Chapter Text
Graham wasn’t exactly expecting to wake up with someone else on his bed today. Not even that the unknown was naked. Even less that it was a man.
He took a step back mentally to recapitulate. He went to a club last night with his friends, drank a bit too much, snogged a bunch of people, and… that’s all he can remember for now, and he definitely wasn’t going to remember the rest for some time, as now the hungover usual headache stung him violently and made him dizzy for a brief moment.
Graham, after peeking under the duvet, looked around for his clothes; he was naked too, and this made him aware that things had gone too far in the last hours. At least he was in his house, this made him feel better and safe. His trousers were nowhere to be seen, but his underpants were at the end of the bed, which was good enough for him for now. He moved through his pained mind and sore body to reach it carefully to not wake the stranger, but he couldn’t balance himself properly and fell off the bed.
“Ow, fuck!” He exclaimed along with the loud thud that his body produced by hitting the ground. He quickly looked up at the bloke on his bed, and he still slept as if nothing ever bothered him.
Graham still had his eyes locked on him as he dressed his pants, he was quite pretty. Dirty blond and short hair that fell in a fringe right above his eyes, faint expression marks next to his mouth and a growing stubble. A colourful necklace made of different beads was hanging on his neck and he worried for a second, the necklace was apparent to be sensible for, well, whatever they had done last night, but as it was still untouched, everything was fine. He was all covered in purple and red hickey and love bites throughout his neck and arms. Graham didn’t have the courage to check now, but he knew he was full of them too. They had matching bruises. Cor, last night’s Graham went bonkers.
In the middle of his watching-the-stranger-sleep-in-his-bed moment, he noticed he had been lying over one of Graham’s pair of shorts. It was the closest thing he had, and maybe the blond man wouldn’t mind a bit of movement, right?
He tried to be as stealth as a mouse to pull that piece of clothing from under the heavy body, doing it slowly and almost effortlessly. Perhaps he could do it with success. He was close to getting his shorts out of there, but out of the blue, the unknown groaned and opened his eyes with difficulty, meeting Graham’s brown and scared eyes as he leaned on the bed to have his shorts. Graham found himself staring into a pair of beautiful blue eyes, and golden lashes around its orbs. The admiring didn’t take long, as he realised how ridiculous it was the fact that the man wouldn’t wake up from a scream, but from a bit of movement. Great. He found himself embarrassed and freezing in his place for the time their eyes connected, but when the man turned around to groan again and stretch his numb muscles, he made his move to pull the shorts as fast as he could and dressed it.
The man sat on the bed, also searching for his own pants. He pushed the duvet aside, exposing his body and Graham finally took a note on how big he was. Now that he thought about that… oh, thank god, his arse isn’t sore. He studied his body, straight from shoulders to hips, and his chest was hairy. If he stared a bit more, he would let out a blatant ‘you’re hot’ absentmindedly.
He moved to the man’s side of the bed, as he turned around to get his underpants from the ground and put it on. He got up, and Graham stopped him from leaving the bedroom by putting himself on his way.
Their eyes met again, now weirdly because the brunette wouldn’t let the other relocate, the blond bloke furrowed as in curiosity and stubborn, and the silence between them became uneasy. Graham finally said something. “W… what’s your name?”
After a beat, he registered what Graham said to him and smirked as if he found that funny. “G’morning to you, too.” He hit his hand on Graham’s side lightly to scare him from his way, and he moved in reflex. The still nameless man kept walking unaffected, like a cat who knew exactly where to go and how, though he clearly had no familiarity with the place. Graham recalled this voice echoing somewhere in the depths of his memories, he knows he heard that before but can’t remember what it was saying before.
Graham turned back at the bed to analyse: the sheets were a mess, one of the tips next to the pillows leaving the mattress exposed, and though it was briefly gone, there were marks on both sides like someone had gripped on it for their live. Fucking hell. He shook his head and went after the stranger.
