Thread by @PetrychorDreams

{My first 🌌🐕}

It was a warm Spring day in Amsterdam.

Adam was in the first week of his trip to Europe. That in itself was something he had to keep reminding himself. Him! Adam! Travelling, going on holiday, after all those years of not leaving the city he grew up in.

But it had been almost like moving to California flipped a switch inside him. The world was his oyster, and he was hungry.

The plan was to spend a day or two in Amsterdam before moving on. Check out the science museum, Space Expo, maybe one of the more

'adult'-themed exhibitions if he worked up the courage.

But all of his plans had flown out of the window the night he met Nigel.

Adam had been sat on a bench looking at his map, enjoying the cool evening breeze whilst he checked out what changes he'd need to make on the Metro

the next day.

He'd overhead a conversation going on between four men seated round a table at a pavement cafe. A conversation that became heated - some might have called it an argument...

He couldn't understand what they were saying, he didn't even recognise the language.

One of the men stood out.

Maybe it was the striking flash of grey in his fair hair, hinting that he was perhaps older than his face suggested.

Perhaps it was the grin that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes.

His whole demeanor was menacing, really.

Adam was hooked.

He didn't realise he'd been staring until the man caught his eye.

And winked at him.

"Oh no-" Adam mumbled as he hastily lifted his map and buried his face in it. He felt his face turn scarlet.

The loud conversation carried on, and Adam tried to brush off his embarrassment.

A few minutes later, the sound of chair legs screeching across the pavement was followed by a shout of: "You fucking cunts don't know anything about me. I might be a bastard, but I'm not a 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭 fucking bastard."

Adam sneaked a peek over the top of the map just in time to

see the man down the rest of his bottle of beer and slam it on the table. He looked down again before he could be caught spying a second time.

He heard sounds that suggested the other three men had left the table, arguing amongst themselves.

He'd been sat on the bench

staring at the transit map for a good ten minutes at least. He was quite content there, so he folded it away and opened his backpack for his book.

"Hello, gorgeous."

The voice came from just over his left shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise, dropping his bag and book

on the floor.

"Oh!", he exclaimed, flustered, and immediately dropped to his knees to gather his belongings.

The other man watched, leaning on the back of the bench with both hands.

"Well fuck me, it usually takes a bit longer than that for a guy to get on his knees for me."

The man's voice sounded serious, but when Adam looked up he felt that the expression didn't match.

"Was that a joke? It didn't sound like a joke but your face might be amused. I'm not sure." Adam raised an eyebrow, indicating that it hadn't been a rhetorical question.

The

expression changed again then, a puzzled smirk, before the man shook his head and came around to the other side of the bench, reaching out his hand to help Adam up.

"Never mind that. I'm Nigel. Who the fuck are you?"

Adam didn't know what to make of the way the man spoke,

at all. His tone was playful, but the language?

Still on bended knee, Adam grasped Nigel's hand and gave it a firm shake. "Hello Nigel. I'm Adam. Are you angry?" He released the hand again and, after stashing his book back in his bag, he stood up.

Nigel looked down at his

own hand, still extended.

He shook his head slightly again before raking his fingers through his hair, pushing back strands of gold and silver.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Adam. No, I'm not angry. Not with you, at least." He looked over at the table he'd occupied previously

before looking back to Adam. "Why the hell would I be angry with you?"

Adam sat on the bench again, fiddling with the zips and compartments in his backpack to make sure everything was where it should be - and to avoid Nigel's piercing eyes.

"Usually when people swear at me,

it means they're angry. Not always though. It's hard to tell sometimes. So I think it's good to ask. Don't you?" He looked up then, the two men properly looking at each other for the first time.

There was a beat of silence before Nigel blinked, then said: "Please accept my

apologies, Adam. I wasn't swearing 𝘢𝘵 you. It's just the fucked up way I talk. I was raised by wolves or some shit like that. My first word was probably 'fuck'. I don't know any better. Can I sit with you?" He gestured towards the space next to Adam.

Trying to

unpick the truth from the idioms and hyperbole was occupying Adam's mind, so he simply nodded his consent.

Nigel sat, arms spread along the back of the bench, ankle resting on the opposite knee. They shared a moment of comfortable silence whilst they took a good long look

at one another.

Adam noted that the hints of silver were in the other man's stubble as well as hair. Hazel eyes were surrounded by crow's feet, which together with other grooves in Nigel's face added a rugged, lived-in look rather than ageing the man beyond his years.

He was broad,the sunkissed skin on his forearms covering substantial muscle - which was plainly the case for the rest of his body too. He wore simple black trousers, brown brogues, and a pale blue short sleeve shirt that had...

"Are they dogs on your shirt?" Adam enquired,

leaning in to make out the pattern in oranges and blues.

Leaning in and oh 𝘨𝘰𝘥, he smelled good.

Nigel looked down at his shirt to find that, actually, yes they were dogs. "Fucking hell Adam, I've had this shirt for years and I never properly looked at it. I thought they

were foxes."

Adam's face lit up, Nigel's amusement contagious.

That fucking smile, though.

That smile was the sexiest thing Nigel had seen since he arrived in Amsterdam 6 months before, and it was fair to say he'd encountered a lot of tits and ass since then.

That smile

transformed Adam's pale skin, fluffy brown hair, lithe build and all-round conventional (if young) good looks into something that could melt Nigel's glacieresque heart.

The two men sat, not speaking. It wasn't awkward - it should have been.

They sat, each observing the other,

wondering why the air around them felt charged. Like a storm was coming, but only to the isolated spot where they were.

The fingers Nigel's hand behind Adam on the bench quietly tiptoed to his shoulder, then brushed ever so softly on the skin just behind his ear.

Adam's

cheeks flushed as he tilted his head closer to the touch.

Adam was clearly on the verge of saying something. A confession of love? A lewd proposition? Nigel mentally urged him on.

"Can I tell you about space, Nigel?"

"Darling, you can tell me about anything."

He meant it. |

If anyone doesn't want to be tagged in #SpaceDogs (or wants to be added) lmk!

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