Matched

It was in one of these periods on Friday morning that his phone suddenly started buzzing in his hands. When he saw the name he dropped the phone in alarm. Damien was calling him. Who called?! He had expected maybe a text first, he felt underprepared.

He picked up the phone and connected the call.

"Hello?" He said lamely.

"Good morning Elliot, how are you?" Damien's voice was as clear and commanding over the phone as it had been in person. An easy confidence that Elliot had never been blessed with.

"I'm okay thanks," he said and Damien made a surprised noise.

"Really? Then how come you haven't gone into work for three days?"

"How did you know that?!" Elliot asked horrified. Was he stalking him? Had he gone to his office? Did everyone know?

"I saw on the app you haven't left your home. Which one are you? Number 5 or number 7?"

"Number 5... why?"

The doorbell rang and he started out of bed.

"Don't keep me waiting, it's raining."

*

Damien hung up the call and Elliot stood in his room lamely holding the phone to his ear, frozen in shock. He looked down at his scruffy pyjamas and decided to throw a large black hoodie over his slightly stained t shirt, then he ran downstairs to the kitchen and quickly tried to tidy up his housemates messy plates and pans into an empty cupboard out of sight. The doorbell rang again and he gave a final cursory look around the room. It was drab, dirty, but the best he could do.

He ran to the front door and flung it open, panting slightly. Damien stood under a smart black umbrella, he was wearing a tailored bottle green suit that complemented his dark features perfectly. He gave Elliot a look up and down and his smile pulled up on one side again, a look Elliot was beginning to associate with amusement at his expense.

"Not expecting visitors?" He said.

"No," he said disgruntled.

"One should always be prepared for unexpected arrivals Elliot. After all you didn't catch me in my pyjamas."

An image of Damien in pyjamas swam across his mind, it seemed strange and unnatural. This man surely couldn't exist if not in a trim smart suit. Were there such things as suit pyjamas?

"Can I come in?" Damien prompted and Elliot started out of his daydream.

"Oh! Yes, of course. I'm sorry it's a bit messy..."

"No problem, we can't all afford staff to tidy up for us."

The comment was passing, but it made Elliot blink in surprise. Was he really that wealthy that he had not just a cleaner but 'staff'? His surprise was either not noticed or simply ignored as Damien walked past him straight into the kitchen.

"A nice place you have, cosy."

"It's not mine, I rent it with a couple of mates."

"I see," Damien nodded, examining the kitchen. "You should ask your landlord for this kitchen to be seen to. I am not so stingy for my tenants."

"You have tenants?"

"Oh yes, I have quite a nice property in Kensington. But it seemed a shame to waste it for just my occasional visits to London, so I rent it."

"Oh, cool.." Elliot said lamely, not sure what to say.

"Tea?" Damien said.

"Oh yeah, milk?"

"Please," he said, settling himself on the nearby chair. He was well mannered enough not to comment on the sticky substance that seemed to have dripped onto the side of the seat.

He made the tea in the cleanest mug he could find and sat opposite Damien. It had felt strange being in his world yesterday, it felt all the stranger Damien being in his.

Damien made no comment at the Baby Yoda image on the mug and sipped as if it was a fine China teacup.

"I'm here with a proposal for you Elliot," Damien said putting down his tea and looking at him with that interested glint in his eye he had had yesterday.

"I would like you to accompany me to my home for the weekend. Its not far out of London and I'm sure you would find it more than agreeable.

"No, thank you but I'm happy to stay here."

"No?" Damien repeated, his hand clenched. Elliot stood trying to hide his nervousness, turning his back on him as if making another cup of tea for himself.

"Yeah, I mean I reckon the app has made a mistake with us, and it might be best to-"

Damien stood so fast the chair skittered across the floor, Elliot span around and backed into the wall behind him as Damien came right up to him. Elliot pressed his back into the wall cringing as Damien put a hand on the wall above his shoulder looking down at him, the height difference painfully obvious at this close distance.

"I can tolerate your childish manner, your lack of housekeeping, but I will not tolerate rudeness."

Elliot stared up at him in complete shock, frozen like a startled rabbit. Damiens angry expression softened slightly, but he didn't move away from him, if anything he seemed to get closer.

