This story is very loosely based on some of my own experiences. The names of the characters have been changed for the protection of all.
It's worth also noting that all characters are over 18 and were consenting adults.
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I guess I should start by letting you know a little about myself. I'm a 20 year old guy who works as a junior in a boring office job. The company themselves seem to be on the way to greater things, but I'm so far down the chain that all I do is work with the IT team on software changes. I moved away from home just after my 18th and since moving from a small dormitory town to one of the larger cities about 50 miles from my home. I've realised that you need to grab life with both hands, or it slips by.
Although I was kind of known as "the young guy who doesn't know what he wants", there was no real LBGT scene where I lived. I was lucky enough to be accepted by most of my home community as the person I am without too much negativity. However, coming from a small town meant that any realistic chances of meeting someone properly compatible were almost nil.
Moving to the city was a step up and I kept my bisexuality quiet so that I could quietly find my own space. This was all the more important with my job as I was very aware that conservatism was paramount for the company's image.
I have been working hard to make sure that I pass my probationary period, but over the last few months I had started to notice one of the more senior managers in the firm.
Peter is a section head in another department. We meet professionally about once a month at work but often cross paths in my local pub too as I live near to him. He is a genial sort and seems to stick with his own cohort of similarly aged guys in the pub, however he has acknowledged me, and we have exchanged pleasantries.
He is a broadly built man with greying hair. His appearance both inside and outside of work would be considered more formal as he tends to wear suits or blazers. In some ways he reminds me of my old headmaster from secondary school. Overall, it's the immaculate attention to detail that initially caught my eye. He has never, ever hinted that he wasn't anything other than straight but, after chatting one evening to one of the regular the barmen, Peter is single.
I should start at the beginning, I guess. I had been working hard for the week and decided that I deserved a cool beer or two. With any luck I would meet up with someone incredibly sexy and have a fabulous weekend in bed. Or, more likely, go for a drink in town and come home alone, again!
I got home from work and showered, making sure that I was looking as presentable as possible. I changed into skinny white jeans and a close-fitting tee before wandering off to my local bar. My plan was to have a drink or two there, before meandering into town and finding somewhere a bit livelier for a Friday night out.
As it was early, the bar was relatively quiet, although my colleague from work, Peter, was there. He nodded to me as I waked in and continued drinking with his mates. I ordered a cool lager and went to sit outside and enjoyed the warm summer sunshine. About 1/2 an hour later I went in to refill my pint and happened to be standing beside Peter as I stood waiting my turn.
"How's it going?" he asked. "I've not seen much of you at work this week."
"I've been busy with the IT upgrade, so I haven't been to any meetings this week. How's everything going with your project?" I asked.
"Its going ok, thanks. I thought I would see you in the meeting on Wednesday though." Peter responded. "It seemed strange without you in the meeting."
I looked at him, there was a definite glint in his eyes. Did he really mean what he said, or was he teasing me?
"Oh, what did I miss" I asked.
Peter smiled and looked directly into my eyes. "It wasn't that you missed anything, more a case that you were missed."
A slow smile crept across his face. "Why don't I buy you a drink and we can sit and have a chat?" he continued. "What would you like?" As he asked, one of the bar girls came over and started to pour a pint for Peter, so without hesitating I asked for a lager.
We walked back out into the beer garden and sat in the warm evening sunshine.
"Thanks!" I said to Peter as I raised my glass for a sip.
He smiled and took a drink from his glass. "So how are you settling in? I know that you moved away from home to get this job." He asked.
"I'm doing ok thanks. I've got a decent enough bedsit and there's a shop and laundrette nearby, so I've been feeding myself and keeping presentable. My mum seems OK with me being here, and as long as I call her about once a week, she says that she'll leave me to get on with things."
"That's good." He answered. "So, have you got to make any friends while being here?"
"Not really." I said. "I know a few people from work, but most have families of their own and have things they need to do outside of work. I just come home and have something to eat before going out for a walk or go out to the cinema or pub most of the time."
"So, no girlfriend then?" he asked.
"I don't have anyone special at the moment" I replied trying to avoid the specifics of his question.
We sat and sipped our drinks for the moment.
"Without sounding corny," I asked "do you come to this pub on a regular basis? Only I seem to see you almost every time I come in here."
Peter chuckled. "I've been drinking here almost nightly for nearly 30 years. I've made some good friends here and now that we are older, us old codgers meet up most evenings to put the world to rights. It doesn't change anything, but it beats sitting in-font of a TV alone all night."
I smiled and nodded my head. I wasn't really one for TV either, so being single and living on my own I appreciated his situation. "I don't actually have a TV," I replied, "but even if I did I think I would prefer to get out and be with people instead of sitting in a bedsit."
Peter finished his pint as one of the staff walked close by. He allowed his empty glass to be taken and asked the young woman to bring two more pints to our table. "I hope you are ok having another?" he asked. "Unless of course, you need to dash."
"That's very kind of you Peter, I'll have to buy the next round though! I answered.
"So you live in a bedsit, is it far from here?" He asked
"No, I'm only just down the road near the old tennis courts." I replied. The tennis courts were open to the public but used more often by teenagers to hang out in rather than pay any games in. There was a sports centre not too far from where I lived that had superior indoor facilities which had effectively made the outside courts redundant, even though they were free to use.
"You're not too far from me then. I live just off the main road by the post office." Peter remarked.
Our fresh beers arrived, and our conversation meandered as the evening drew on until we decided to move inside into the bar as the air became cooler after sunset.
I stepped up to the bar and asked Peter what he wanted to drink, insisting that I get at least one round in during the evening. I had already drunk several cool pints and was beginning to feel a buzz from the lager, but the volume of liquid made me need to use the Gents. Peter accepted my offer of a beer and let me pay. After finding a vacant table I left Peter and stood at the urinal, sighing with relief as I discharged what let like several pints.
