Meetings on a Bus - 1. Meetings on a Bus

Saturday 6^th July, 5:30 pm

The boy with the silly little dog sat down in the seat opposite me. I spared him a glance over the top of my glasses, registering neatly styled blonde hair, ice blue eyes, tanned face and summer clothes, before looking down at the dog who had settled right next to my foot. It was very fluffy and tan in colour, with wide eyes and fuzzy ears. Cute, but ultimately probably quite useless.

I leaned my elbow on the windowsill and rested my cheek on the back of my fingers, looking out at the passing cityscape. I was only going a couple of stops. Opposite me the boy, who wore a bracelet made of colourful glass beads, was mirroring my position almost perfectly. I shifted a bit, touching my fingers to my temple and noted that the boy did the same. He wasn’t even looking at me. Coincidence, but a funny one.

Then I felt something touch my foot and looked down to find that the small dog had rolled over onto one side and was licking its own arse. I chuckled, and the boy looked up at me, questioningly. I met his eyes and, inclining my head towards the little dog on my foot, said, ‘Cute dog.’

He looked down. ‘Oh, sorry!’ He tugged at the dog’s leash a bit and it shuffled closer to him before resuming its business.

‘No problem,’ said I. I looked out the window again. ‘Oh, here’s my stop. See ya.’

He nodded.

As the bus left, I saw his face in the window. Our eyes met for just a moment, and then he was gone.

Monday 8^th July, 4:15 pm

The bus was about to leave when he came running up to the closing doors, damp from the rain, with a pleading look in his eyes. The bus driver rolled his eyes, but opened the doors again to let him on. ‘Cheers, mate!’ he said, his voice full of relief.

He threw himself down into the seat opposite me before looking up, face frozen in recognition.

‘Hello again,’ I said.

‘Hi.’

‘No dog today?’

‘No, she’s at home. She’s not even mine, she’s my mum’s.’

‘I see.’

We regarded one another in awkward silence as the bus took off. I was going my two stops home after work. At home, my empty flat was waiting, yesterday’s lasagne in the fridge.

‘Off home?’ he asked, as if reading my thoughts.

‘Oh, yeah. Just got off work.’

‘Me, too. What do you do?’

‘Book shop.’

‘Oh yeah? That’s cool. I’m stocking shelves in a supermarket. Dead boring.’ He grinned, showing off even, white teeth between his pink lips. He ran his fingers through his wet fringe. ‘Rain surprised me,’ he said.

‘Yeah, it was sunny until about ten minutes ago.’

‘That’s English summers for you.’

I chuckled as the bus rolled to a halt. ‘Well, this is me. Bring your umbrella next time.’ I picked mine up off the seat next to me and left.

Thursday 11^th July, 6:10 pm

I got on the bus into town to find him in the seat by the window, opposite the one usually occupied by me. It was empty, so I sat down. He looked up at me with a smile.

‘Hiya,’ he said brightly.

‘Hey.’ I inclined my head. ‘Off for a night out?’

‘Party. With people from college.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘How old are you?’

‘Seventeen! Why, how old are you?’

‘Twenty-five.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Huh.’ He looked out the window for a moment. ‘Where are you going?’

I shrugged. ‘Shopping for food. Might pop down the pub.’

‘Wanna come to the party?’

I blinked, before bursting out laughing. ‘Darling, you don’t even know me, and you’re inviting me along to a party full of people nearly a decade younger than I am?’

He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘I don’t even know your name.’

‘It’s Andrew.’

I smiled. ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Andrew. I’m Martin.’

‘So?’

‘So, what?’

‘Are you coming to the party?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

I looked away, tongue flitting out to lick my lower lip. A nervous habit. Then I looked up at him again. ‘Because I think you’re pretty, and I haven’t gotten laid in a while, and you’re just seventeen and it wouldn’t do for me to embarrass you in front of your friends.’

He stared at me, wide-eyed, and I laughed again.

‘You look shocked.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Of course you’re not.’ The bus rolled to a stop and we both stood up. I noted now that we were both standing that he was slightly taller than me, though much thinner. ‘See you around, Andy.’

‘Andrew.’

‘Whatever.’