"I do not mean to lose my temper, I understand why you are finding this difficult. You are confronting the undeniable truth of your sexuality perhaps before you were ready. But make no mistake, the matching was correct. I can see it in your eyes whether you believe it or not."

Elliot tried to break his eye contact, but he couldn't, he felt like he was drowning in those black eyes. His scent was strong and hypnotising, he felt an urge to close the gap between them and kiss him.

"I'll ask you again, would you like to accompany me this weekend?"

"Yes," Elliot breathed, almost feeling drunk. He felt as Damien's hand lowered to his face, brushing the hair lightly from his eyes. His touch made his stomach clench and his heart beat in his ears. He moved forward, his face closing the gap towards Damien.

He pulled away suddenly, and Elliot felt the surge of disappointment. He wanted to be close to him, and yet that desire confused him. He lifted a hand to his head trying to calm the raging thoughts inside and sagged against the wall. Damien either didn't notice or chose to ignore this as he drank the last of his tea and walked to the door.

"Excellent," he said "Hector will wait for you in the car, but please don't keep him waiting too long. I will join you for dinner this evening, I have some things to attend to here first. Feel free to take a look around, the grounds are quite lovely at this time of year."

Chapter Three - The Parker Estate

Elliot watched the black umbrella moving away out the window. He felt numb, partly in confusion from what had just happened and partly from the absence of Damien. Elliot realised that his emotions and senses seemed to be heightened when around Damien. He didn't like that, or maybe he did? His brain span. Had he tried to kiss him?

He remembered sluggishly that a car was waiting for him. He had to pack. What would he pack? Twenty minutes later he had managed to scrounge together some clothes, his tatty work suits, the suit he wore to a family wedding a year ago. He decided hoodies and Nike trainers weren't Damien's style.

He left the apartment and looked out into the rain sodden streets at the black car across from him. He walked over holding his backpack over his head and the window rolled down slightly, enough to see a black chauffeurs cap and sunglasses.

"Name?" A voice said from the gap in the window.

"Elliot Green?" He shouted over the hammering rain, and the driver nodded.

"Get in," he said and Elliot opened the back door and jumped in, slamming the door behind him.

"Wonderful weather we are having Mr Green," the driver Hector said.

"Yeah it's pretty crazy," Elliot said, settling into the seat and doing his seatbelt. "Um do you mind if we stop off somewhere on the way?"

"No problem, where did you

have in mind?" Hector asked.

"I need to buy some more smart clothes, suits and stuff" he said looking at his meagre backpack.

"Of course, Saville Row?"

"Er no, bit expensive, maybe an M&S or something?"

The driver smiled, he could see in the mirror and agreed.

He didn't have much of a bank balance but spend what he could on two new suits. They didn't fit quite as well as Damien's tailored ones but at least he wouldn't feel quite so inferior as he had in his pyjamas and tatty old work suits. Once back in the car the driver continued on out of London. After a short silence the driver looked in the mirror at him a couple of times, eventually he spoke.

"Forgive me but, I think Mr Parker will be very pleased that you have spent so much money and effort to please him," he said.

"Please him?" Elliot frowned.

"Why yes, the suits are for him aren't they? So you look nice for him?"

Elliot didn't reply, slumping back into his seat and looking down at the shopping bags. That wasn't why he had bought them, he had bought them so he didn't feel so cheap when in Damien's home, unable to bear wearing his hoodies and joggers around the man who embodied finery and finesse. It wasn't to please him... or was it? True, he had thought about what Damien would think, had planned on wearing one of them for dinner. Was that really because he wanted to please him? Like a puppy and a new trick? A moment of clarity reminded him he was on his way to his home, a virtual stranger. Not only that but a stranger who had told him off, but somehow Elliot didn't mind.

Was he expecting sex? The sudden thought made him sit upright, swearing under his breath. How had he only just thought about this? He was voluntarily walking straight into this guys home and he could be a psychopath.

"You alright there Mr Green?" Hector asked.

"Yeah, I just need to make a phone call," he said, half expecting the driver to refuse him.

He called one of his housemates, wanting to tell him where he was going, make sure someone knew. But as the phone rang and rang, he considered that. Was he ready for everyone to know that he was gay? That he had been matched with a man?