“Sorry, I-” he picked up the pace with the other “I just don’t know who you are. D’you want something to eat? Or some tea, maybe?”
The blond one stopped and glanced at Graham, confused but his face was lighter. “Tea? Nobody ever asked me if I wanted some tea after a one-night thing.” Graham hissed through his teeth, hesitant, trying to read his face.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I dunno.” He took some time to think, considering every possibility. “If you won’t try to poison me, yeah, I’d like some tea.”
They stared at each other again, Graham was too busy studying (or even better, admiring) the man in front of him to move. Graham didn’t know he had a thing for blokes, as everything he felt for them never got near to what he felt for women, but for this once, he was glad there was a chance he had. He was gorgeous, and Graham did him last night. Is it bad to be proud of shagging someone you don’t even know the name?
The loud sound of a car passing by outside was all it took to shake these thoughts off his mind, and he shyly walked to go in front of the stranger, guiding them to the kitchen.
The kitchen was a bit messy, just enough to make him feel awkward for having a ‘visit,’ if you could call it like that. He grabbed the kettle on the countertop, filled it with water and placed it on the stove, while the other bloke sat on the table in the middle of the room in the only chair available. The table had four chairs, but usually Graham would fill two of them with a pile of clothes or utensils for painting and use one of the available to move around and reach higher places; not that he needed much, he was high enough, but just a week ago he had to change a lamp in the living room and since then, the chair is still there.
While the water delayed boiling, he looked around the kitchen, picking up a frying pan and some bread to make-
“Toasts?” The voice behind him shattered the silence, watching him attentively.
“Uhm, yes. Usually, I’d prepare something nicer for… how can I say... companies?” He hesitated, but no one questioned his choice of word. “But that’s all I have now.”
“That’s alright, I’m just surprised, really. No one ever prepared me anything after a one-night stand,” Graham winced at the ‘one-night stand’ being brought up, he didn’t know what exactly he thought of it yet, “instead they just want me to leave as soon as I’m awake. Or they just leave. I figured you wouldn’t be any different, so I was leaving.”
“Is this some kind of etiquette I’m unaware of?” He placed a pan on the stove burner next to the kettle and turned around to look at the unknown, he was laughing. Crikey, his smile was beautiful. He fooled himself into believing that his heart didn’t skip a beat just now. “I never let people go out in the street on an empty stomach, that’s rude.”
“Cor, you’re such a gentleman,” he played and displayed his elbow on the table to help support his head.
The stranger was messing with him, Graham couldn’t tell if on purpose or not, however, he turned around to avoid getting lost into those deep blue eyes again or staring too much at his upper body and faced the stove again.
The fridge was hot enough and he placed two loaves of bread on the pan. “Are you sure you don’t wanna dress your clothes?”
“If I only knew where they are.”
Graham couldn’t argument against it, he didn’t know where his clothes were either. “You’re right. Sorry, I’ll look for them,” he glanced at him again, he was still smiling at the brunette with some joy, but he hurried to the living room to look for clothes. He first found the bloke’s trousers, then his own shirt and the bloke’s shirt closer to the entrance, all thrown on the ground. He also found some of his CDs and vinyl’s collections all over the place. For fuck’s sake, what happened last night? And where the fuck were his trousers?
He collected the clothes and went back to the kitchen, where the man was gazing at his own nails distracted.
“There ya go,” Graham handed the shirt and trousers to him and went back to the stove, dressing his own striped shirt, a bit shy.
He heard a ‘thank you,’ and the blond man dressed himself up, leaving only his fly and belt open. Graham didn’t want to stare, so he denied looking at him or chat again until the toasts and tea were ready. He handed a plate with two toasts and a cup of tea to the man and sat in front of him after bringing the chair from the living room to its designed place, having for himself his own plate and cup.
