Striking the Match

"Yeah. No. I don't know. I need some air. I'll talk to you later." He looked at Noah awkward and unsure what to say. So he just gave a curt nod and half walked half ran from the restaurant.

Once outside he braced his hands on his knees for a minute, breathing in deep lungfuls of air. Once the world stopped spinning he began to walk down the street, heading towards a park he had seen on the way there and hopefully a free bench. He found one right by the entrance and sat heavily on it, putting his head in his hands.

A few minutes later the sound of tuneful and cheerful whistling broke the loud confusing mess swirling in his brain and he lifted his head slightly. Leaning against the gate post casually was Noah. He was wearing a grey coat, his collar pulled up against the London chill, his hair picking up the sun like strands of gold. How did people wander around actually looking like that? He grinned at Charlie and raised his hands in surrender.

"I swear I'm not a stalker. Well, actually I did follow you. But with good intentions. I would never let someone I care about leave in the sort of state you are now, let alone my supposed soulmate," he said the word so casually, as if he didn't know it made Charlie's head spin.

He sat frozen as Noah walked over, settling himself on the bench next to him with a heavy sigh.

"I'm being a dick. I'm sorry. My mates say I'm an arsehole at times. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

"It's fine, it's not you it's just..." Charlie tailed off unable to express the muddled emotions coursing through his whole body.

"A shock," Noah finished for him. "I understand, your ex, Lydia was it? She was explaining it all before you got there. Look, how about I give you my number and you call me when you've got your head around this whole thing and wanna chat, ok? I'm not going anywhere."

He reached into his pocket and scribbled a number onto the back. "This is my card but the number on the front will take you to the office, this is my personal number."

He held out the card and Charlie took it numbly, he looked at the digits written neatly in black pen, and then flipped it over to read Hannigan Solicitors.

"Are you a lawyer or something?"

"The family business," he said, standing and extending a hand. "Good to meet you Charlie, I hope you give me a call soon."

Charlie breathed out a hitched breath and shook his hand, it was strong and warm. He shook it with the confidence of someone who did it often and then turned and walked away. Charlie could still feel the tingling on his skin from the touch for several hours later.

He didn't know what got him to eventually rise to his feet, perhaps it was the darkening street, or the rain that had begun to pour more and more steadily as he sat, watching the droplets puddle around his feet. But he stood and trudged head low out of the park. He felt tired, hungry and strangely lonely. Like everything he thought he knew about himself was a lie. He didn't remember the tears starting to fall, but he noted the warmth of them on his cheeks compared to the icy chill of the rain. He walked to a nearby shop and bought a bottle of vodka. The assistant didn't ask what was wrong, but handed over the bottle and watched him warily as he left the shop. He drank the vodka straight from the bottle in large stinging gulps, feeling it's numbing affects gratefully and shuddering at the metallic flavour. He kept walking, unaware of where he was going until he was at the door.

He took it in at last, realising that he had walked to his old home with Lydia. He paused, realising his mistake, and considered turning around. But instead his shaking hand pressed the doorbell. There was a few seconds where he could have left, gone back to Ben's, but his body was too drained to move. He gazed, straight forward, the door blurring with the tears that were pooling in his eyes and from the affects of the vodka. He swayed. He felt like a stranger in his own body.

"Charlie," Lydia's voice sounded from far away, as if down a long tunnel as she opened the blurred grey door, he blinked, the blurring subsiding as the hot tears fell down his cheeks. He saw her, makeup free, pyjama clad, she looked like she might have been crying too. "Oh Charlie," she said, and her voice was pained.

"I-" Charlie began to speak and was put off by the drunken slur to his voice, he didn't realise quite how much he had drunk. "Can I come in, please?" On the please, his voice broke slightly and fresh tears fell down his face.

He watched Lydia give him a pained look and then nodded, "yes, of course you can."

He stumbled in, leaning against the wall. She shut the door behind them and turned to him, he stood against the wall his eyes closed.

"Charlie, how much have you drunk?"

"Um, this much," he said, holding up the dregs of the vodka bottle.

Without a word, she led him to the sofa and then disappeared for a glass of water. When she returned she made him drink as much as he could before pouring another. He leaned his head back into the sofa cushions and watched the ceiling spin in strange circles, it was strangely hypnotic.