"Alright El how ya doing?"Dean answered, one of his closest, oldest friends.

"Yeah alright, listen mate I have to go away for the weekend, I-" he hesitated, unsure whether he could be brave enough. "I just wanted to let you know, in case you were worried."

He slumped back feeling like a coward.

"Alright no worries man, thanks for letting me know. Hey Emma says any luck on Matched yet?"

"No," he said in what he thought was an incredibly unconvincing voice "nothing yet."

"Ah she's out there man, dont worry. Probably taking her time downloading the app just like you did."

He made a noise of agreement, in his head he considered bitterly that up until two days ago the imaginary girl was out there. He had always imagined a red headed girl with green eyes, walking through a park, looking at him with laughter in her eyes. Now, the girl melted into Damien in his bottle green suit, those dark eyes glimmering with unspoken thoughts, the small smile pulling at one side of his mouth. With a twinge of surprise and horror he felt the warmth in his loins and the unmistakable twitch of his cock.

"Gotta go man, see ya soon" he said quickly and hung up, running a hand through his hair, trying to push those eyes and that smile from his mind. He opened the window and breathed the fresh air, trying not to think about the days ahead.

*

It was early afternoon by the time they were driving off the motorway and along winding country roads.

"Here we are Mr Green," Hector said as they slowed, driving up to a set of double iron gates which opened at an invisible command.

Elliot looked out the car window at the high hedgerows lining the driveway, carefully pruned. Suddenly the hedges gave way and Elliot felt his mouth fall open. Before him was a house worthy of a BBC period drama. A huge mansion of sandy brick, long thin paned windows, embellished with decorative stone patterns, arches and pillars. Front and centre was a set of pale stone steps leading to a broad black door, emblazoned with a brass knocker and round handle.

As the car slowed he stepped out of the car and looked around. The gravel crunched under his feet, he could see a grassy garden to his left that stretched as far as he could see. In the distance a copse of trees, a sculpture, even a large water fountain.

"All this is his?" Elliot said in wonder.

"Oh yes" Hector said "it's the family estate but the family live abroad now except for the young Mr Parker."

Hector reached into the car and picked up Elliot's bags.

"Oh, don't worry I can carry them," Elliot protested but Hector shook his head.

"Please Mr Green it's my job, head up to the door there, the housekeeper will show you where to go."

Reluctantly Elliot left the driver to carry his things and walked up the stone steps to the door. As he approached the door opened and a middle aged woman in a uniform shirt and long skirt smiled.

"Good afternoon, you must be Mr Green, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please come in," she said ushering him in to the grand hall, an elegant staircase took centre stage in the room, it was breathtaking.

"Wow, this place is incredible," he said, turning to look at every detail, a beautiful chandelier hung above him.

The housekeeper led him up the stairs and to a large bedroom on the right.

"This is the bedroom Mr Parker has chosen for you, it is one of the nicest ones in the house."

"This room is bigger than my entire house," he said quietly and the housekeeper laughed, the bed alone was almost the size of his whole bedroom. She showed him to the bathroom, the dining room and a couple of other rooms before leaving him to explore.

He wandered the halls of the mansion in awe.

'This place is beautiful,' he thought. He walked into what looked like a formal sitting room when something on the wall caught his eye.

It was a painting of three people. A man with a strong moustache, grey hair and a cane stood behind a high backed chair. In the chair was a woman with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes, and beside the chair, a hand rested on his mother's was a teenage boy of about 16. Even at that age, and in painting form there was no mistaking Damien's striking features. The artist had caught those black eyes and hard jaw perfectly, even then he had a look of confidence and control in his face that made Elliots breath catch.

He spend the afternoon walking the grounds of the mansion, they seemed to go on forever, and when he finally reached where the boundary line met fields, something told him that the fields were likely Parker land too.

Soon it began to darken and he decided he should head back. He headed to the bedroom the housekeeper had shown him and found his bags had been placed at the foot of the large double bed. He fished inside for one of the suits he had bought earlier and put it on, brushing out the creases and pulling out the tags. He swore internally that he forgot to buy new shoes as he put on his brown work shoes.

