helllooooooooo. dis one. "i haven’t thought of you since we broke up in college, but we just matched on a dating site and huh i guess that spark is still there"
i wanted to write something cute and flirty but instead its kinda ehhh but i hope you like it anyway! lol from this prompt list
Tinder was weird. Like, not as vain ashumpR, still full of guys who just wanted random hookups, but therewas definitely more options for a relationship to start. Althoughwhen you could just swipe left or right based on one photo, vanitywas still a thing.
Oliver would always check out a man’sbio, never judging on looks alone, because he wasn’t looking for aone-time thing (though a lot of the men he matched with wanted that).He’d been on a few dates, most going really well, friendly, but nevera spark really. And if there was a burning interest on Oliver’s endto take it further, it never happened. Oliver blamed his poor socialskills for that one, wondering if he came off too needy or nervous.
As a man nearing his thirties, Oliverchastised himself enough for sinking so low as to use a “dating”app, but it is what it is. And he’d feel embarrassed about it later.
One particular Friday night foundOliver in his apartment, drinking alone and absentmindedly browsingTinder while Netflix played in the background. Being a little tipsywhile he chatted with strangers was always a little easier, likebeing at a bar, without the awkward fidgeting and giggles he stillhadn’t grown out of.
Swipe, swipe, swipe, take a sip of hisrum and coke, swipe… then a familiar face made Oliver pause, therim of the glass pressed against his bottom lip. On his screen was adevastatingly handsome man, lips pulled up in a half smile, haircombed back, scruff well-maintained, wearing a suit jacket sharpenough to cut. He was posed on a sidewalk, as if someone just stoppedhim on the street and asked for his picture. Oliver swallowed,looking below the picture to confirm his obvious recognition:
Connor, 27.
Oliver rolled his glass along his lips,staring in contemplation before clicking on the picture, readingConnor’s short bio.
I’m not big on talking. Send mesomething nice.
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head.Guess his playboy ex hadn’t changed in the past five years. He swipedthrough the pictures Connor had, recognizing one with Michaela at abar, a selfie of him sweaty and rugged in the woods, hiking, and onemore with him lounging against a brick wall, looking like a modelstraight out of a men’s magazine.
They hadn’t spoken since Oliver brokeup with him, after Connor admitted he had cheated on him. It had beenrough, humiliating, and broke something in Oliver that took a longtime to mend. Curiosity and drunken logic found Oliver swiping right,his heart leaping into his throat after he realized what he’d done.
But then immediately after, the screendimmed, and a message flashed up: “It’s a match!”
Oliver’s breath hitched. Connor hadfound him too, and apparently also swiped right.
Now what? Oliver waited, watching hisphone in gross anticipation. He set it down, trying to focus onwhatever show was on his TV, taking another sip of his drink.
His eyes shifted down to his phone,wondering if Connor would message him first, or at all. Maybe he alsodrunkenly swiped right. Oliver couldn’t even know when it happened…he hadn’t had Tinder for long, maybe a month or so, Connor might nothave found him tonight… not on a Friday.
Most likely Connor was at a bar,chatting up a nice looking stranger to go home with… then walk outbefore the other guy even thought of going to sleep.
A notification flashed on Oliver’sphone, he had received a message on Tinder.
Downing the rest of his drink, Oliveropened the app and attempted to calm his erratic heart as he openedConnor’s message.
Fancy meeting you here
Oliver laughed to himself.
I could say the same thing. Thoughtdating sites weren’t your thing
Immediately after:
Tinder is a socially recognizedhookup app, c'mon Oliver, you know this.
Is that why you’re here?
A long pause. Oliver pulled his legs upand brought a throw pillow into his lap.
Kinda, humpr gets boring
Oliver stared at the words, tapping hisfinger on the phone.
Are you dating?
Another pause. Oliver wondered whatConnor was doing, where he was.
I’m trying
Oliver rested his chin on his knees,watching the screen. It had been so long since he’d spoken to Connor,this should be awkward; they ended on such bad terms but… allOliver could feel was familiarity and warmth. So Connor was trying todate, did that mean he wanted a relationship now? Was he trying to beserious, monogamous?
I miss having a boyfriend… for howmuch I whined and deflected on it, it was good with you
Oliver pulled his lips in, guardinghimself. Connor sent another soon after.
Really good.