Graham asked him if he felt something rough, considering he might’ve drunk last night too and his own headache got a bit worse, but all he got was a simple “I’m fine” followed by silence. The fact he still didn’t know the man’s name was starting to really bug him, but he already been turned off before and the mention of a one-night stand was clear enough to make it obvious he shouldn’t worry about information now. Still, he was anxious. He messed with his hair after biting his toast, and swallowed before opening his mouth, “can you tell me your name now? I’m a bit… unsettled with this.”
The necklace on the blond man jiggled when he approximated his face to Graham on the other side, looking curious. “You don’t remember my name?”
He grimaced awkwardly, ashamed of himself. “You told me your name before?”
“Of course I did, and you told me yours right after! My memory isn’t that bad from last night, you’re Alex, right?”
Graham made him wait for a reaction, and all he got was a great guffaw, which he slightly tilted his head to the side, confused. “Right- I mean, no, I lied to you.” The bloke got even more confused. “I was drunk and messing around, I pretended I was Alex, that’s a friend who was with me. I’m Graham.”
“Grah… Graham? Wow, that’s a charming name.” He took a sip on his tea, maintaining eye contact. He seemed to observe every action of Graham, reading him to address if he was ill-intentioned or not. “Damon… is my name.”
“That’s a charming name, too. It suits you.” He risked the compliment, going after biting his nails instead of bread.
“What makes you say that?”
“Uh, well.” He gulped and narrowed his eyes down, thinking hard to not let his raw thoughts slip out of his mind. “You’re… your hair is messy, in a good way, I mean. Your eyes are pretty, and they match your necklace, y’know…” Damon’s lack of response forced him to speak a bit more, he found himself nervous under that bloke’s surveillance. “What I’m tryna say is that I think you’re goodlooking,” to not say breathtaking, he thought, “and it suits your name. It caught attention.”
It made Damon giggle, so maybe he wasn’t doing much wrong. “People say this to me all the time, you shouldn’t think too much about it. Is it the nose?” He turned his face to the side, showing his profile. To be honest, Graham hadn’t noticed his nose until now, looking attentively at it, and even that, the smallest detail on him was striking.
“A bit, I guess,” he looked down at his toast again, eating another bite of it. “I don’t like mine. It’s big.” He missed Damon’s look on him that meant ‘I wouldn’t say that, but fine.’
The blond man noticed him trying to shut himself off after that and worried for a moment, so he took a step back, this time trying to be flirty again. “I find you’re very attractive anyway.” Then a grin grew on his face. “Oi, you’re not scared of saying you think I’m pretty, are ya?”
Graham shrunk on his chair, getting even shyer, but as Damon caught him red-handed, no need for him to say otherwise. “A little bit.” He drank his tea to relief himself from that situation.
Damon’s mouth fell to the ground in surprise, “how’s that?”
“Well, if we had sex… you’d be the first bloke I did it with.” Damon just got even more surprised, his eyes widening. The brunette found the expression funny. “Is that shocking?”
“Of fucking course! I saw you snogging two blokes before me, y’see, I thought you’d be familiarized with it!”
“Wait, wait, wait. Two blokes?”
“Yeah, two. I guess they were your friends; your mates are really loud, for the record.”
Graham stopped and thought hard, getting flashes of memories, but his headache aggravating in return. “Oh, right, Alex and Toby, I remember now. I snog my mates sometimes, but only when having a laugh or something. Never thought I’d have a bloke on my bed. Wasn’t planning that!” He giggled; his face was getting hotter. He drank again.
“Oh, you’re not into men?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about it and never noticed any attraction towards them. I thought not, but apparently…”
“Never? Never, ever? Didn’t you have any obsession with a male figure when younger?”
Graham considered his response. “Does Morrissey count?”
“Oh, he definitely counts! Unfortunately, you’re the last to know,” they giggled together. “So, you shag a lot of birds?”
Graham thanked himself for not having some toast or tea in his mouth, because he was sure he would choke hearing that. His eyes widened at Damon. “I wouldn’t say a lot.”
