Bad Stereotypes - 30. Monday 5th August 2013

I had never been to the Fish and Antlers as a customer. And whilst I had seen parts of the evening service, I had never been there for lunch. Lunch was my downtime. Micky seated me with only a raised eyebrow and handed me a thin folded menu that felt expensive it my hands. I didn’t look.

“A glass of tap water and whatever chef has got handy.”

“Bay…” Micky’s voice was low, concerned, “You want me to tell him it’s you?”

Under the table I picked at the seams of my shorts. I was not dressed for this kind of dining. My hand drifted over the edges of the dressing over my leg and I nodded.

“Yeah. Tell him.”

Micky gave me an almost heart breaking look of concern, then vanished into the kitchen. I closed my eyes, but I heard nothing through the double swing doors. I couldn’t tell if that was bad or not. I’d dreamt of him again, and more than anything, I wanted to see him. I was certain that I needed him, certain in a way I’d never known that I needed him. The young maitre’D returned a few long moments later with a very thin smile. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not.

“Chef wants to speak to you about your order.” He said curtly. As I got up, I heard mutterings from other customers who were dressed appropriately, and weren’t sporting wound-dressings and bruises on their legs.

The kitchen was just as I remembered, the bustle and clink of things cooking, the shouts of orders called out from the pass. I expected Issac to be there, but Hamish stood grinning at hot plate and smiled at me as I entered.

“In the chill-store Bay.” He turned back to the pass, “Jesus, Barny, what sort of mess do you call that? Take it back and do the plating again.” Barny shot me an acidic look as I passed him.

Issac was sitting on a wooden crate of navel oranges in his chef whites, staring at his hands. He’d heard me enter, because he’d flinched as the door latched shut behind us. I breathed into the cool air and stared at the man who had been my boyfriend. He looked tired, run down, but not actually different. His hair was messier, his eyes darker.

“I’m sorry.”

Issac looked at me. I felt like I was being examined, and the temptation to turn around and give him a three hundred and sixty degree view was overwhelming. I resisted. He looked me up and down, and I saw his eyes widen when he got to my wrapped shin. Finally he met my gaze.

“You’d better be.”

I stepped forwards and found myself engulfed in Issac’s strong arms. I took a deep breath, but the scent of him, the mix of soap and cotton and man that was so uniquely Issac made me break down sooner than I had steeled myself for, and I knew that I would do anything to stay in his arms forever. Something similar must have happened to him, because after six heart beats we were holding each other up, supported only by Issac’s prosthetic leg and the smallness of the space where we had first kissed. Issac arms gripped around my shoulder and when his fingers dug into the dressing over my shoulder blade I winced and groaned.

“Bay?”

“Zu took me to go and see Sergi.” I whispered the words, our faces inches apart. All I wanted to do was kiss him. “I got another one on my leg too.”

Issac took my jaw in his hands and looked right at me, and I had the feeling he was looking right inside my head.

“Show me.”

I stepped back the smallest amount and pulled my shirt off by the hem over my head. I picked at the edges of the dressings, and Issac’s hand went right to help me as I turned to give him the better view of my right shoulder.

“Wow… Bay,” Issac’s fingers tickled over the sensitive areas of my tattoo, his other hand warm and soft on the curve of my waist. I could feel him breathing on my neck. I shivered. “You have my flowers. Rose go with you?”

“Yes.” Issac’s fingers traced the outline of one of the indigo dark flowers, geometric and spiky, shaded to within an inch of its life. The tattoo was perfect, a mix of light and shade. The whole of my left shoulder was taken up by a bio-organic spiral with almost dragon-like prongs which echoed the shape of the bone underneath, all shaded up in greys and the darkest blues and deep greens. Shining through the gaps and holes in the bony swirl was a fractal light source that looked like maths if it became floral and was made of fire. Shades of orange and yellow spilled out over my skin, as though I had the sun inside me. Appearing from behind the swirl were Issac’s flowers, the dark razor edges shapes echoing the spiral and patterning lower as though falling from their branch until they reached most of the way down to the small of my back.

“It’s beautiful.” Issac’s fingers smoothed the dressing back over my tattoo and I found myself shivering under his hands. It was cold in the chiller, but I wanted so desperately to lean back into him. Issac’s lips moved in my hair and I dissolved against him, his arms coming around mine, wrapping my torso against his back, “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry Issac.”

