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David
He’s suddenly just there. Like Olly materialized out of thin air when that wide-hipped woman in the huge sun hat stepped to the side, revealing his slender form framed perfectly in a circle of light. He’s leaning against the dark grey stones making up what’s left of the curtain wall, with one foot bracing against the stone and one on the ground, arms crossed over his chest. I wish I were so confident.
I wipe my sweaty palms on the soft cotton interior of my jacket pockets and hurry forward to say hello. He’s in skinny jeans and a tight mesh top under a lightweight leather jacket, everything molded to his body in the most flattering way. I feel his eyes sweep over me and see his smirk, and I’m suddenly self-conscious. Perhaps a Carhart jacket over a jumper and jeans was too casual? I thought I looked good, but he looks stunning.
The sky is heavy with lumps of threatening clouds, but it’s not raining and the sun keeps peeking out and spotlighting random parts of the valley below us. When he’d suggested this location for our first date over text, I’d done my homework and so I got here early and walked up the steep slope with plenty of time to recover. It’s bad enough I worked up a bit of sweat during the climb, but the Jean-Paul Gaultier cologne I’m wearing should cover it. While I’m in good shape from rowing and the gym, I really didn’t want to wheeze or actively seep water in front of him at this stage of our… relationship.
The fact that I’d managed to share even a little bit of my longing for something beyond sex as we’ve been arranging to see each other again is… monumental. I don’t know if he’s caught on to any of that yet, however. But I’ve already talked to my therapist about it, and she agrees. Me admitting to him that I want him and want to get to know him are both big steps compared to my down-low bisexuality of the last decade.
Olly
It’s good to see him in person again, to remind myself what I like about him. My sleuthing online since our meet-cute at the Tesco hadn’t turned up anything sexy and I’ve been second-guessing this whole thing. His profile picture on Insta features his lips stretched around the rim of an entire beer glass. Like a dude bro jock dare. Ugh.
If I were hung like a Coke can, maybe I’d appreciate that photo… but I’m not. I’m actually very average, and I’m okay with that. I like that David isn’t, though. Well, if the aubergines and our dancing around the comparison with his bulge were any indication. I do like a good stretch.
I didn’t know exactly how to dress for this date. We’re at some castle thing I vaguely remembered from one of my early uni courses on history or architecture. Normally, I’d ask my brother for clothing advice, but I’m not ready to share this with him yet.
What would I say? “Hey, I’m going on a date with your boyfriend’s older brother. Help me look sexy so I can get some?” Nah. Oscar was no help, and Bailey said I should dress warmly, but that hides my best, ahem, assets. So here I am in fuck-me jeans and my favourite seduction top (which was a bad decision, I’ll admit now) and a leather cycling jacket some random hookup left at our flat. At least I look good.
David looks… plain again. Not bad. Just… like your standard allocishet white guy who doesn’t make any effort whatsoever. I’m probably being unfair to him, but if this is him making an effort, oh honey. Project Fixer Upper Boyfriend, here we go. I guess.
It’s exciting to think about being someone’s boyfriend, even though neither of us has come right out and said that’s our mutual goal. But he’s hinted and I’ve reflected and, yeah, I think I’m ready to try something like that. So we’ll see if we make it there. That’s the point of today’s date after all, exploring if we can stand to be more than a hookup.
And if the answer ends up as no and all I get is one glorious session with his trouser python, that’s still great. I like experimenting, and taking it slow is a new thing for me. This will be fun.
David
As I power walk to him, Olly pushes off the wall with his foot and struts slowly over to me. Do you ever feel completely outmatched in anything? Until now, I never have. Football, finance, French… all easy, impressive successes that position me well in the dating world. But compared to this twenty-year-old peacocking in front of me, I feel like a fuddy-duddy. At least his smirk has turned into an actual smile.
He stops before me, and I don’t know whether to reach for a hug, offer a handshake, or make a joke about something, anything. I stand paralyzed in overanalysis, and he answers for me, wrapping his long, thin arms around my smaller frame and hugging me tightly. He catches me off guard at first, but I relax into the hug and return it. His body is cold against mine, and the leather of his jacket is stiff. I don’t let go until I can transfer some of my heat to him.
When we stop hugging, I mention his body temperature. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m hot, actually,” he replies, preening as the jacket falls open and reveals more of his mesh-covered torso. I make out two tattoos beneath the sheer fabric.
“You are,” I agree, smiling at his obviousness. “But are you warm? You felt cold.”
“So heat me up,” he says, winking mischievously. I’m not a rube who doesn’t know how to flirt, but my concern eclipses my attraction to him. I remove my Carhart and offer it to him.