Saturday 13^th July, 4:29 pm

We met at the bus stop, just before the bus arrived. My heart surprised me by skipping a beat when he stood next to me, rather closer than necessary, and I realised that I had been thinking about him more than I had any right to for the past couple of days.

‘Hi, Martin.’

‘Hello, Andrew.’

He grinned. ‘Been shopping?’

‘Yeah. Making some tasty stir-fry for dinner.’

‘Yummy!’

The bus came in and we got on, taking our usual seats. ‘You off home, too?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. I had a shift today. Going home to chill.’ He glanced out the window. ‘You live alone?’ he asked casually after a while.

I nodded. ‘Yup. Well, almost. Just me and the cat.’

‘You have a cat?’

‘Yeah, his name’s Anubis.’

‘Isn’t that a weird name for a cat? I mean, Anubis was a jackal, right?’

I grinned. ‘Well done. Yes, Anubis had a jackal’s head. But in the end he was an incarnation of Osiris, so really he was a bird.’

‘You read a lot, don’t you?’

I nodded.

‘I can tell. Bet you have lots of books.’

When I stood up to get off the bus, he stood up too. ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

‘Getting off the bus.’

‘Er . . . why?’ I stepped off the bus and he stepped off after me.

‘So I can go home with you.’

‘I don’t recall inviting you.’

‘I’m inviting myself.’

I shook my head, setting off in the direction of home. ‘You’re a nutter.’

‘I am not! I just want to get to know you, is all.’

‘What for?’

‘So I can seduce you.’

I laughed out loud at that. ‘Oh, you’re going to seduce me, are you?’

‘If you let me in.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Look, if this is about what I said—’

‘I liked it,’ he interrupted. ‘I like that you think I’m pretty.’

‘Andrew, dear, everyone probably thinks your pretty. Straight men would think you’re pretty.’

‘Are you a straight man?’

I chuckled. ‘Nope. Not even a little.’

‘Then why does it matter what straight men would think?’

I stopped just outside my building and turned to him. ‘Andrew, you’re sweet, but I’m not inviting you into my flat, okay? Go home.’

He sighed. ‘Fine. Have coffee with me tomorrow?’

‘Have coffee?’ I repeated. ‘What, lattes at Starbucks? What are we, hipster-chicks?’

He folded his arms across his chest, eyebrow cocked, thin, pink lips set it a smirk.

‘Fine,’ I relented. ‘When and where?’

‘Little place down the city centre called Golden Roast. Bishop’s Street. At three?’

‘All right. Bye, Andrew.’

He grinned. ‘Bye. And I know where you live now!’ He turned around and set off at a slight trot down the street towards the bus stop.

‘You’d better not start stalking me!’ I called after him, and he waved his hand in a non-committal gesture.

Sunday 14^th July, 2:40 pm

I was unsurprised when I found Andrew already in his regular seat when I got on the bus. I nodded to him as I sat down, and he smiled at me.

‘Glad you showed.’

‘Well, I did say I would.’

‘Man of your word.’

‘Of course.’

We sat in silence for a little while. I tapped the window frame with my fingers. He cocked his head to one side.

‘You look nervous.’

‘I’m not nervous about having coffee with a twink,’ I replied.

‘You get defensive when you’re nervous. When you get defensive you get snappy and a little bit mean.’

I stared at him for a long moment. Then I smiled. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s all right. It’s one of the things that make you interesting.’

‘Why are you so interested in me, Andrew?’

‘Why are you so interested in me?’ he retorted.

‘You think I’m interested?’

‘You’re the one who said you thought I was pretty, and that you hadn’t gotten laid in a while. That denotes interest, doesn’t it?’

‘A shallow interest.’

‘But it’s not shallow.’ His eyes bored into mine, and I found myself forced to look away.

‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘It’s not.’

‘I know you think I’m just seventeen and don’t know anything. You think I’m clueless and naïve. I’m not, you know.’

‘No?’

‘No. Thinking that is just how you protect yourself from the truth.’

‘Which is?’

‘That you think I’m hot.’ He lowered his voice. ‘That you want to fuck me.’

His voice went straight to my groin and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. ‘Do you often flirt with strange men on the bus?’

’Only the hot ones,’ he replied without missing a beat.