"Did you talk? With Noah?"

He frowned, why did she have to bring him up. Why couldn't he just watch the patterns?

"Charlie?"

"Yes," he mumbled, "well, not really. He gave me his number and told me to call him when... when I've figured everything out."

"I'm so sorry Charlie, really I am. This is all my fault I never should have tricked you, you were right! You're always right!"

He looked at her then, her blotchy face, her big sad red eyes and stuffy red nose and decided she had learned her lesson.

"It's alright Lydia, I forgive you," he said trying his best not to slur his words.

Her eyes shone, "you do?!"

"Yes, I know you meant well. You know you fucked up, I forgive you."

She smiled sheepishly and then began to cry.

"Don't cry, Lydia," he groaned but she laughed.

"Im not crying because I'm sad, I'm just... so... relieved. I thought you would hate me forever, and I just- I couldn't-" she broke down in sobs, and he patted her back softly, at least in his drunken state he hoped it was softly.

She wiped her eyes and smiled at him again, and before he knew it she had leaned in and kissed him softly. It felt nice, and the part of him that loved Lydia began to rise again. He ran a hand along her cheek and they kissed again, more fervently this time.

He felt her hand press into his chest and then slowly move down to his crotch. He gasped slightly as she squeezed it, and she giggled into his mouth. The sensation was incredible, and combined with her rubbing of his crotch he felt his cock stiffen.

He moaned as Lydia pulled away, quickly unbuttoning his trousers and before his semi- drunk mind could realise what she was doing he felt her warm mouth close around his cock. He moaned in pleasure at the feeling, biting his lip and resting his hand gently on her beautiful blonde hair.

"Does that feel good baby?" She said between slurps and he nodded.

"Oh god yes," he said and she continued to suck with even more passion.

After a few minutes he leaned forward, taking her face in his hands and kissing her, pulling her up onto the sofa so that she straddled him. She got what he wanted, she quickly pulled down her pyjama shorts barely even breaking the kiss and lowered herself onto him. She breathed out slowly as he pushed into her, a low moan escaping her lips. She felt warm, and tight and he growled in satisfaction as she began to move up and down, riding him, he watched her boobs bounce in the small camisole and smiled. The app was wrong, he was not gay. Noah's silver eyes flashed in his mind and he shook his head to get rid of them, he wanted to be here in this moment with Lydia and her gorgeous body.

They had sex twice more that night, the second time after they got into bed, and the third shortly after he had told Lydia he still loved her. He felt relief coursing through his body. He didn't need Noah or Matched, he had all he needed right here.

*

Only a week or so later he was beginning to doubt that thought. He had rekindled his relationship with Lydia, and although he hadn't moved back in, would stay there most nights. They would have regular passionate sex, more so than they had when they had been together. It was rejuvenating. She was like a new woman, the fright of losing him seemed to have put a new perspective on things for her, going above and beyond.

And yet, every time he put on his coat to go to work he would check his pocket, making sure that Noah's card was still there. He didn't know why, but he felt it's presence as his coat touched its leg like a hot coal, burning through the fabric of his clothing like a constant reminder.

Sometimes at work he would get it out and play with it at his desk, turning it over and over in his hand. He would play out what would happen in his mind, and every time he imagined Noah's voice his stomach flipped in anticipation. It made him uncomfortable how much he wanted to talk to him, not to do anything else, but just to hear his voice. But also he wanted to tell his smug arrogant attitude that he was happy and that he didn't need him.

Spurred on by a particularly good bout of morning sex, Charlie left early to work one day with a spring in his step. He felt confident and collected, and decided today was the day. He reached into his pocket and called the number scrawled on the card before he could overthink what he was doing.

"Noah here, who's calling?"

His voice made him stop short. It hit him like a ton of bricks and made his confidence shrink quicker than a deflating balloon.

"H-hey, it's Charlie," he said eventually, scowling at the stutter in his voice.

"Charlie," his voice lifted when he said his name and he could imagine the smile that came with it painfully clearly. "How are you doing?"

"Good actually," he said squaring his shoulders and beginning to walk again. "I've got back with Lydia."

There was a small silence on the phone until Noah spoke again.

