It was the end of the day now, and I still had not fully processed what had happened earlier this morning. I had been visibly distracted all day to the point where I almost let a customer go with their purchase without taking payment. My mind was elsewhere, replaying what I had seen and heard, and what I had done with Matthew. I actually hadn't seen Matthew, or Rob for that matter, since then. I wouldn't want to see him anyway, I feel embarrassed that he let me slip up like that, that he lured me. All those times I thought I was sneaking in a glance, take advantage of his boisterous attitude, he either knew or was baiting me on purpose.
I don't even know this man, we have barely had two conversations, and both of those were work-related. There's been nothing of substance between us, I couldn't even tell you his last name, he's practically a stranger that I work with. Yet... he's alluring, captivating, there's something inside his deep eyes that makes me want to sink into him. He has a way of taking control of me, and he knows it. I can tell that he sees something in me too, he sees a man who wants to be guided, a man who wants to be told what to do. Maybe the reason why I haven't really taken a moment to get to know him is because there's some primal instinct between us. I only need a look, a smell, a touch from him, and I open myself up.
The store was closed, and everyone had gone home for the day. Again, I was here for another hour to clean up the store. As I finish clearing the fitting rooms, I see him walking between our formalwear fixtures. He hasn't seen me yet. I take a deep breath and walk towards him.
"Need any assistance, sir?" I say, walking up behind Matthew.
He jolts, and turns around. "You scared the shit outta me, Blake." He laughs, putting a hand to his abdomen.
"Sorry, I, uh," I can tell I'm smiling as I try to catch his eye, but he has already turned back around. "Well, if you're alright, I'll leave you be. The fitting room is clean if you want to use it."
He turns around and I catch his eyes. It's a deep blue, the same color as the sky on a cold morning just before the sun has risen. "I was actually hoping to catch you here," he finally says. "I just wanted to talk to you about something."
I feel a lump in my throat form and my face starting to burn. My tongue dries and my lungs struggle to breath. I don't know if this is a conversation I've been dreading to have or dying to have. "Oh?" Is all I manage.
"Yeah... Uh," he starts, clearly feeling awkward himself. "Just about this morning."
"Oh." Is still all I manage.
"Yeah, I just wanted to clarify that it was all just a bit of fun, just a joke between us men, you know?" He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. My shoulder tingles from his touch.
I don't know how to react, but I shouldn't be surprised. A little part of me always thought it was too good to be true, that maybe he was just a bit of a flirt, even if he didn't mean to be one. I look into his eyes again, expecting to find them pleading or at least concerned, but to me they seem calm as ever, soft as ever, flirtatious as ever. Even the rest of his body language seemed so nonchalant as though what he is saying is not really what he means... Or maybe I'm just reading into it a bit too much, trying to see what I want and not what is there.
"Of course! I haven't even thought about it since if I'm being honest." I fake a laugh, trying to lay it on thick, but as soon as I say it I see Matthew's face drop ever so slightly, and only for a split second.
He pats me on the shoulder, "Thanks man, I just know young people can get confused some times with this kind of stuff." He lowers his hand and turns back around.
I'm left standing there, even more confused about Matthew. I know I saw his face drop when I lied about not having thought about our interaction in the bathroom, but I can't help but feel that I'm reading into it, that I'm only seeing what I want to see. But... But I did see something, I'm sure of it.
"Actually, I wouldn't mind your help with this, if you don't mind?" He breaks me out of my head, and gestures to the rail of trousers. "Need to get some more work pants."
My chest begins to flutter again. There's something about this man that I just can't help but feel excited about being around.
"Sure, do you know your waist size?" I respond.
"I think I'm about a 34 inch, maybe a 32 inch. I haven't bought pants in a while." He says, flicking through the black pants we have. "Actually, do you mind measuring me?"
He turns around to me, and gestures his waist to me.
"Oh, uh, sure," I stumble, not expecting to do this.
I pull out the measuring tape from my pocket and unfurl it. I bend down slightly and I swing my hand around his body, holding on to one end of the measuring tape with my other hand. I grab onto the other end of the tape and wrap it around his waist, meeting the two ends right in front of his belt buckle. Funny to think my hand was in this same area only 12 hours ago. I lean down to read what I have measured, and being this close to him I can smell his natural musk. It's salty and tangy, it really should be a gross smell, but the pheromones fill my nose and pollute my mind.
I come up for air.
"You're not quite 34 inches around, but we'll start there and see how the rest of it fits." I finally say, looking him directly into his eyes. I don't know how long my face was down next to his pants, it felt like an eternity and a millisecond all at once.
"Perfect, I've got them right here. Won't be a second." He walks off with pants in hand towards the fitting rooms. I wait a second, rolling up my measuring tape and putting it back into my pocket, and then finally start towards the fitting rooms.
I enter the fitting room, and Matthew has already claimed one of the stalls.
"How'd you go?" I call out.
He opens the door of his stall and struts out. "Too big," he says, pulling the waistband of the pants to show quite a big gap. Even with the add material of his tucked in shirt, the pants are falling off him.
"Oh yeah, way too big, and they're bagging around your ankle too," I respond. "I can see if we've got a slimmer fit?"
"Actually," Matthew starts, "Do you mind remeasuring my waist? I feel like a 34 inch is too big."
"I can just get you the 32 inch pants, no need to remeasure-"
"I just think that your first measurement was a bit inaccurate because my belt and pants were in the way, and I'd rather get it exactly right."
Before I can say another word, Matthew undoes the pants he's wearing and pulls them off, one leg at a time. He throws the pants to a couch opposite him, leaving him standing in the middle of the fitting room in his underwear and shirt. My mouth coats itself in sand, dried up and agape. I can't help myself but look at him. It was one thing to feel his bulge with my hand, it's another thing to see it in all his glory. He's wearing tight white briefs, his balls and his cock perfectly nestled inside. I'm trying to make out a more defined outline through the thin fabric, but I don't want to be caught staring for too long. I think back to how he felt, the shape of his cock beneath two layers of fabric. I can feel myself start to stiffen in my own pants. I follow his body down to his thighs, they look strong and overwhelming, and are covered in dark hair. I want to hold his thighs, grapple onto them like my life depended on it, I want to feel their strength and comfort, their warmth and force. I try to subtly adjust my own pants to hide my erection, but I don't think it worked.
I snap out of my trance. He's already drawn the line with us, this means nothing to him so it can't mean anything to me. To him, standing here in his underwear is something that men do with no expectation, or even inclination, of anything sexual.
"Right, I'll remeasure you then." I say as I pull out the tape from my pocket.