“You can wear mine. I’m sure it’ll fit, and it’s lined.” My jumper is enough right now since I’m still warm from the hill and moving around whilst I waited.
“No, it’s fine,” he scoffs with a laugh, and I don’t know him well enough yet to read if it’s amused, offended, hurt or something else. He starts walking away before turning and looking over his shoulder. I swear he’s flexing his arse at me. “Walk with me?”
Olly
Leave it to David to take the fun out of my flirting. I like that he cares. It’s sweet, if antiquated, to offer me his coat, but bruh, I know I’m not dressed for the weather. That wasn’t the point. Looking hot and seducing you is. I see you staring at my abs and noticing my tattoos. I felt your semi-stiffness against my jeans. I know it’s working, so why try to cover me up? Don’t put Baby in a corner… unless you’re going to do things to me.
I turn away from him and slow-mo walk for a few paces, making sure I flex my arse before turning to look back at him. Yep. Bingo. He’s watching, eyes wide and mouth open. “Walk with me?”
He joins me, sliding back into his jacket, and we walk the grounds under the shadow of the keep overlooking the village below. I can’t say why I chose this location for our first official date. I guess it was just interesting, and based on some of the pics on his Insta, he likes hiking and travelling. At least we can talk about the archways and other 800-year-old remnants.
“This was an interesting choice for a date,” he says as he stops and examines a particular, half-ruined opening that feels like a gaping mouth with jagged rock teeth in need of a dentist. It looks like it’ll swallow him up, and I feel a pang of jealousy because I want to do the swallowing.
“I figured it was better than a cheeky Nandos,” I say with a shrug. If I’m being honest — and since I’m talking about me, I am — I kind of wish I had taken him to something both indoors and creative like a pottery decoration store where you paint your piece or this one knitting cafe I like to go to when I’m stressed. I figured that might be too unusual, though, and seeing David’s appearance and old-fashioned gestures, I’m glad I didn’t. Dating a millennial is hard. I choose another track. “Besides, the view’s worth it.”
I take his hand, pulling him from the mouthy archway and towards an overlook where the limestone outcrop juts out from under the castle’s foundation. His palm is slightly wet, so I hold tighter and guide him towards a spot where the centuries of sitters have worn the rock into a smooth bench. As we relax and then I shiver on the cold stone, I decide not to let go of his hand.
David
I was tempted to take his hand but thought it might be too much, so when he takes mine, I feel a little jolt of excitement. We bask in the silence a long while once we settle into the place he chose. I don’t know for sure how he’s perceiving all this, but my focus keeps bouncing between the texture of his skin and the way the town looks so quaint laid out below us in the river valley.
The back of my hand is resting on his thigh, and his fingers curl into the dip between them when he flexes them occasionally. His thumb starts making short circuits up and down the side of my index finger. He’s soft and firm at the same time, delicate and deliberate in his movements. That delicious confidence there in the original act of claiming my arm, tempered by a patience I sense doesn’t come easy to him.
I still have so much to learn about him. He flirts like breathing, challenges me to keep up. He makes me feel awkward yet safe. Being together like this, it’s so simple. Will it be enough? I worry I’ll be too boring for him. But so far, his energy merges sweet and sassy strands as he glances at me and then away.
There aren’t many other people up here today. The cute family from earlier, the lady in the sun hat and her little boy – they’ve ambled off home, I suppose. I break the silence with some mundane questions about Olly’s program at uni and how the new school year has started. He answers me and then expands into a lovely rant about the construction industry and how he’d like to change it. I tease him that he wants to be in charge before he even does his work experience year or post-graduate degree. He rolls his eyes at me but smiles freely.
“Yeah, I’m bossy. What of it?” He pushes a shoulder into me and squeezes my hand. He’s tilted his head so he can flutter his eyelashes in my direction and I snort even as something hot licks up my spine. How can he be so endearingly overt and so effective at the same time?
I hum and nod. “Good to know.” I can feel him still looking at me as I resolutely keep my eyes on the horizon. I wonder what tactic he’ll try next.
But before he can lure me in further, the moment is altered by the passage of a young man walking a small brown dog. Olly turns his body away from me at the noise and… loses his mind.
Before I can take another breath, he’s up and speeding over to intersect with their path. I can hear his voice going up into a singsong lilt as he gains permission to pet the dog. He’s crouching down and rubbing ears and cooing and well… if this is Olly in love, that’s aspirational honestly. I flush as I imagine all that praise and affection flowing into me, assuming we work out the way I want.
I like this glimpse into his nature, his capacity for earnest connection that he clearly hides most of the time behind the disaffected posture of his generation. Not that he’s been faking it. But he has layers, and he’s letting me see some of them already. It makes me feel special.