Sighing, Oliver shut his eyes, tuckinghis head lower so his forehead rubbed against his knees. Connordidn’t get to do this. Giving Oliver and amazing 3-year friendshipand then the best 6 months of his life as “lovers” beforesleeping with some other dude, admitting it a month after ithappened, and then offering nothing but radio silence and now this.This… unconventional meet-up with Connor basically admitting hemissed Oliver.
Stop that, Oliver sent, sighingloudly.
Sorry
Oliver rubbed his hand down his face,abandoning his phone for the time being and taking his glass to thekitchen for a refill.
When he came back, Connor had sent himanother message.
What are you up to?
Trying to play it casual.
You mean right now?
Sure.
Oliver looked around, shouldersslumping.
Home alone, drinking and Netflix.
So same ‘ol same 'ol, huh?
Oliver couldn’t help but grin at that.
Well you know what they say, allwork and no play…
That was the rum talking. Oliver stillfelt the need to be careful, but the alcohol brought out his oldfondness for the easy, flirty banter Connor and him used to exchange.
Have you been seeing anyone?Connor sent after a few minutes. Oliver wondered if he’d resistedresponding to that in a dirty way.
Eh, a few here and there, nothingserious.
Silence.
You?
More silence. Oliver reminded himselfto ask Connor what he was doing right now.
Same. Nothing substantial, justscrewing around like usual
Oliver could practically hear thesarcasm dripping off that reply.
That’s what you’re best at.
Oliver flinched at his own words. It’sbeen years, he really should back off. But before he could apologizeor amend that, Connor responded.
… are you drunk?
Oliver quirked an eyebrow. I said Iwas drinking.
Yeah but, you’re always so much moresassy when you’re actually drunk.
Oliver huffed, but he was smiling.
A long silence followed after that.Oliver knew it was his turn to talk, but he didn’t know what else tosay. Well, he had a lot to say, a lot he wanted to ask. He wanted toknow how Connor was, did he get his dream job, was he still friendswith that doucheface who crashed on their couch that one time…
Mostly he wondered if Connor thoughtabout him as much as Oliver did. A part of Oliver always hated thathe never gave Connor the chance to explain himself further, that hejust pushed Connor out and never responded to his texts and calls.And how quickly Connor moved on, seemingly angry and forgetting aboutOliver.
Oliver always questioned if they wouldhave ever worked out… they were both irrational and impulsive, itworked as a crazy friendship, but it was dangerously unhealthy as arelationship. They never talked about their problems and had a lot ofangry sex… it was intense and amazing. Connor had been the best sexOliver ever had, hands down. Their sexual chemistry was always insynch and on fire… it made talking not seem that important.
But they had both been young, reckless.Oliver had been Connor’s first boyfriend and he had admitted duringtheir short relationship that he wasn’t sure if he was “doing thisright,” but he always tried, for Oliver… and it seemed sweet atthe time.
Was it though? Had Connor grown andmatured at all from the experience? The fact that he never triedspeaking with Oliver didn’t help much… though Oliver couldn’t blamehim, since it was himself that acted so dramatic about Connor’sregretful confession.
Oliver was just thinking about bed whenhis phone alerted him to a message from Tinder.
Why did you swipe me?
Oliver was very drunk now. He shouldprobably wait til morning to respond to anything further, but afamiliar ache in his chest resurfaced as he clutched his phone tight.
Why did you? He countered.
Just hopeful, I guess. You?
Curious… I guess. And drunk.
I’m drinking too. Wouldn’t have theguts to message you otherwise.
Oliver smiled, touching the phone tohis forehead. When he brought it back, Connor had sent anothermessage.
I know it’s been forever, and i’mnot asking you to forgive me, but I really am sorry about what I did.I’ll never get over how much I hurt you…
Oliver sank back into the couch,clutching the throw pillow tightly to his chest. He waited forsomething more, Connor defending himself or rambling about whathappened, but nothing followed.
He swallowed, tapping out his responseslowly.
I forgive you
Thanks
And then:
You’re still too good for me
Oliver sighed.
Well I don’t know about that… it’sbeen a while, why don’t we catch up?
Instantly: I’d love to.
Oliver bit his lip, his heart wasthumping again.
Busy tomorrow morning?
Nope.
Let’s have breakfast.
A short pause.
Sounds amazing.
Oliver grinned. He’d be nervous aboutthis tomorrow, but right now, drunk off rum and high off oldmemories, good and bad, he couldn’t wait to see Connor.