“Is that so? You’re good at sex, I thought you-“
“Oh, god, stop it,” Graham hid his face. Damon stayed silent and ate his toast. “Sorry, ‘m not used to… any praises at all. I mean, you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
Damon shook his head. “Not at all. We were, like, desperate for each other, but you insisted on putting a rubber on.”
“Force of habit.”
“I guess it’s not anybody who wants a surprise nine months after a one-night stand,” Damon chuckled again, and Graham felt awkward about the description again. “But that’s good, means you’re still responsible, somehow! Even though I can’t get pregnant.”
“You’re making this weird.”
“’m stating the truth, mate, I don’t feel sore or anything. Kind of a shame, I like it rough.”
Graham choked on his tea this time, coughing loudly until he could get it out, the blond man cackled at him the whole time. When he could catch a breath again, he sipped his tea properly, which was almost redundant, and another fragment of memories reached him. The memories were undone and out of order, but he could guess where to place them.
“Fuck, I sucked your dick,” he breathed out defeated, rubbing his eyes.
“You really don’t remember anything, do you?” Damon finished his tea watching Graham. “Yeah, and you’re awful on it, but now I understand why. It was good enough, though.”
“You just said I’m awful at it.”
“We were drunk; you didn’t know how to use your mouth, and anything was enough to get me off, so I enjoyed it.”
“Got it.”
“Alright, you’re not that bad.”
“I think you’re softening it to not upset me.”
“I am, sorry.”
A weak laugh escaped Graham and he finished eating, then quietness came up again, and they figured it was time to say goodbye. Graham still didn’t want to. He shifted on his chair.
“Can I ask you something?” He vocalized, and Damon signalled for him to keep talking. “Do you remember your first time?”
“My first time wasn’t with a bloke, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m into birds too.” Graham shrugged, manifesting he didn’t care where Damon wanted to take this subject. “I was 14 or 15, can’t remember, but she was a few years older; at her’s after class.”
“You studied together?”
“Yeah, we were dating for a while before that, but it was over pretty soon. Well, with a guy, we were both 19 and high as kites after a gig. I was the top,” he smiled proudly. “But to be a bottom, that’s a whole different thing. If you think about bottoming someday, do it slow and safely, for fuck’s sake, or you’ll be hurt for a week or so,” and suddenly, the telling of personal experiences turned into a form of advice, one apparently Graham should not forget.
“Okay, I will note that down,” he laughed.
“Please do!” Damon laughed too. “Hmm, what about you?”
Graham breathed deeply before answering. “I was a week away from turning 16, and this girl I was dating just took me into the woods and, well…”
“In the woods? That’s interesting. Was it uncomfortable?”
“A bit. It’s not lovely using a tree as your only support, y’know.” Damon snorted. Graham was glad he thought he was funny at some degree. “It’s been ten years since that, now that I think about it.”
“You’re 25? Or 26?” Graham confirmed the last one. “We’re only a year apart, then. I’m 27.”
Graham nodded in understanding and took their empty plates to throw the few crumbs in the trash, and while forming another sentence in his mind to keep talking, he opened the trash can and got a surprise. “What the fu- my trousers are in the trash!”
“Oh, there’s that… I was struggling a bit with your trousers, when I could take it off ya, I was fuming and just threw it there, my fault.” Damon explained, sounding guilty. “Hope I didn’t ruin it.”
Graham picked up the jeans and examined it. “It’s fine.” He placed it on his shoulders and threw the crumbles on the trash can and left the plates in the sink. “Do you… have a job?”
“Oh, yeah. Kinda, I’m an actor,” Damon seemed excited suddenly, “at least, I try to be. When I don’t have any roles, I’m a support keyboardist.”
“Musician, then?” He sat on his place again, leaving the jeans on the pile of clothes on the other chair.
“Maybe. I’m a musical actor, y’know.” Graham threw him a malicious look and Damon furrowed his brows back again. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You definitely thought something.”
“Forget it, keep going.”