"I see," he said, his voice sounding shorter and more clipped than before.

"Yeah I just thought you ought to know."

"Thank you, very... considerate," Noah sounded almost angry and Charlie felt guilty all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry maybe I shouldn't have called," he said awkwardly.

"No probably not. Did you want anything from me? A congratulations? A pat on the back?"

"No I didn't want anything."

"Then don't call me again Charlie, unless you actually want to talk. That was why I gave you my number after all."

The tone signalled to Charlie that Noah had hung up. He felt an odd flat feeling, it dampened his euphoria. Something about hearing Noah's voice had floored him, and he had to resist calling him back either to yell at him or to apologise. He wasn't sure which.

If he had thought the card had played on his mind before the phone call, it was nothing to the following few days. Suddenly he began to see Noah everywhere, he dreamt about him, he imagined what it would be like to ring him again, what he would say, he played it out so many times his head hurt. He took a couple of nights away to stay at Ben's, telling Lydia that Ben was having a "hard time" as an excuse.

It was on one of these nights that Charlie finally opened up to Ben about everything. He looked at Noah's card and whistled.

"Wow, just... wow. So you're gay?"

"Dude, really?"

"Sorry sorry, I just... wow."

"You're telling me," Charlie said, sipping his beer.

"You know this Hannigan's Law is just around the corner from where you work right?"

"What?" Charlie frowned, grabbing the card. He looked at the address printed in small font, and realised the street was indeed the one that ran parallel to his work.

"Yeah I've seen it, big white house, fancy front."

It was this conversation that led Charlie to walk past the building every day for the following week. He didn't know exactly what he was after, perhaps a glimpse of Noah, or to bump into him casually on the street. But everyday he walked past and didn't see him was a day he would go back to Lydia and have sex, angry sex where he would try hard not to think about him. She got on board and Ben began to raise eyebrows at the scratches and bruises on his neck and arms, but he said nothing. He also said nothing about how Charlie had begun to dress smarter for work, brushing his dark brown hair and polishing his shoes. Charlie tried to convince himself that it was for Lydia's benefit.

Walking past the house one sunny afternoon, he finally saw him in the top left window, pacing and holding a file. He was dressed smartly, blue shirt and trousers, and seemingly in a fervent discussion with someone. Charlie assumed it must be Noah's office. Once he knew that he looked at the window everyday, and most days he would catch a glimpse of him, his back mostly sat at a desk, sometimes a quick snatch of profile. He felt his stomach lurch in excitement every time he saw him, and felt the rush of frustrating emotions that followed the reaction. He wished that it didn't have to be so complicated, but for now watching from a distance seemed to satisfy the itch growing inside him.

His walkbys soon developed into getting coffee daily at the convenient place across the street, sometimes sitting in a window seat and watching. Often he would watch him leave at the end of his day, eyebrows furrowed as he walked a little down the street towards his black car and driving away. Then Charlie would wait a few minutes and trudge his own way home. But some days Noah seemed to stay late into the night, far later than the coffee shop stayed open, and the dark would draw in, his office light lit up in the dusk. He wondered what he was doing up there.

It was one of those days today, he was sat having his third coffee when the staff kindly told him they would be closing soon. He gathered his things and took a last swig of his drink. Up in Noah's office the light was still on, but he hadn't seen sight of him for a while. Sighing, he gave up for the night. Shrugging on his coat and bag and pushing out of the shop, the bell jingling as he went. It was here, when he was stood on the street right across from the house that the door opened, Noah stepping out into the night.

It was dusk, and the street was quiet, most people having already headed home after work, a few pedestrians down the street but no one to hide amongst, he was exposed. He froze, as if thinking sudden movements would make Noah spot him.

He thought he might have gotten away with it, Noah had already gotten down the main steps of the building and was about to turn towards his car when he glanced up. Charlie watched his eyebrows furrow downwards at first, and then he saw the smile begin to break across his face. It was a slow, smug smile, and it annoyed Charlie as much as it caused what felt like a firework to explode inside him, constricting his breathing and causing every muscle to tighten into overdrive.

Noah looked both ways and crossed the street, walking casually, one hand on the bag slung over his shoulder.

"Well well well, now look who's stalking who."