‘Been with many men, then, have you?’

‘Loads.’

I scoffed. ‘Don’t lie to make yourself seem interesting, Andrew, it’s very unattractive.’

‘I’m not lying. You asked. You were worried about embarrassing me in front of my classmates. They all know I’m gay. I’ve shagged several of them. Even a couple of supposedly straight ones. It’s amazing what you can get people to admit to when they’ve had a few.’ He stood. ‘We’re getting off here.’

I followed him off the bus and we strolled down a side street. On a sunny Sunday in July, the city centre was almost deserted.

‘Do you think less of me knowing I’m such a manwhore?’ he asked after a moment.

‘You’re not a manwhore,’ I said. ‘You’re . . . Young and adventurous.’

‘Haha! Like you used to be, once upon a time?’ he said dramatically.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ve never been like that. I’ve always preferred the company of my books and my cat. Not that I haven’t got friends. Not that I haven’t been with anyone . . . I have. Just rarely just for sex. And it’s been almost a year since I broke up with my last boyfriend.’

‘You haven’t had sex in almost a year?’

‘I haven’t had sex in longer than that. He was cheating on me towards the end, wouldn’t touch me.’

Andrew stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me, shock evident on his pretty face. ‘Oh, Martin, I’m so sorry!’

I shrugged. ‘I was getting fat.’

‘I don’t think you’re fat. I think you’re fit as hell.’

‘You think so?’

‘Fuck, yeah!’ He reached out and took my hand. ‘I think you’re gorgeous. There’s no end to the stuff I’d like to do to you. Or with you. Or have you do to me. And I don’t just wanna shag you. I want to get to know you, for real.’

‘We’ve known about each other’s existence for all of a week, Andrew.’

‘A week and a day.’

‘I found out your name last Thursday.’

‘So?’

I shrugged. ‘So nothing. Let’s go have coffee.’ I didn’t let go of his hand.

Monday 15^th July, 7:10 am

I got on the bus in a daze that morning. I sat in my spot, staring out of the window at nothing at all, thinking. Thinking about Andrew’s lips, which were soft and pink and tasted of mango lip balm. I had run my fingers through his hair, and it had felt so good.

Kissing was all we’d done, but every touch of his lips, his arms around my neck and his hands in my hair, had felt like electricity. It had been a long time since I had been touched. Kissed. Held.

My dreams had been hot, heavy, throbbing things, full of Andrew and his hands and lips, doing things to me that I had never trusted anyone enough to let them do to me before. In spite of my fears and misgivings, I knew that I trusted this boy. With him, everything somehow became okay.

I very nearly missed my stop, jumping up at the last minute.

This was going to be a long day.

Monday 15^th July, 4:27 pm

The relief I felt seeing Andrew at the bus stop that afternoon was greater than I could have expressed in words. I had spent the whole day thinking about him.

Now he stood there, in khaki shorts and a blue, short-sleeved button down, looking like a Californian surfer boy, hands in his pockets, as though he were waiting for something.

As though he were waiting for me.

‘Hey,’ I said, and he turned around, beaming at me.

‘Hi,’ he said softly, and without caring where he was or who could see us (a manner so different from my ex who never even touched me in public for fear of what people would think) he took my hand in his and placed a light, soft kiss on my lips. ‘I was hoping I’d run into you. I actually missed the last bus on purpose cause you weren’t on it . . . ’

I laughed. ‘You’re silly.’

‘Yeah, well I thought maybe I could convince you to let me come home with you today.’

I barely hesitated for a moment. ‘Of course you can.’

When the bus arrived, we got on and we sat in comfortable silence, in the seats that were ours, looking at one another, not touching. When the bus reached my stop, we both got up and Andrew took my hand again.

The short walk to my flat was quiet and peaceful, but as we reached the front door and I fished my keys from my pocket I began to feel nervous. It was like Andrew felt it, because he squeezed my hand reassuringly.

Anubis met us at the door. He glared skeptically at Andrew before walking two rounds about my legs, nuzzling at my ankles. Then he sauntered out into the sitting room.

I went into the kitchen and stuck my head in the fridge. There wasn’t much, but I found a bottle of cloudy lemonade. ‘You thirsty?’ I asked, looking up at Andrew, who stood leaning against the doorframe.