He used a wet comb to brush through his hair and tried to pat down the bit that always stuck up at the back. Sighing he threw the comb away and looked at his reflection. The dark blue suit was clearly ill fitted, the sleeves were too short, the shoulders to big, but at least he looked smarter than he had on his last two meetings.

He was surprised to feel himself getting nervous, he wished he knew what time he was expected to arrive. He felt like a school child waiting for the bell to go home.

He played a game on his phone for a bit until he heard the unmistakable sound of gravel out of the window. A black cab pulled up on the drive below, even as the day was turning dark there was no mistaking him.

Elliot stood and walked from the room into the hallway, standing at the top of the stairs as the front door opened. Damien came in, looking preoccupied, his brow furrowed, putting his briefcase down by the door and taking off his coat with a sigh. He glanced up and caught sight of Elliot stood at the top of the stairs awkwardly. He straightened up, his face lightening with the same smile that had haunted Elliot all day, his eyes sparking and laughed, it was the first time Elliot had heard it. A genuine laugh, it lifted his stern expression for a moment, he liked it.

"Well well, don't we brush up well when we want to," he said and Elliot shrugged.

"Thought I should work on my childish manner," Elliot said surprisingly cool, he hadn't planned on saying it, but something about seeing Damien laugh had made his nervous knot ease slightly, gain a bit of his own confidence. Damien's eyebrows furrowed, for the first time he looked a little sad.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, it was incredibly rude and has been on my mind all day."

"It's forgotten," Elliot said, and Damien smiled.

"Although I like the suit, perhaps next time I could get one tailored for you?"

"I'd like that," Elliot said, and walked down the stairs. "Your home is beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it. Come, I think dinner is ready."

The dinner was delicious, it felt strange to have a chef, a housekeeper, a driver, all these people ready to serve. But he couldn't deny it was exciting.

"So I have been meaning to tell you," Damien said between the main course and dessert, "I have a small cocktail event planned here tomorrow night. Its for networking purposes, but I was hoping you would attend?"

Elliot hesitated, a party? Others knowing about their match?

"As a friend?"

"Well," Damien said, picking up his wine and leaning back in his chair. "There lies the only catch. We can say you are a friend, but those in attendance are the nearest to friends I have and they know I am not one to invite a friend I have known for such a short time into my home. Say you're family, don't take this the wrong way but however smartly we dress you I think they would see through that you were not born into the same class as them. They won't be rude, but they won't believe it. That leaves, the truth, that you're my match. They would have no expectations of you as I would never show my affections candidly in public, you only need to be present and not totally adversed to being known as my match. Your thoughts?"

Elliot considered his words, it was true he would never pass as family and he had a fair point about being a friend. He also knew that Damien wasn't likely to make him uncomfortable in public, it wasn't his style. And of course, people would have to find out eventually, wouldn't it be easier to confess to Damien's friends before his own?

"Okay," he said shakily.

"Ok?" Damien said.

"Yeah, okay. The truth."

Damien smiled, but said nothing more in the subject.

When dinner was finished Damien beckoned him into the room with the painting, he glanced at it for a moment over the crackling fire and sighed.

"I hate that painting," he said with a disgusted voice. "But the only thing to confirm a visit from my wonderful parents is my darling housekeeper telling them that I took down their beloved painting."

"I saw it earlier, it's pretty incredible, they caught your jolly demeanour."

Damien made a disgruntled noise as he poured two whiskeys before gesturing to a chess board.

"Do you know how to play?"

"No," Elliot admitted.

"Then I'll teach you, sit."

They began the game of chess. Elliot drank the whiskey with Damien, it was a lot better than Jack Daniels. He was trying not to think about how much each sip probably cost.

"I'm happy you agreed to come," Damien said midway through the game, breaking a silence that had fallen through concentration.

"You didn't give me much choice, but I am glad I came. It really is beautiful here."

"You seem more comfortable here than I expected," Damien said, looking at the chess pieces, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward over the board. "I wasn't sure if it would... overwhelm you."

"It's a lot," Elliot admitted, glancing down at his hands and then at Damien's concentrated face. He was so close, he caught a subtle scent of him, watched the fire light flecks of his hair like they were dancing in the coal strands. He breathed out slowly, "but I think the shock of this whole thing is starting to wear off."