembering that’s probably a bit rude since the cashier at Decathlon is hardly going to be an expert in his shitty romantic history.
Tim tilts his head as he taps away in a way that could be sympathetic or curious, and either way is somehow compelling Martin to want to tell him the truth, despite being a bit embarrassed by it still.
‘No, um. It’s actually a poetry thing? Writing retreat.’
And he’s very excited about it. His first payday that he’d spent booking something for himself that he’s really looking forward to. A small room in a nice lodge and the group leader seemed really nice and who knows, he might write something good. He might actually meet some nice people and be able to talk to them. But he knows it seems a bit lame and he’s fully prepared to have to defend his art form with sarcasm or snark if necessary.
But Tim just nods and smiles like he’s actually interested as he packs the boots into Martin’s tote. ‘That sounds cool. Not sure where the wellies come into it though.’
‘We’re still going to walk,’ Martin explains with a laugh. ‘You can’t go to the Lake District and just sit indoors.’
‘No,’ Tim nods, ‘I quite agree.’
‘It’s the walks that inspire the writing.’
‘Right, gotcha.’ He doesn’t lose his charm as he goes back to customer service mode and that takes skill. ‘That’s nine ninety-nine then. D’you have a membership card?’
‘I uh, I don't come into sports stores often.’
‘Fair do’s, it’s pretty shit anyway to be honest,’ Tim says with a wink.
Tell him your name, the overconfident rom-com obsessed impulsive part of Martin’s brain screams at him from its home under several muffling sheets. Leave your number. Ask when his shift’s over. Do something.
But he doesn’t, and then Tim is saying ‘cheers,’ as he folds up the receipt and slots it into the bag. ‘Have a good one!’
‘Yeah,’ Martin blinks, trying to smile as wide, to be polite even as he’s reconciling to defeat. ‘You too. Thanks!’
Shit. Well.
Almost as soon as he's out of the shop Martin ducks into a spot in the wall and pulls his phone out. Cringing over how fucking creepy he is, sheltering with his wonky tote bag stalking some poor innocent employee who was just being nice, he opens grindr first. Optimistic? Yes, but probably the most effective. First he sets the distance to 200 meters - not sure how big the store is - then starts to scroll.
Abs, abs, no photo, cute guy who he could feasibly like for later if he didn't have a one track mind, BDSM request, oh the manager at the Waterstones over the road, that's interesting.
He's just starting to lose hope or widen the distance before he swipes to find TJS - a tan guy, about the right height, stood faceless in front of a mirror in what looks like a climbing centre. His shirt is sleeveless and sideless and loose enough to drape revealingly over the shape of chest. The profile reads:
32. Putting the ‘ual’ in ‘bisexual’. Do NOT send cock pics if u can’t handle honest reviews x
It could be him? Martin’s pretty sure it is. God, is it worse if it isn’t? His thumb hovers over the screen. Well, even if it’s not he’s still good looking, right?
Which means it’ll probably come to nothing.
But it does mean it would be a good thing to try and match, surely? He’s been trying to be more outgoing.
Before he can scare himself off or convince himself he's got the wrong guy, Martin likes the profile and immediately shuts off his phone. He walks fast enough to make the next train and tries to forget about Tim the cute cashier and tries not to feel too embarrassed about how badly he’s failing.
That evening his phone buzzes and he almost drops the spoon he's absentmindedly clinking in his mug. The notification sound is unmistakable but still as he creeps towards it he's sure there must be some mistake. It’s probably someone else, or more likely its TJS telling him to fuck off.
It isn’t. It is in fact TJS sending him a smiling emoji and a simple non-confrontational ‘ hi ’.
Not quite believing his own luck, Martin types back an equally non creepy ‘ hello ’. Then he abandons the tea and cracks open a beer to get halfway through before typing again.
Sorry if this is really creepy but do you work at the decathlon in wandsworth?
As soon as he’s pressed send before he can dither about it he wishes more than anything that he had dithered about it. Shit shit shit what is he doing?
He drinks most of the rest of the beer and has convinced himself he’s never going to hear from this gorgeous man who may or may not come with a charming grin attached when his phone goes off again.
Depends who’s asking ;)
Well that seems fair enough, Martin thinks, and, his stomach bubbles with realising, it’s not actually a complete shut down...
You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t work there, surely. Which would mean he’s almost definitely got the right guy. His heart leaps in his chest but he pushes it back sensibly.
Right, he tells himself firmly as he plonks down on the sofa. Time to shoot your shot, turn on the charm and not be a wet blanket about it. He liked you back didn’t he? So.
He taps very firmly on the screen and sends his first message -
I came in earlier I think you might have checked me out
Before instantly tutting and sending another -
I mean served me at the check out!
TJS who might be Tim from Decathlon at least has the grace to laugh at Martin’s mistake and takes it in his stride -
Haha it’s possible I do check out some cute guys at work ig ;)
Then the little bubbles jump up and down and finally another message comes through.
Are you the poet?
Grinning to himself with stupid excitement, Martin types yes! hi! Before deleting it and trying yup that’s me! Before deleting that to and sending:
What gave me away?
The response is very fast.
Your lyrical composition lol
Martin snorts a laugh and shoots back -
Everyone’s a critic
Cos you could do better on the fly?