‘Yeah, cheers.’

I poured two glasses, handing one to him. Then, not knowing what else to do, I drained my glass in one go. He did the same. I took his glass from him and set it on the counter, and then he stepped closer to me and placed his lips on mine.

It was wilder, more urgent than it had been the previous day. His hands wandered. Mine did the same, feeling the firmness of his body beneath my fingertips.

‘Let me take care of you?’ he whispered, and I nodded.

He steered me through the kitchen to the open door of the bedroom. Sat me down on the bed. Sat in my lap, straddling my thighs and kissing me deeply. I had long since stopped worrying that he was seventeen. Long since stopped caring that we had only just met and that we knew so little about each other. All I cared about just then was Andrew, in my arms, in my lap, gorgeous and willing and amazing. And mine.

Andrew’s hands were quick and dextrous, his mouth giving and warm. His chest was smooth and hairless, and his body ofntop of mine felt simultaneously soft and hard, and so so hot.

The touch of another, after so long, felt every bit as good as it had in my dreams, and I thought, This isn’t heaven, but it’s as close as I’m ever going to get.

Tuesday 16^th July, 7:05 am

We walked to the bus stop, hand in hand. Andrew had stayed the night. Neither of us had gotten an awful lot of sleep, and I had woken up in the small hours of the morning to sweet kisses and slow, languid movements as Andrew brought me to a sleepy climax. I had forgotten how much I loved morning sex. How good it could be.

While we waited for the bus, Andrew put his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back, heart fluttering like that of a school boy. I wanted to be back in my flat, with him.

‘Come back with me again tonight?’ I whispered.

‘I need to go home and get a change of clothes first. I’ll come after.’

I chuckled. ‘Yes, you will. I guarantee it.’

‘Naughty!’ He giggled, and kissed my neck softly.

‘I’ll cook us something nice and we can watch a movie or something.’

‘Ooh, promises of dinner and entertainment? Best boyfriend ever!’

We stepped apart as the bus approached. ‘Is that what we are?’ I asked. ‘Boyfriends?’

‘If you want us to be.’

I grinned. I must have looked like an idiot. ‘I do. I really, really do.’

We sat down in our regular seats, opposite one another, and I took his hand, twining our fingers together. Then I sighed, suddenly pensive.

‘What?’ he asked. ‘You look worried.’

‘Maybe . . .’ I frowned. ‘Worried you’ll get bored with me. After what happened with—’

‘I would never do that to you!’ he said fiercely, cutting me off. ‘Ever. Trust me. If I . . . If I don’t want you anymore, I’ll tell you. I promise you that.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve slept around a lot, but I’ve never been unfaithful. It’s not because I feel the need to shag so many different guys. It’s more because I’ve never been with a guy worth returning to.’ He looked deep into my eyes, and I shivered under his intense gaze. ‘You’re worth returning to.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I see you, Martin. I see you clear as anything. You’re a good person. You’re an amazing person. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be happy.’

No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I wanted to cry, but how would that look on a crowded bus? So instead I smiled and said, ‘So do you.’

‘Well,’ he said. ‘That works out nicely, then.’

Friday 2^nd August, 4:30 pm

I sat down on the bus in my usual seat. The seat opposite was occupied by a woman with a little boy of maybe five or six. A few seconds later, Andrew plopped down into the seat next to me. I smiled at him.

He glanced at the woman and leaned in close, whispering in my ear, ‘Bitch stole my seat.’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘Think she’ll move if we start snogging?’

I giggled as he began kissing my neck, making sloppy, wet noises with his lips. ‘You are silly!’

‘Always.’ He grinned. Then he kissed me on the lips, and I kissed him back, and I forgot where I was for a little while.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman glare at us. When the kiss deepened, she shielded her child’s eyes, eventually getting up and taking the kid to a free seat in the back of the bus.

Andrew released my lips and sat down in his seat, grinning at me. He looked ever so pleased with himself and his grin was infectious.

I shook my head. ‘You have no tact.’

‘What do I need tact for?’ He leaned in, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles gently. ‘I’ve got my very own Martin.’

END