“Show me the other tattoo,” I found myself half sitting in Issac’s lap as he rested back on the wooden orange crate., his arms around my chest, one hand splayed flat on my abdomen. His breath tickled my ear, made my skin crawl in the best way and shortcut straight to my crotch. He sounded like he had in the dream, slightly tired, his voice low and wanting. I curled up my left leg, put the foot on the edge of the crate and peeled back the bandage, wincing when I pulled on my sparse, light leg hairs. Issac’s hand gripped around my leg as he read the words Sergi had tattoo from ankle to knee.

I can’t run away forever

“Bay?”

“Issac I have to tell you…”

“Shhh,” Issac’s lips on my neck, in the hollow behind my ear as his fingers moved over the tattoo, “I get it, it’s OK.”

“No. I need to tell you. I fucked up and I’m sorry but I need you to know why.”

“Alright.” Issac kissed the back of my neck, his arms gripping me tight, “Not here OK?” I stood as Issac shifted his weight underneath me, “Give me ten minutes to get the guys sorted and I’ll take you home.”

I waited nervously for Issac in the restaurant, standing by the door and picking at the seams of my shorts. Micky asked me if I wanted anything, but I just shook my head and smiled at him, to wound up too speak until Issac appeared. He was still in his chef whites, wallet and keys in one hand.

“Come on.” Issac and I walked side by side along the narrow lanes. At first I thought we were heading for the South Alaska, but Issac grabbed my hand and we veered off along a little side streets that opened out into a small private courtyard. Four houses faces into the little square with the fountain and there were a couple of guys out on plastic chairs drinking beers in the early afternoon sun. Issac nodded to their greetings and unlocked a red door in the cream washed wall.

I’d never been in Issac’s house, and I barely noticed anything other than him as we walked through the big kitchen, up one wide flight of stairs and came to an open plan area which was obviously Issac’s bedroom, though it was complete with sofa, chairs and coffee table.

“Issac…”

“I didn’t mean it Bay,” his words were hurried, as though he was trying to get them out before I said anything else, “I need you in my life. I missed you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You wanted to tell me why?”

I sat on the sofa, and I told him everything. I told him about Zach, how I’d lusted after my best friend for years, then made him hate me because I couldn’t deal with having someone I was in lust with who was friendly and supportive. I told him how all of that had come back to bite me when I’d come out, how Zach had twisted up the truth and convinced everyone I was pretending. I told him about Alex, how he’d changed, the awful things I’d said to him. I told him about the year of shagging any guy who came by, the fact that I’d never had a real date before him. I told him about Jim-Boy, who I’d idolised and hated. I told him about the running, the dreams, the terror behind the club that had kept me up for weeks.

And then I’d told him what I’d said to Zupan, about Zander and Billy at the South Alaska, about the run with Zu that had changed everything.

And then I told him I loved him, and he kissed me.

That was the best damn kiss that I’d ever had. Issac sat beside me on the sofa, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me half into his lap as we kissed. I was panting when we parted, and I rested me forehead against Issac’s, breathing way too fast. My hands were in his lap, and I wanted so much to pull him to me and feel his wonderful body against my own.

“I’m sorry too.” Issac ran his thumb over my lower lip, “I should never have shouted at you like that. I just… I lost my temper.”

“Babe…”

“Hush now.” Issac kissed me again, his hand on my jaw, strong, opening me up for him as his hands deftly slipped under my shirt, ticking at my skin, my ribs, brushing across my nipples. I hissed and bit my lip as I pulled back, found my way into Issac’s chef whites and was delighted to find that I’d been right all along, and that he wore nothing under that jacket. Issac practically purred against me, his lips in my hair.

Moment later I was divested of most of my clothes, and Issac was pretty naked too, and I was straddling his lap on the sofa, kissing him until I felt dizzy. His fingers played on my torso and my back, avoiding the area where I was still sensitive and bandaged, and as we ground against each other I grabbed his hand and placed in firmly on my butt.

“Bay?”

“You’re friends tell me that I shouldn’t be ashamed of what I want.” I spoke quickly, scared a little that I would change my mind, “Want you.”

Issac kissed me before he answered.

“I think that might be a little bit much straight away babe,” His hands pushed down the waistband of my boxers and began to knead my arse as my erection leapt to attention, “How about we just go slow ‘kay?”

“Mmm hmmm…” I was distracted by the knot at the waistband of Issac’s trousers, and by the shivers along my spine as he spoke in my ear, his lips brushing on my neck, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Bay…” I was making him blush as I squirmed in his lap, inviting his fingers to come and play while I tickled my way up the hardness between us. I kissed him, ground against him, and decided that this might just be my new favourite position.

“Take me to bed?” I asked in my sweetest voice.

“You’re gonna be the death of me pretty boy.”

“Nah,” I kissed my way from ear to collar bone and smiled against his skin, “Now that would ruin all the fun.”