People have a lot to say about love. That you'll 'always find the one for you when you least expect it', that you'll 'just know'. I can't say I've ever believed in that.

At least, until now.

The day had started like any other, honestly. I work in construction, specifically the manual labour parts, as obvious as that sounds. Very rarely do I get to operate machinery, but I've spent years working out and honing by body so on that day, like any other, I hauled around bricks and cement bags, amongst other things, from one location to the next with a couple of others. My co-workers aren't slackers, and neither am I, so we got that done pretty quickly and had some time to relax. We were working on constructing a wall for the town hall and, out of the 3 of us, we were roughly halfway done after a couple of days. There was always some downtime where we had to wait for the cement between the bricks to dry.

I was sitting on a part of the finished brick wall when it happened. As we sat around, I watched as someone came walking down the road towards our construction tools which were, unfortunately, piled in the middle of the road. He was a lean-built raccoon fellow dressed in middle-class clothes, from what I could see; a fancy shirt, jacket and jeans covered his lithe frame, but he wasn't even paying attention to the path in front of him, let alone my stare. When he came close to the tools I had to speak up to stop him from tripping over them, and when he raised his head to look at me and thank me, I froze. He had the most beautiful eyes, a shimmering combination of purple and teal that had me briefly stunned. It seemed like the feeling was mutual, too, for I noticed him taking me in at the time. I would argue that I'm an objectively attractive, lean built canine, though I feel like it's narcissistic to say. He thanked me for pointing out the obstacle in his path and, somehow, we got to talking.

His name was Simon, though I didn't know much more about him than that, for he mostly asked me about my work. I talked a little about the construction job we were working on, and he asked me a little more about the work I do and other things. I didn't want to get into too much detail with him, so I only really gave him the cliff notes of my childhood-- that being that I left school at 16 and went straight into an internship, whilst working with my dad in construction. I'm pretty sure he started flirting at that point, because he started to compliment my body, especially my muscles. Honestly, Simon was pretty cute, so I was pretty receptive...normally, I wouldn't have even considered it. Hell, I wasn't even sure if I was into guys...I hadn't really dated much before. Before I knew it, he gave me his number.

I started to see him regularly, and it was around that time that I started to understand what people said about 'just knowing' what it was like. I enjoyed spending time with him, and I disliked being away from him. I started to think about him a lot more than I would any other person, more than even my parents, and over the course of a couple of months, we started hanging out together at least a couple of times a week. We occasionally went on dates, but neither of us could seem to pluck up the courage to genuinely ask the other to date...it was hard for me to tell if Simon was even interested, and in turn he didn't ask me, maybe because he didn't want to overstep. Our anxiety about asking one another out didn't matter much on the physical side-- after a couple of dates, being intimate seemed natural to the pair of us. I suppose it would have been better to call us fuck buddies at the time.

Things with my parents were getting awkward after a while. They were asking after my 'new boyfriend', who I wasn't even dating, but they didn't seem to approve. I didn't want to confront them about it, but I could tell by their tone that they didn't like the idea of me dating a man...perhaps they hoped I'd have a girlfriend or even a wife by that point. I was in my mid 20's, after all. I tried my best to keep things civil and didn't speak about Simon much, but at it turned out I didn't need to have to confront them in the end; they did it for me. They demanded to know what my relationship with him was, then told me they didn't want 'no gay' in their home. I moved out that evening and crashed with a friend. I spoke to Simon a couple of days later about it and he offered to let me stay with him for a while. I tried not to bring up the reason for being kicked out, but there was no avoiding it once I moved in...and that's how the conversation unfolded.

I'm now sitting here, on Simon's couch in his little studio apartment, as he absorbs the entirety of what my parents argued with me about. I've just finished explaining it all to him and he seems to be lost in thought. Despite my nerves about the situation, I feel...a little relaxed. I can't stop myself staring at him.

"So...they kicked out you because they thought you were gay, and they're homophobic," Simon hummed, reaching up to rub the back of his head as he leans back, pressing his back to the couch. "...Are you?"

"I..." The question is confusing to me, but not for the reasons he thinks. "I think so. I mean, I find you attractive...we've had sex quite a few times."

My observation makes him grin and I can't help but feel sheepish, despite being the arguably masculine one of the pair of us. I'm not going to deny that I don't think he's hot-- in fact, he's more than that to me. He's an irreplaceable part of my life. Perhaps now is the best time to say something about that.

"Simon," I begin awkwardly, glancing to the side. "I know this is pretty sudden and all and maybe not the best time, but...I like you. I like having sex with you. Do you think...we could, uh..."

"You want to date?" Simon asks with a sly smile and I can't stop myself from grinning, nor does it fade. "I've wanted to ask you for a while, but I was a little scared you might say no...this is kind of new for me too."

"Well...since we're both on the same page, then let's just...do it?" I suggest with a sheepish smile, and Simon leans in towards me. 

He cups my face with his hands and presses his lips to mine, and I feel it, in the deepest pits of my stomach: that tiny, trembling spark.