Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Bad Stereotypes - 32. Monday 2nd September 2013
I awoke for a slightly weird dream where I had been playing murderball with Zupan, into the nestled warmth of my boyfriend’s arms. I opened one eye to see the clock on the wall, and decided that it was much too early to get up on our day off together. I snuggled back into the nook formed by Issac’s shoulder and his arm which lay along my tattoo and snuck my arm over his gently rising and falling ribs. My knees tucked into the space where his leg wasn’t, and with a soft sleepy groan his face turned to find the top of my head. I hummed in response and felt Issac Daneil slip back into a deeper sleep.
I thought about our summer. Things had gotten back to normal pretty quickly. Except that now normal meant spending at least half out time at Issac’s flat, going out to other clubs on a regular basis, meeting up for drinks and things with Issac’s friends, his running buddies, with Zupan and Zoltan and the rest of the murderball squad. A normality in which I still ran nearly every day, but I was often joined by my boyfriend or Zupan, sometimes both, and I stuck to sensible distances. In this normality I put up with my boyfriend playing Pink on the stereo as long as he put up with Nickelback from me. I still wasn’t so sure about the music from Glee. A summer of reading together in the park, lying on the beach, playing Frisbee with each other and the staff from the Fish and Antlers. A summer of long slow kisses, fast frantic snogs and excellent sex.
The first day after we’d woken up together Issac had sat me down with the internet and the phrase ‘educate yourself.’ Stupidly I thought I’d had nothing to learn, I knew about sex, I had been on the giving end of things more times, and with more people, than I cared to actually count, but I had been wrong. I was good at sex, knew what the prostate was, but the wealth of information about first times and preparation was a bit overwhelming. I’d always pretty much just dived on in with the addition of lube. Now I wondered if that first time had been painful for Issac.
We went slow, and I spent a lot of time forcing myself not to run away from the feelings that I loved, and hated that I loved. After I could deal with my boyfriend kneading my arse, playing and tickling near my entrance, the idea of wanting Issac to fuck me wasn’t quite so scary. And then he taught me about rimming: I’d never learnt so much so quickly.
Out of bed, Dale started having me take more responsibility at the South Alaska, and I started doing less really late shifts, more ordering and more business stuff. I spent a whole day wrestling with the books and after that I was so wound up that I could not have been more grateful to Issac for his excellent pliability in bed. But learnt the accounts, remembered how to force spread sheets to do useful things and generally started to get to grips properly with the idea of being bar manager. Now I opened one eye to look back at the shape of my boyfriend. Issac’s fingers danced over the flowers and spikes on my back and I knew that he was awake.
“Morning babe,” I trailed my hand down Issac’s chest and abdomen towards the bulge his crotch was making in the pushed back sheets, “Sleep well?”
“Mmmm…” Issac sighed into my neck as I wrapped my hand around his length, “Waking up with you is awesome.”
I began kissing my way down his side, licking and nipping over ribs, then abdomen, across his hip.
“Bay…”
“I can think of other ways to wake you up…”
“Ungh Bay!”
I loved to have my boyfriend writhing and moaning in the morning.
Later on Issac got up and started making noises in the kitchen which smelt like one of his all-too-common and absolutely-fucking-delicious breakfast extravaganzas. I had assumed that someone who cooked for a living would be especially keen on doing it on his day off, and while we had lazy takeaway’s every now and then, mostly Issac really did love to cook. Yawning and naked I rolled over in bed and watched my boyfriend’s butt as he moved around the kitchen in nothing but red boxer shorts. I no longer thought of him as being unbalanced, and the column of steel and wire and springs was just an extension of the man I loved.
I’d been with him to another physiotherapy check-up and it had been nice to see how normal everyone treated him at the centre. That had been the same day that we’d gone to murderball practice and Zupan had challenged me to a race down the court. I think we were both surprised when I won by two lengths, and for the first time I hugged Zupan, which surprised everybody. Sometimes I stared at my feet and wondered what it would be like to lose one, and found myself fonder of my left leg now that it was decorated with my very own mantra.
From my upside down position Issac moved back into my field of vision, carrying a little copper saucepan and a whisk.
“Beurre blanc?” I rolled upright and out of bed, “We’re having fish?”
“Yeah,” Issac put an arm out for me as I came around the island, and I stuck to his side, a hand around his waist, “Is that OK?”
“You know I’ll eat anything.” I smiled to show that I didn’t mean it in a bad way, “Thank you Issac. I don’t think we have any fish though, you want me to run down to the market?”
Issac peeled away from me to look in the fridge.
“Oh bugger.”
I slapped his arse as I passed.
“Well only if you want sweetie.”
“Fucker…”
“Yes.” I scooped up my trainers and started pulling at the laces, “I’ll go. What do you want?”
“Babe…” Issac waited until I was looking directly at him, “You might wanna wear clothes before you run unless you’re planning on being arrested.”
As much as I loved running with Issac or Zupan, sometimes it was still nice to run alone, and even though it wasn’t far to the market and back, I made sure to make the most of the run, lengthen my stride and draw out every breath to force my lungs work at their highest capacity. I counted things in my head: paces, steps, lampposts, girls in not enough clothes, guys with stupid sunglasses, and thought about the summer. It was September, and already you could feel the last of the good weather days drawing in, shops everywhere were full of signs saying ‘back to school’ and this Monday, the first in a long time, there were no school kids about, they were all back in uniform and lesson learning. My former friends would be prepping for university, back from their summers of sex and travelling, to study and be serious again. And I was in the city by the sea with my amazing boyfriend and a job I loved. So why did I feel weird about that?
