Date: Sun, 18 Jul 2021 22:04:59 +0200
From: Ryan White <liciousryan@gmail.com>
Subject: The Waiter (Gay/Adult Friends>

HOLA PEEPS!!
Hope you enjoy this one. Had loads of fun writing it xx
liciousryan@gmail.com

Stay safe,
Ryan

THE WAITER

Pouring rain.

No literally.

It was FLOODING down.

I did all I could not to crash my car in this uncertain weather, so much so
that my mask, which was laying on the passenger seat, viciously slid down
to fuck knows where.

I should really stop and take a breather, I thought whilst trying my best,
to see where the hell I was going. Its just, parking in the middle of no
where, especially in a crime ridden country such as South Africa in the
middle of the early evening night, was not a chance I was willing to
take. According to my GPS, Mario's house wasn't much further from where I
was at the moment. If only I could actually GET CLOSE to that particular
suburb, maybe he could come and help me in getting to his home. Man...I
hated the rain.

I was really like a deer lost in a storm right then, as this was my first
ever time visiting South Africa. Last year, during the COVID lockdown
months, I joined Twitter for the first time. Being twenty-six years of age
and not infested in being in some sort of social media was bizarre, I know,
but I've never had the need to display myself and all my worldly photos for
anyone to see. After two months of not going anywhere and SEEING any one
apart from WhatsApp calls and videos, I created a Twitter account and
decided to give it a go.

What I didn't realise, was that I was gonna meet the guy of my dreams on
that app. Yes, I said guy. Nice to meet y'all, I'm Ryan, and I reign from
Michigan, United States. So basically, me and this guy got talking...man,
oh man, was he hot as fuck. It first started with him following me, which I
immediately did back, and then we started chatting. It got so intense in
time that some days we couldn't stop, I would lay awake in the middle of
the night, approximately two or three in the morning, when he had lunch at
work in his own time zone...but I didn't mind. I know it was probably not
the greatest move in the world, but I sent him a shirtless picture of
myself first. I was proud of my body and I didn't mind showing it off if
needed. Not the best six-pack in the world, but at least after all the gyms
had closed, I still had one hahaha.

He of course responded with a host of pictures of his own, complete with a
flurry of compliments and proceeded to send me ones of himself. Lord...I
didn't know men like him could exist...he was literally the most perfect
man I had ever seen. Blond hair, beautiful royal blue eyes, and a cheeky,
chappy smile, which was to die for. You just KNEW you would have a great
time with him in a night out.

The messages and DM's got more and more... until, on a whim, after a solid
six months of talking and divulging each other's secrets...I cringingly
ended the conversation by typing...I love you.

Granted, I was half a fucking sleep at the time...but the next morning,
once I fully had my bearings, I was shocked...stunned...and had the biggest
fucking smile on my face when I read...love you too...in his retuned
message. From that moment on, we began to really GO at it. We would flirt,
we would sext, we would have Twitter sex as much as was allowed. I didn't
know this guy from Adam, and neither did he, me, but there was an
UNDENIABLE connection between us. After about a year of us communicating, I
realised...every time I typed "I love you" to him...I actually meant it. I
could KICK myself for actually falling for a gut from across the fucking
ocean, all the way from South Africa. God knows, don't ask me how it
happened...but there it was.

I was actually edging him, once COVID restrictions was lessened, to come
over and visit me in the States. I had so many plans of what we would do,
where to take him...and of course to finally take my gorgeous man in my
arms and fuck his brains out, like he was the last man standing on thus
earth. He always said that he was scared on contracting this damn blasted
virus and of course so was I...but I had this UNDYING need to actually BE
with him. Ridiculous, I know. But we GOT each other. We understood each
other. I had dated loads of guys before COVID...and I had NEVER felt like
this for ANY of them. He had looks, he had personality, he had the
attitude...he loved me back.

After doing a little digging I decided to surprise him. I had all three of
my covid shots already, so in a sense, that made me feel better about
taking a trip. I told Mario, my beautiful guy from Twitter, that I would be
making the trip to Cape Town and if hr trusted me, to give me his address
so we could actually meet up. Insane. Yeah. I know. What can I sat...I'm
head over heels in love. He immediately gave me an address as well as GPS
co-ordinates for his home, and told me that he was SO existed and how he
couldn't wait for me to get there once and for all.

What I didn't realise, and neither did he apparently, was that I had to
QUARANTINE when I landed in Johannesburg before I had clearance to fly to
Cape Town. For two whole damn weeks. And REALLY digging into my finances at
the same time. Urgh...longest time of my life...but I got through it,
because even though I was alone in a foreign, yet beautiful country, I felt
like I had someone. Mario. The guy I was so in love with. If need be, he
would come and fetch me himself. I trusted him one hundred percent. I had
no reason not to.