"I wasn't stalking," Charlie said quickly but Noah's smile only grew wider.

"I thought I saw you. The other day in the coffee shop, but I wasn't sure. And on that street corner the week before, I thought maybe I was imagining it but now... It was you, wasn't it?"

His silence and reddening face was enough of an answer.

"How often are you coming here?"

"I work around the corner, I didn't even realise it was where you worked at first," Charlie said, his lie even sounding forced to his own ears.

"Right," Noah said, clearly disbelieving but he didn't seem angry, if anything he sounded rather pleased.

"What are you doing now?" He asked and Charlie hesitated, unsure if he should attempt another lie.

"Nothing, probably just heading home for dinner," he said.

"Me too, how about we go get dinner together? Nothing special just, to catch up?"

Charlie bit his lip, unsure what to say, what this would mean? But then Noah had just caught him essentially stalking him, it probably was the right thing to do to at least have dinner with him, to prove he wasn't mental.

"Okay," he agreed.

Not long later, he found himself sat across from Noah, already a few drinks down as they ate their starters.

"So tell me what you do?" Noah asked and Charlie sighed.

"It's really not very interesting, I'm in social media marketing and I deal with mainly clothing brands, it sounds fun but really it's a lot of time in front of a computer. Not like you being a lawyer in a fancy courtroom."

"I think that sounds interesting, and I'm actually a corporate lawyer, so less courtroom, more board meetings, and also lots of time in front of a computer," he smiled. He was one of those people the seemed to smile with his whole face, and could make you think the whole world stopped just for you. Although, Charlie thought, charisma is probably quite an important part of being a lawyer.

"You said it was a family business?"

"Yes my mum, dad, sister and a few cousins, we all work together."

"Wow, that's pretty impressive," Charlie said and Noah shrugged.

"We were brought up for it, many generations of Hannigan lawyers, we didn't really get a choice. But I'm glad, I like working with my family."

The empty starters left the table and the mains were served. Along with more drinks. Charlie begun to wonder whether Noah was deliberately getting him drunk when he asked the waiter for another round, but shrugged it off, happy for the liquid courage.

Without looking up from the steak he was cutting into, Noah asked casually, "so, how's Lydia?"

"She's good," Charlie said, clutching his drink tightly. "She seems happier than before."

"So how'd it happen? You getting back together I mean."

"Um well, it kind of happened the night we met. I got, quite drunk, very drunk actually and ended up going back to the place out of habit. She looked after me, I told her I forgive her and we...well you probably can work it out."

"Ah I see, so you got so spooked by the possibility of your sexuality being questioned that you jumped back into bed with the first girl you thought would say yes?" Noah said cooly.

Charlie frowned, "no, that's not what happened."

"If you say so," he said and there was a short silence. Charlie are a few bites of food considering what Noah had said.

"I love Lydia," he said firmly after a long pause.

"I never said you didn't."

"Then why are you making me feel bad about it?"

"Because we're matched Charlie. You are my supposed person, the one, my soulmate, my intended... need I go on?"

Charlie felt guilt in the bottom of his stomach.

"I'm sorry, but Lydia-"

"I get it," Noah said, putting his cutlery down with a clatter and leaning forward, looking straight into Charlie's eyes, "I get it that you love her. I don't expect that to just change, for you to drop everything straight away. But I need to know, honestly, do you feel anything for me? Or is this all just some weird fluke to you?"

He thought about the way his body reacted when he heard or saw Noah, the way his mind would drift into thoughts of him if left idle too long, the hours wasted sitting outside his office just to catch a glimpse of him, the angry sex with Lydia for days after that awful phone call.

He breathed out heavily, "yesterday you left work at about 6pm, it was raining so you got out your blue umbrella before walking to the car. The day before you left a lot earlier, you were wearing your grey coat that you wore the first time we met, and you had your laptop like you were going to do some work at home, the two days before that you were there late, so late that you drew the curtains in your office and ordered take out. And I can tell you about the week before that too. I have been hanging around like some pathetic lost puppy just to catch a glimpse of you. What does that tell you about how I feel? Just because I find it hard to... admit these things, doesn't mean that I don't feel them. I can't stop thinking about you, it... it drives me crazy."