Then he thinks maybe that’s a bit bitchy for a guy he’s just met and adds ‘ Haha’ to soften it. He needn’t have worried it turns out. Tim sends back a laughing an emoji followed by:
Maybe :) maybe i'm a champion freestyle rapper when I’m not selling wellies.
Guess we’ll have to battle it out at a slam *laughing emoji*
Martin cringes a bit at that, not even realising how forward it was until he actually sent it, and hoping Tim doesn’t actually think Martin doesn’t know a poetry slam is not a good first date spot. Sure he likes an open mic occasionally, but he’s not mental enough to subject a stranger to it and think it’s attractive.
He hurries to type an additional message, and seeing off the dregs of his beer is possibly what makes him end the text mid sentence.
Sorry if this is insanely creepy? I didn’t want to be that guy but
Again, the response is fast. Obviously people have their phones in their hands a lot, but that doesn’t mean they respond fast. It’s not often Martin gets flowing conversation on this app. It makes him a little nervous in the best possible butterfly way thinking that wherever Tim is he’s waiting with the chat open too.
His message reads ‘But what?’ followed by a staring eye emoji that surely reads flirting, reads curious. It’s pretty encouraging, and after all people don’t match on dating apps because they're unattracted to people do they? He does have photos, even if they're sort of vague and badly lit. Martin decides honesty is the best policy and tries not to be so bloody English about typing it out.
Well I just thought you were cute and you seemed really nice
Is that weird?
He’s pretty sure a message like that which, if he’s being honest with himself, is a little fishy, is going to get an ‘aw no don’t worry’-esque response. But honestly, he wouldn’t have been shocked to get an ‘um maybe a bit’, or something equally distanced, or nothing. So it’s still a relief to get the answer he gets -
No haha ofc I’m gonna take the compliment :)
That makes him smile, relieved and a bit dopey, until it’s wiped off his face by his jaw dropping at the next message that comes through.
I was hoping it would be you
All he can manage to type back to that is ‘ Really?’. It’s maybe a bit pathetic but Wow. Really?! Not even just in a disbelief way, just in a can’t believe my own luck way. He’s barely picked his jaw off the floor when Tim’s response buzzes in his hand.
Yeah! you’re gorgeous tbh :)
Martin puts his phone down for a second, stands and walks a full circuit of the coffee table with his hands over his nose and mouth before sitting back down and checking that was real.
‘ Oh,’ he types lamely, because that’s what he wants to say and there’s no other way to vocalise it.
Oh, wow! Thanks !
You’re welcome ;)
Martin is momentarily very glad that this isn’t in person - he can feel his face heating up and knows he’s going red from just a compliment and an emoji. He holds his phone with both hands, holding in the urge to flap his hands or hug it into his chest because he’s honestly excited as a teenager over this. This guy, this insanely good looking guy he’s stalked who was nice and was flirting with him in the sports store and is still flirting with him thinks he’s attractive..? And this might go somewhere..? Yeah he’s pretty excited.
Ideally he’d like a date that might go somewhere rather than getting straight down to somewhere, but the idea that somewhere is probably on the cards at all is also pretty exciting. In the natural lull of that conversation he flips back to Tim’s profile and looks again through the pictures, matching up the compact, toned body to the easy smiles and dimpled cheeks of the man himself. The last picture is a screencap from the US version of The Office: I’m not a slut, but who knows?
Yeah. Who knows. Exciting is one word for it.
He pops back into the message screen and can’t think of a fun segue to take them a step closer to the ‘so are we gonna meet?’ stage. He settles on just being genuine and hoping he’s not lame enough to ruin things this late in the game. At this stage it feels pretty safe, though, and he thinks that’s probably all Tim's doing. He’s somehow charming enough to be relaxing to be around, even through the phone, despite being that hot.
Thanks for being so nice about all this I was pretty worried
If you couldn’t tell lol...
Yeah ofc I’m always nice ;)
You know you could have just texted me and saved yourself the worry lol
??
I left my number on your receipt.
Martin scrambles off the sofa and back into the hall to where he’s left his tote bag hanging by the door. Fishing around in the bottom with his elbow awkwardly in the air, he eventually finds the right bit of paper, still folded, and brings it back to the living room.
Unfolding it reveals a phone number, accompanied by a smiley face. Martin rubs his thumb gently over it, just stares for a few long seconds and is sure he’s already memorised it before he thinks to respond.
He only manages ‘ ... oh’.
A laughing emoji comes back and he imagines Tim chuckling at him on the other end in an amused, silly way that makes him almost happy to have failed to notice the number. As long as he can have made Tim laugh.
‘So...’ Tim asks him after that, ‘you gonna do me a poem?’
It’s maybe pushing his luck when he could just close the deal and say buy me dinner first, but Martin can’t resist -
Thought you were the expert now
Fair enough lmao
The typing bubble appears again, for a while actually, and Martin heads back to the fridge for a celebratory beer when he realises this is probably because there’s a verse being composed on the other end.
He settles on the sofa again but waits to crack it open in case he’s wrong. Then the message comes through and he jumps back up again, dangerously close to actually punching the air.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Wanna grab dinner
And dessert for two?