I didn't tell him that I was on my way. I wanted to keep it as a
surprise. And that's why I didn't wanna bother him unless it was absolutely
necessary but I didn't bargain with the Cape Town weather. It was nice and
breezy just half an hour ago...all of a sudden the sheer heavens opened
above me and within seconds, my rented car was soaked. Literally from no
where and I certainly didn't see that coming. Oh well.

I saw a sign for what looked like a restaurant when I turned into the
suburb where Mario said he lived. Big neon letters which told me the
place's name was Spur, and that it was a steak ranch of some sorts. Maybe
we can come and enjoy a meal here later on tonight, I thought, my heart
racing, it was only about seven a clock and amazingly, it was dark out
already. That's the South African winter for you.

My GPS told me exactly where to go, and eventually, I stopped in front of a
huge town house in this, very much exclusive suburb. I was stunned, I
couldn't take my eyes off it... Man...Mario never told me he was loaded,
but by looks of things he must have been. How else can he afford a place
like this? I checked and double checked that I was at the right house, and
the GPS confirmed I was. This had to be it.

Deep breaths, Ryan...wow...you're here. You're actually here, you fucking
did it...I thought to myself...I couldn't stop giggling even if I had
tried. I was actually about to do this!

With shaking legs I opened the rented car door and with amazement, I saw
that the rain had stopped. Damn. Wouldn't have dreamed of that ten or so
minutes ago. Anyway, I took hold of my mask and put it on my face, hooking
the strings behind my ears. I knew I was covid negative but I wasn't sure
if he was. Nevertheless, good to be safe.

With bated breath, I rang the doorbell. God. After all these months, nearly
four months shy of two wonderful years chatting with Mario, I was finally
going to meet him face to face. I kept biting my lip as I heard movement
inside this giant mansion-like home in this clearly very exclusive
suburb. Please, let this go well. Please.

"Yes? What do you want?"

Okay...wow...erm...not expecting an old lady to open the door, but
anyway...

"Evening, Mam. Is Mario home by any chance?"

The old lady frowned and hesitated for a moment, backtracking a little and
keeping her hands firmly on the Trellidor security gate that separated us.

"Sorry, Sir. I think you have the wrong address. This is my home, and I
have lived here on my own for close to thirty years."

The door closed shut solemnly in my face.

Wha...hell no! Fuck this!

I rang the doorbell one more time, and after a few seconds, the lady opened
once more, although this time, she only opened a small latch where she
could see through, situated in the door itself.

"Young man, I am going to be calling the police. There is no one called
Mario here. Be gone!"

"But Mam, please understand, I came all the way from America, and this,
this house is where he said he lived!" I shouted in sheer distress, my
mouth like sandpaper, dry and suddenly bruised. What was going on? I took
out my phone and checked once more the address that Mario gave me...it
wasn't a mistake, he SHOULD BE HERE!

"Fine. Have it your way," the old lady said and closed the latch.

Fuck...she was gonna call the cops, sure as hell, I just knew
it. Man...defeated, I turned around quietly and walked back to the
car. Once inside, I angrily grabbed my phone once more and entered into
Twitter, and into Mario's previous DM's to me.

"Dude, I'm at your house right now and this old lady won't let me in. I
wanted to surprise you, that's why I didn't say shit. What's going on? Love
you."

About five or six minutes of not so patiently waiting...I wasn't really in
the mood to be counting...surpassed before I looked at my phone as it
beeped unexpectedly. There we go, a DM from Mario. Relieved as hell, I
opened the message.

"YOU'RE AT MY HOUSE NOW? YOU'RE ACTUALLY HERE? YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT?"

A nasty feeling of dread started to spread through my stomach and upper
chest. I clutched my phone inside my hand. I breathed in and out...no. I
wasn't cat phished. I couldn't have been. Mario...he had sent me photos and
everything. I knew the names of his parents, his dog, his kid brother...he
even sent me photos of all of them. We even video chatted on Skype once or
twice. This...No! I quickly typed a return message.

"Yeah man, I wanted to surprise you. 13 Dahlia Avenue, Constantia, Cape
Town, like you said."

I sent the reply and suddenly heard police sirens bellowing in the far off
distance. Sounds like they were getting closer and closer by the
second. Damn that old bitch! I literally just came back to sit in this damn
rented car, doing what she wanted, and she still goes and calls the cops on
me. Fucking hell. Where the hell was Mario? He can explain ALL of this!

No.

Oh shit.

It was like a knife...a KNIFE piercing my heart. I didn't wanna believe it,
but I was sane as anything, and there was no way my eyes was playing tricks
on me.

Mario had read my message...before I was BLOCKED by his Twitter account.