Damon stared at him for an instant. “You’re really handsome.” He breathed out like it was nothing and Graham broke eye contact, getting shy once again. “Anyway, I’m into music, but I’m not in a band or anything. I do write some songs sometimes, but nothing much.”
“Can I listen to some of… your songs any day?” Graham got even more embarrassed, saying that stupidity to someone who was convinced it was a one-night thing, but Damon didn’t bother much, though he looked deep in thought.
“If we meet again, sure.” Graham felt a bit better with the response. “And you?”
“Uhm, painter. I sell my paintings, and that’s mostly it.”
“My mum’s a painter too! Never met many painters before, tell me more.”
“I don’t really know what-“
“Tell me, like, what you feel when you paint.”
“Right… I don’t really know, it depends on what I’m painting, I guess; but most of the time I’m just struggling with anxiety to finish the canvas within the deadline.” He heard Damon giggle. “I’m into music, too. I play a bunch of instruments, and give a try to making some tunes, but I focus a lot more on my paintings.”
“Oh, we could be in a band together one of these days.”
The little joke brought Graham back to reality, the one where they should make it casual and not see each other again. He was starting to accept he don’t want Damon to leave, but to stay there, talking to him, wasting their time on that Sunday.
As a coincidence to make him even sadder, Damon got up from his chair readjusting his fly. “I think I must go.”
“Uh… right. Your shoes are by the door.” Graham got up and walked to the living room, Damon following him.
He observed the mess around him again, sighing in tiredness. “I think you need to tidy up the place.”
“Me too.” Damon chuckled, getting his shoes on, and Graham only watched him as he ran out of time. He only had one chance, it wouldn’t hurt. Damon turned around and his smile appeared before Graham. He fretted it would be the last time.
How long would it take to forget a stranger’s smile? He didn’t want to find out.
“C-can I have your number?”
The blond man showed surprise at that, gaping slightly, wordless for a moment. “Is that another of your mannerisms after shagging someone?”
“I think we know too much of each other to consider it a one-night stand anymore.” He was timid but smiled anyway. Damon agreed with him on that.
Yet, he was quiet again, his blue eyes burning on Graham’s skin all the while. “Can I kiss you?” Graham could picture his head exploding after hearing that. He got nervous, apprehensive, and happy, all in a second. He had no reason to make him wait, so he rapidly nodded yes. “Then the answer is yes as well. Are there some pen and paper?”
Graham ran to his bedroom, figuring a random receipt from something he bought two days ago and a pen on the floor, going back with them in hands. Damon was having fun in seeing him so agitated but didn’t mention it. He wrote his — Graham was wishing the man wasn’t deceiving him and it was his actual — phone number on the back of the receipt and handed it back to the brunette, who grasped it like Paul McCartney had just signed it.
When he got the pen back, Damon immediately pulled him for a kiss. It was very gentle and caring, like he didn’t want to bother, and the hand he placed on Graham’s nape caressed the hair it reached. Graham wasn’t unfamiliar with that touch, that hand, that place. The kiss craved for more, they could both feel it, but neither progressed into it. Instead, they just made it a long touch of lips, and it was sufficient for them.
Damon broke the kiss with a jolly grin, satisfied with it. He mouthed a ‘goodbye’ and left before Graham could even register it. He forgot his headache existed during the kiss, and it was slowly coming back.
He didn’t want to be in love. He didn’t expect to be in love. A man, a one-night thing, the memory loss, all of it indicated that it wasn’t supposed to go any further with other encounters or feelings. Yet, Graham was so excited, his heart was beating so fast and he didn’t know anymore what to do for the rest of the day. He wanted to call him already.
He shook his head to forget all of this, he didn’t want to believe he was desperate for him, a man he knew for only a few hours, and the big part of these few he can’t even remember. He stared at the records on the ground and Damon’s “you need to tidy up this place” echoed in his mind. He didn’t want insects living under his stuff or anything of the kind, so maybe he should start and neat the house.
Alright, back to real life.