A month later after 3 bottles of wine.....

Once Lawrence had finished mocking at me and my attempts to find the right kind of boy the rest of the evening went by in a blur. Deliberately steering clear of the topic of relationships, we chatted about pretty much everything else and just at after midnight with coffees consumed and second bottles of red wine finished off our evening together had come to an end. I refused Lawrence’s offer to go halves, paid the bill and said I'll walk him home.

‘Tell me something about you that would surprise me,’ he said. Taking me by the arm.’ And when I say surprise me I mean really surprise me. I am not interested in any revelations of the third-nipple variety or anything that involves you once having been a man.’

I thought for a moments. ‘OK,’ I said, ‘I’ve got something which you’ll find surprising but it’s not so much about me as about my friend.’

‘What about your friend?’

‘You know I told you that my good friend Peter has got a boyfriend called Darren? But Peter is in love with James.’

‘Really? Did he tell you this?’

‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘Me and Peter haven’t got that kind of relationship. We talk about general stuff... fun stuff, not anything serious like love. If Peter wanted to unburden his soul he’d probably be more likely to go to another friend of mine rather to me and given the circumstances that is never going to happen.’

‘So how do you know then?’

‘It’s weird, but I’ve just picked up on it over time. Changes in Peter’s face whenever James speaks to him, the way he hangs onto him every word, snatched glances whenever he thinks no one is looking.’

‘And Darren knew about this?’

‘Not as far as I am aware.’

‘And you’re pretty chuffed about that, aren’t you?’

‘Well, wouldn’t you be if everyone in your group had you pegged as a jack-the-lad with all the sensitivity of a house brick? I like being able to spot an acute case of unrequited love when I see one. It makes me feel human.’

‘And that’s your surprising thing? That you spotted your friend’s longing for someone he can’t have?’

‘You sound disappointed.’

‘No,’ replied Lawrence with a grin.

At Lawrence's front door, I accepted his invitation to come in for a drinks. His living room was pretty much everything I expected it to be: ordered, and the absolute opposite of my own. There were a few touches that I liked: a big pot, art poster above the sofa.

Opening up a bottle of wine in the kitchen, we continued chatting as though there really was going to be no end to the evening and then began a conversation about travel adventure holiday to Australia that Lawrence has thinking of going with a friends. This had led to a conversation about holidays and travelling in general, and places we would and wouldn’t like to go to one day.

I wasn’t quite sure how but no doubt all the wine we had consumed had helped make a connection, no matter how tenuous, we did got around to talking about relationships: especially Lawrence’s last one a year with a barrister called John.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this,’ I said as Lawrence concluded the tale of the demise of his relationship, ’but John the barrister sounds like a right idiot. How long were you with him again?’

Lawrence shook his head in disbelief. ‘One year.’

‘It took you a year to work out what a jerk he was?’

Lawrence took a sip of his wine. ‘It’s very kind of you to gloss over the facts, George, but thing ended not because he was a jerk but because he went off with someone else.’

‘But you would have worked out though, eh?’

Lawrence shrugged. ‘Who knows? At the time I thought he was the most wonderful man that I’d ever met but now – excuse the image –I wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.’

‘Believe me it was his loss, not yours.’

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘I am not sure,’ he sighed.

Lawrence shrugged. ‘Let look at the facts: I am forty eight and single. Even if I met someone I wanted to be with tomorrow I couldn’t begin thinking where to find the right guy! I have been on three dates, only one of which managed to get a second date before he was whisked off to Hong Kong by the company he worked for, then I think you’ll appreciate why I feel more than a little fed up about men. he flopped his head into his hands in mock shame.

I instinctively put my arms around him and held him as tightly as I could. After a while because the holding and squeezing thing didn’t seem to be doing the trick I started stroking his hair and whispering that he shouldn’t worry and that everything was going to be all right. I pulled him closer not as a means to take things further as might have happened in the past but rather to protect him. How weird was that? I had somehow become the kind of guy who protected boys like Lawrence from the affections of guys like me. It made so sense and complete sense all at the same time. This was what it felt like putting someone else’s need before your own. I was wishing that this moment would last forever when something weird happened: Lawrence reached up and gently guided my lips towards his own and then we kissed for two, possibly three seconds before I pulled away.

‘Look, Lawrence,’ I said quickly. ’You really don’t want to be doing this.’

‘And why not?’

‘Because you’ll regret it in the morning. I know it seems like a great idea now but wasn’t it you who said you wanted to be mates and nothing more?’

‘Yes.’

‘And haven’t I got the worst reputation of any man you’ve known?’

‘Possibly.’

‘So this,’ I gestured to the space between us, ‘right here right now is not a good idea.’

He nodded thoughtfully. ‘George.’

‘If I say something will you promise not to take offence?’

‘Of course, just fire away.’

‘Good, because the last thing I want is to offend you. So would you please just shut up and kiss me before you permanently ruin this moment for both us!’

Was this really a meeting of equals as he was indicating or a situation where one party was exploiting an emotionally charged situation for their own gain? I wonder. After a few moments of looking into Lawrence’s eyes, I had my answer: there was no exploitation to speak of but this certainly wasn’t a meeting of equals. The balance of power was all in the hands of the men opposite me on his sofa and I was powerless to refuse his demands….

Let me tell you the rest later....

Till then