"Fuck...fuck...no..." I scattered to no one in particular, before trying to
see his account on my phone some how...I was blocked. Good and proper. All
of this, after I had told Mario, that I was at "his" house. As if that
wasn't upsetting enough, the police sirens were coming ever, ever so
closer...

"Gotta...gotta get outta here..." I mumbled before I turned the key into
the ignition and reversed the hell outta there.

I drove and drove and drove...to no where in particular...I just...I needed
to get away.

HOW...HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID? You hear of these things every damn
day but you NEVER think it's happening to you!

The neon sign of the steak house, the same one I had seen earlier, appeared
as I turned a corner. I knew I had to watch my finances, I only planned on
staying a week, and by looks of things, I'd have to pay for a hotel or a
damn guesthouse now, which I didn't budget for, I was supposed to stay with
Mario...urgh.

I turned into the parking lot in front of the steak house and got out of
the car. Oh glorious...it was RAINING again. Geez, does it piss here all
the time? I got out and trotted towards the entrance of the steakhouse
where I proceeded to TRY and dry myself off to not much luck. I sighed. I'd
give ANYTHING for a coffee and a hot meal right now. Fucking hell.

The doors were suddenly opened and I was welcomed in by a very friendly and
professional looking woman sporting a uniform of the restaurant's colours
and logo. She showed me to a table and I immediately refused, kindly
explaining to her I'd like to be alone if possible, and away from other
patrons. I just hoped she understood, I didn't wanna be difficult, but I
REALLY wasn't in the mood for anyone right now. She smiled and took me to a
decent sized table by the window, looking out to the parking lot. Apart
from my table there was another next to me, but that was it.

"We're not usually busy on Sunday nights. I'll make sure that space stays
empty," she smiled and placed a menu before me. I nodded and smiled a tad
before she was gone and I was on my own. Poor girl probably took pity,
because I knew I looked a mess.

Memories...scenes...messages and moments between myself and Mario flashed
throughout my mind. Jesus Christ. Things I told him in sheer confidence
came flooding back to me like a waterfall rising. Private things. Things I
never would have told anyone. Would I have jumped on a plane and flown all
the way to another continent if it wasn't for covid...probably not. After a
disaster of a year like 2020...I just wanted some normalcy. Think I took it
a tad too far.

"Evening, Sir. Are you ready to order?"

I hadn't even so much as glanced to towards the menu. I sighed and looked
up...

Holy...holy shit.

Beautiful. First word that came to mind. I blinked once...before realising
I was most probably freaking him the hell out.

"Erm...yeah, sorry...I was miles away..."

The waiter smiled as he heard my American accent. Those teeth were so damn
white I could swear his shit must be sparkling. Wow. Straight and more
perfect I hadn't seen in a long time. His smile was gorgeous. What the fuck
was a hot young dude like him doing as a waiter, I wondered. He could
easily be a model, if he chose to be.

"Don't worry, Sir. Happens to the best of us. I'm Dylan, and I'll be
serving you tonight."

I kinda winced at the "Sir" part, being only twenty-six and I was sure he
was at least twenty or twenty-one. Had to be.

"Thanks, I guess. By the way, we must be near the same age, so please stop
this Sir crap. I'm Ryan."

Dylan nodded, his mask gently dropping over his nose as he did so. He did a
quick enough job of coveting it up, however, and we both giggled at his
quick reaction.

"Gimme a coffee and a surf and turf, the steak well done, please. That's
about all I can stomach tonight. Oh, do you know if there are any hotels or
motels or even a guesthouse nearby?"

Dylan quickly punched in my order into the phone he had with him and sent
it to the kitchen, before he looked back at me.

"There is a guesthouse a couple of blocks from here. It's called De
Grendel. Its small, but cosy and it always has the best reviews. Me and my
boyfr...oh, sorry, erm, yeah, you can try it out, you won't be sorry. I'll
check on your coffee."

My eyes widened at what he had said. Forget the name of the guesthouse, I
couldn't even pronounce it, even mind remember it, but in that same
sentence, he totally covered up the fact that he had a
boyfriend. Geez. This beautiful dude is gay. What were the fucking odds.

The food was delicious. I didn't realise just how hungry I really was after
the flight to Cape Town from Johannesburg and then driving all the way to
where I thought Mario had lived. I double checked my Twitter account, still
miraculously hoping... praying... and still, it was as if he never
existed. Our messages was still there, but he had clearly blocked me, I
couldn't even see his profile anymore. I drank the last of my coffee and
sighed. Once more I wondered how exactly did I allow this to happen. All
the money I had spent on this spontaneous trip. How I took a three weeks of
leave that I couldn't really afford to. Did I even still have a job...urgh.

"Were closing soon, Sir...I mean, Ryan. But if you want a refill I can see
what I can do."

