TW: Homophobic slurs

A few weeks have passed since the incident with the stranger. Matthew, though not forgetting him, pushed the encounter to the farthest crevice of his mind. He heavily focused on his studies. That’s why he was here in the first place, not to play savior for some college student. Despite the attempts of trying to rationalize the stranger out of his mind, Mat still found himself worried on that man’s behalf. To boot, he misplaced the letter from the psych book as well. Guilt crept in his veins over that one. Though, if it did belong to whats-his-face at the library, he would feel less bad about it.

He was sitting at his desk, squeezing his temples desperately trying to concentrate on his Statistic homework. It wasn’t difficult for the man, but he had been staring at this computer screen for hours. He had just finished a paper for his other class and now he had to answer logical math questions. It wasn’t due until Friday and it was only Tuesday, so he decided to take a break. 

Another annoyance was the fact he had placed another textbook on hold at the library. Matthew was dreading that encounter. He fiddled with his lip ring using his tongue, debating whether or not to pick it up. For those who are wondering, he needed this book half way through the semester. The professor decided that she would be using material from it despite her saying it wouldn’t be necessary to have it at the start. 

Groaning, he rose up from his desk chair and proceeded to put a pair of jeans on. He didn’t bother to tuck in his t-shirt or even put on a belt. He was giving off a true college look - not giving a fuck! He slipped his slides on and lazily headed out the door. 

I can’t keep putting it off or they’ll put back the textbook. 

It was around 3 in the afternoon and the campus was packed. Mat purposefully left at a busy time to help cover any possible altercation with that library homophobe. George? He questioned inside his head trying to recall the trash person’s name. If it was busy in the courtyard then surely it was packed inside the place of interest. 

Sure enough, it was busy as hell. There was a mega line for the coffee shop inside among students who were chatting in small groups. Others were at the front desk, swarming like flies.

Mat squinted his eyes as he slowly approached the desk, looking for George. Luckily for both parties, he saw a black haired man there instead of the homophobe. He didn’t recognize the guy attending to a student in front of Mat. Maybe it’s the guy that called out the other week. 

Fleeting words were exchanged and the student that was ahead of the line walked off. It was now Mat’s turn. The dread he felt at his apartment dissipated as soon as he knew he would be encountering a new face. Which was sort of ironic since he disliked meeting new people in any other circumstance. 

Their eyes locked and Mat was surprised to see the student had two different eye colors. One was a light brown and the other was blue. Heterochromia? Cool as hell! He didn’t mean to stare into the stranger’s eyes. The other male, who had freshly trimmed black hair, terrifyingly gazed into Mat’s.  

Not this again. He grumbled under his breath. Why can’t I have a nice attendant? Every time I come here I’m either ignored, stared at, or called a faggot. I need to stop coming here. He had slit for eyes now, not bothering to reverse his scowl. 

“Dambe, I’m here to pick up a textbook.” He deadpanned, making sure to not look at him.

Usually they’d quietly grab it and practically toss it at him, but nothing of the sort happened. After about 30 seconds, he glanced back at the stranger, who’s name tag read Ywain, to find him frozen in place.

This was unusual. 

Matthew cleared his throat, allowing his facial expression to relax into something less tense. 

“You okay kid?” Mat always found himself in these situations it seemed. 

Ywain closed his eyes suddenly and took a deep breath. While exhaling he reopened them. “One moment please.” He stepped up and walked over to the reserved section. The raven haired boy quietly came back with the textbook in question. 

Gently placing it down, he asked for Mat’s ID to scan. Not once did the man look him in the eyes. He stared at the computer screen while gripping the hand scanner. His fingers were tightly wrapped around it as if that was the only thing keeping Ywain from snapping. 

Mat padded his pockets, completely spacing about bothering to grab his wallet. They’re in my other pants. Fuck. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he mumbled. “Sorry I forgot my ID. I’ll be back with it.” 

“Wait!” Ywain interjected his departure, quite loudly too. He quickly covered his mouth, feeling embarrassed at the sudden outburst. “I-I can look it up with your date of birth and full name.” 

Mat was a bit puzzled because - no one had ever offered that option before. Was that even allowed?

“Um sure. December 23, 1991. Full name is Matthew Dambe.” 

He could hear the clicking of his keyboard and an obviously nervous attendant. “You look much younger,” he mumbled under his breath, still avoiding eye contact.

He was a bit surprised because he never got that before. It must be my laid-back look today. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Thanks.” 

Ywain peered over at his face, observing his reaction. Just when he thought the younger male was going to say something, he just slid the book on the counter closer to him. Downcasted, he said that Mat was all set. 

Mat looked at his eyes once more before he ripped them away from view. He wasn’t usually one to say much of anything but he didn’t seem like a bad guy. A bit awkward and socially inept, but not a horrible person. He was good at reading the room and this guy seemed to be uncomfortable with Mat. Whatever the reason may be, he just shrugged off. 

“Thanks for the accommodation, I’ll make sure to have my ID on me next time.” The boy didn't look up at him and just nodded.

The older man slowly began to walk away and headed towards the book sections. He thought to maybe pick up something to read for fun. 

He was pondering in front of a bookcase of fantasy novels. This one looks good. He was skimming the back of it debating whether to check it out or not. Wait I don’t have my ID and I don’t think that guy wants to see me again. 

A jolt of shivers struck him when someone unexpectedly tapped his shoulder. He snapped his head towards the source, grimacing at the person. 

“Hey Georgy.” He nonchalantly greeted. When they were both standing, Mat was taller by a few inches. 

“Don’t call me that. Only my friends can say that.” 

He grumbled. “You told me to call you that though.”

“But I’m not getting called that by a faggot. That’s just creepy.” He crossed his arms in his chest, almost glaring. 

Mat sighed, already exhausted from this conversation. “Alright homophobe, what do you want with me?” He ripped his gaze away and refocused on the book in his hands. 

He scoffed, “what did you do to Ywain? He told me to take the counter right after you were there.” 

He knitted his brows together. “What do you mean? All I did was check out my textbook.” He waved it in his other hand to verify. 

“I don’t believe you.” He hissed, stepping closer into Mat’s personal bubble. 

He rolled his eyes and stepped even closer to George, leaving less than an inch between their fces. He never retaliated to such measures but this guy really pissed him off. Leaving a sour taste in his mouth. 

“Jealous are we? Don’t worry honey, I’m all yours.” He winked, smirking the whole time. 

George just about lost it, turning redder than a beet. He quickly jumped back in the aisle of books. He covered his face, trying to conceal his embarrassment. 

“Just kidding.” Mat said in a sing-song voice. “Fuck off George. I didn't do anything and I don’t even know your friend there. Why don’t you ask him yourself instead of harassing another student?”  

Calming down, he said, “I can’t ask him. He doesn’t tell me anything anymore.” He rushed past Mat, practically shoving him. 

He just watched as the homophobe stomped away, still pink in the face. 

I shouldn’t have done that, but holy shit I’m too old to be dealing with blatant homophobia especially when unprovoked. In general really. He sighed again, putting the book back to come get it another time.