Olly
Baron Whaddon the Miniature Schnauzer is a very good boy and I love him. Reluctantly I stand and let him go on with his day, never having learned his human’s name. I shiver and dart back to David’s side, eager to entwine our arms again and soak up his warmth through the long line of our legs pressed together. He’s smiling at me rather fondly as I tuck up against him.
“Wot?” I lean down so I can peer up at him. “Wassup?”
He smirks and shakes his head, looking back out over the valley. “You already know how cute you are. You don’t need me to tell you.”
I wiggle my hips so we’re even closer. This stone under my arse is still very cold. “But maybe I like to hear it anyway,” I pout.
He looks at me again, one eyebrow arching. Whatever he sees in my expression makes him grin and jerk his chin down. “Fine. You’re adorable. That was adorable.” I can feel my own mouth bend into a matching grin. He blinks at me and tilts his head. “Happy now?”
I nod enthusiastically and then contort myself, pretzeling into him, so my cheek is resting on his shoulder, both of us returning our gaze to the view. This is really nice.
It’s just small tastes so far as we get to know each other, but he seems inclined to be playful with me, and I’m realising how important that is to me and how much I’d assumed he wouldn’t want that. But he doesn’t appear to be struggling to meet me there. In fact, I’d wager he really likes the banter and bluster.
I feel really comfortable with him already. I’m usually in my head during one-on-one dates, trying to plot the shortest route to one of our bedrooms. I reserve ‘getting to know a person’ efforts for friend group additions, which sometimes turn into sexual partners afterwards. This… is different but not in a bad way.
I sit up to ask him about his job, and he tells me a story I intuit is supposed to be funny, but it goes over my head. I shrug, chin swaying back and forth a bit to show I didn’t get it, and smile sheepishly. He scrunches his nose and tries to explain the jargon before giving up with a rueful chuckle.
“It’s not important. My job is just something to pay the bills. I’m good at it, and that can be fulfilling in its own way, but I’m not trying to change the world.” He winks at me, a small dig about my embarrassing passion for architect-led reform, but it’s a kind type of teasing. I could get used to this.
David
I’m not sure how long this date is supposed to last or if Olly has any other agenda after we finish… basically snuggling here in the dappled light. I’m not thirsty, I’m not hungry, I don’t have to pee. I remind myself to just enjoy the present.
After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, I notice him shiver. Frowning, I glare at him for a second before sliding my jacket off and wrapping it around his shoulders. He’s protesting half-heartedly but finally he sighs and straightens up to slip his arms into the sleeves and zip it up. He looks over at me, and I can tell he feels pathetically uncool. I suppress my smile and tuck my arm around his, drawing his hand to my thigh. Then I lean my head over until it rests on his, a nearly perfect reversal of our earlier configuration.
I hear him grunt, a small pleased sound, and he melts into the gaps between us. I’m more aware of the breeze and the way the clouds are scudding across the sky, but the weather can’t touch this. I feel just as warm as I did wearing the jacket.
I lose track of time relishing the feel of him next to me like this, but then I hear him humming; it’s clearly a real song, the melody vaguely familiar. My eyes almost close as he continues, the effect strangely like a lullaby, and my mind is wandering.
Then my brain helpfully starts playing the video which matches his tune and I sit up in shock. What the hell?! Is he really equating this date with that level of romance?! I must be making a hell of an impression, even without Aladdin’s magic carpet. Hmmm, maybe I’m overthinking this. I blink at him as he smugly restarts the tune and then softly begins to sing the actual lyrics.
“I can show you the world,” he serenades me with a sly smile and a wave at the view. “Shining, shimmering, splendid.” Each word drawn out and smoothly delivered. “Tell me, princess,” he has the gall to wink at me. “Now when did you last let your heart decide?”
“Oi, shove off!” I guffaw as I really do shove at him. He bends in half, he’s laughing so hard. I cross my arms over my chest and harrumph at him before helplessly joining in, his giggles absolutely contagious.
“Your face!” He’s wiping his cheeks and trying to catch his breath now. “When you figured it out. Oh my god!” I shake my head at him but I can’t help feeling fond despite him being a little shit. Who knew I had a soft spot for bratty behaviour?!
His face is alight with joy and mischief and I find myself fixated on his lips. I think a kiss is a good second date milestone. Yeah… I’m going to get that scheduled with him by the end of today. I look up and he’s already locked onto my eyes, his jaw angled in curiosity. I let myself stare at him and he stares right back, our gaze steady and somehow soft. There’s gentle flapping and fluttering in my belly, and I happily sink into that sensation. I can tell this is the start of something real.