Bless you, you sexy fucker.

Is what I wanted to say.

"Dylan, thanks a lot, man. But no, the bill will be fine. And...if you
don't mind...as you can hear, I'm American, I didn't really get the name of
that guesthouse...?"

There was that smile again. My god. He could melt Lindt chocolate with
those perfect pearly whites. Don't you dare blush, Ryan. Whatever you
do. And for God's sake don't get a fucking boner...

"I can do that," came the voice with that typical South African accent I
had heard so much before on TV and in movies. He had a great body
underneath that uniform...you just KNEW it. I paid the bill and despite my
horror finances, I gave him a more than average tip. I watched out of the
corner of my mask how his entire face lit up as he saw how much I gave him,
and that, was worth more than every dollar that I had.

Outside, the rain had stopped, thank god for small mercies. The rented car
was still where I had parked it, and suddenly...everything was too much. I
stared at the car keys in my hand...and the tears suddenly just...flew down
my cheeks. Everything just CAME out and there was no stopping it. I sunk to
my knees and sat down on the wet gravel next to the car and sobbed like I
had never sobbed before. Cried my fucking eyes out. I had no idea how long
I was sitting there.

Mario...I came to this beautiful country for HIM. Not for a fucking surf
and turf and a room at some guesthouse I couldn't even say the name of. It
should have been magical...meeting the guy I had fallen head over heels for
on a fucking Twitter account...how stupid was I? Just listen to all
that...a blind person knew I was being cat phished. Everyone, except
myself.

"Ryan?"

That voice.

"Dylan...erm...geez, what are you doing here?"

Dylan smiled. Keeping his distance, as his mask was off and I could finally
fully see his features. Holy mother of god. He was perfection. In
every...EVERY fucking sense.

"I work here...kidding. My shift is finished and I thought I heard someone
crying. I also kinda thought something was wrong earlier but you being my
customer I didn't wanna pry. But hey, I'm not on duty now. You okay?
Anything I can help with?"

I sniffed and stood up. My legs threatened to buckle under me, but I kept
my composure. Wow...getting a good look at him under the street lights and
the natural moon light. His blond hair was...waving so gently in the slight
breeze, his smile and voice genuinely looked and sounded like he cared.

"Oh, Dylan. Dude. Where do I begin...came here...all the way from
Michigan...because I fell in love with a guy I met on Twitter. Long story
short...I got cat phished. The fucker probably even doesn't exist. So...I
have no where to go...and no one here. I have more than a shit load of
expenses now with the trip, all on credit card...and I guess I'll have to
fly home tomorrow if I can get a flight. No point staying here now, is
there?"

Dylan bit his lip, still keeping his acquired distance from me. I
sighed...better leave him alone. He doesn't wanna hear all my shit.

"I'll take you to the guesthouse. Least I can do. If you don't mind giving
me a lift, I'm also heading that way."

Serious? For real?

"Dylan, wow, okay, you do NOT need to babysit me..."

"Oh, did I forget to say...my mom owns De Grendel. The said
guesthouse...with the name you Americans can't pronounce..." Dylan said
tongue in cheek, a shit eating grin spreading across his sexy features.

His smile was infectious as fuck, despite tear stains still flooded across
my cheeks foe the world to see, I smiled back, and scratched my head.

"What are we waiting for? Go on, get in," I said as he smiled and waited
for me to get inside, before putting his mask back on, and getting in at
the back seat of the car. At first I wasn't gonna say anything...but I felt
like I had to out him at ease.

"Dylan, look, I'm covid negative, I was tested before the flight and I have
been in quarantine for fourteen days, you don't have to..." I protested but
he simply smiled.

"I haven't been. You can still have it and not show symptoms, you know all
that crap, right? Totally just protecting you. By the way...thanks for the
lift."

As I started the car, I saw him folding his arms, gently leaning his head
on the window, and slowly closing his eyes. Who even knew how tired he
really was. I watched him for a couple of minutes...and he was sound
asleep. I took out the name of the guesthouse and googled it, as well as
it's GPS coordinates. Typing it into the GPS itself, I knew I would be
there in no time. I'd take my chances...I was tired as hell. The day was
taking it's toll.

My eyes couldn't help flickering to the sleeping Dylan every now and again
as I drove. It felt as if my chest was contracted every time I did...he was
so damn beautiful.

Even his name did him justice.

Dylan.

The waiter.

I laughed.

Such a good name for a romantic gay story on somewhere like Nifty...I
thought, before driving off where the GPS directed me to.

**



THANKS FOR READING!!

Any feedback good or bad...LOL will be MASSIVELY welcomed xx

Even more...do YOU wanna read more?

Lemme know!

liciousryan@gmail.com