I wanted to be happy, settled, contented: but I’d come for the summer, and the summer was over. And I couldn’t bear the idea of going home for so many reasons. I didn’t want to be reminded of behaviour that made me anything other proud, and I couldn’t stand the idea of moving back in with my parents and having to be accountable all the time. There was no way I could be away from Issac. I loved him. I had friends now down here, people who liked me, who I hung out with, ran with, drank and joked with. Zupan and Zoltan, Rose, Thorn, Billy and Zander. I liked the people I worked with, we had a fun time at the bar, and though Dale was making no noises about my leaving, I felt shaky and sort of untenable.
I voiced my concerns to Issac over our lazy breakfast, and though he told me not to worry, he also told me that I should go and talk to Dale about it. We spent the rest of the late morning sitting in the little courtyard in the still warm sun. I read my way partly through another of Issac’s romantic paperbacks, of which he seemed to have an inexhaustible supply, and while I was enjoying the bourgeoning relationship between Jared and Matt, Issac scribbled out the new menu ideas for the autumn at the Fish and Antlers.
Early afternoon the sun went behind the clouds, and we went into the flat. I made the bed while Issac got changed and put on his hi-tech leg, and glanced at the sketchy new menu. Issac liked to draw his dishes, funny little squiggles that made up the shape of ingredients along with long florid descriptions of the dishes. I was examining the desserts when something caught my eye.
Roasted lamb and garlic casserole served with a julienne of candy striped beetroots and golden carrots accompanied by romanesco florets.
“You like the menu?” Issac put his hand over the back of my neck, warm and smooth and dry.
“I’m on it.”
“Yeah, the guys all really like that dish. We’ve refined it some since I last cooked it for you, its fine dining now babe.” I shivered as his hand came around my waist, the other sneaking down the furrow of my spice to my butt, “We have time right?”
“You’re insatiable.”
“I’m dating an eighteen year old,” Issac’s voice in my ear sent tingles shooting down my spine as I began to melt under his hands, “I gotta keep up.”
The South Alaska was closed and quiet when we eventually got back, but the alarms weren’t on and Issac and I found Dale sitting in his office going through the three drawer filing cabinet and pulling out old paperwork that was no longer needed.
“Hey D.”
“Morning kiddo. You just come down? I didn’t hear you.” Dale waved at me with one hand while sifting through a file he was holding open with his teeth. My Godfather was not a well organised man.
“Stayed at Issac’s,” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, because I’d left Issac in the bar, “Need to talk to you.”
“Sure bud. I got something for you too.” Dale put down the file and gave me a half hug, “You wanna go first?”
“No, you start.” I prayed that Dale wasn’t going to start off with the sentence:
“Your parents called me,” Damn and shit, “They miss you and wish you’d call more often. We had a little chat about your future.”
“D! Don’t make me go back there!” I fisted my hand in the front of my shirt, “I can’t leave.”
“Whoa kiddo!” Dale put a big arm around me shoulders, “No one is making you go anywhere. I explained to your Dad that you were happy here and that you had a boyfriend. He sounded pleased, your mother squealed in my ear. I think I might have tinnitus now.” Dale steered me out towards the bar, “I’m going to you what I said to them. I want you to stay here, you and the South Alaska are a good fit. I’ve been looking into property rentals, and being a landlord, but if I do that the bar is going to need a proper manager who isn’t me.” Dale smiled and rubbed my shoulder, “Don’t look so scared, you’re allowed to say no.”
I moved from Dale’s side, around the bar to where Issac was perch on a stool and fiddling with a beer mat, flipping and catching it one handed. I snuck am arm around his waist.
“Why in hell would I say no?” I grinned hugely, “I’d love to D, but I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”
“Ah well,” my Godfather took some forms from under the counter and pushed them across the dark wood at me, “These should sorta help with that.”
I stared. The last time someone and have given me forms for education that I hadn’t asked for I’d freaked out and moved across the country. Deep breath.
“City college do a one year course in hospitality and bar management, term doesn’t start for another couple of weeks are there’s a space on the course if you want it. I went and had a chat with the head lecturer, they’re keen to take someone who already has experience and a job lined up, makes their numbers look good.” Dale peered at me to gauge my reaction, I smiled at him, “It’s only part time. You’d be there Tuesdays through to Thursdays and I’d like you to tend bar on Thursday and Sunday and do the club Saturday and Fridays. How does that sound?”
I twisted to look up at Issac, who was grinning from ear to ear like only a particularly pleased man can.
“You wanna put up with me for the next, oh I dunno, forever?”
“Forever is longer than a summer Bay…” Issac kissed my temple, fingers coming around my waist, “Like I was ever going to let you leave.”
“I still get Mondays off right?”
“Yup.” Dale was beaming too, my Godfather looking proud as punch as I gathered up the forms. I glanced through the many pages.
“I’m going to need a fresh pen.”
I sat outside my bar, premier hangout and drinking spot for the alternative goths and metal heads of the city, with my boyfriend, sharing a cider, and filling in the forms to send me to further education (even if it was only for a little while), along with a dozen others to register my permanent move to the city by the sea. Issac was kissing my neck, distracting me with ticklish fingers and gropes that made my crotch sit up and pay attention while I was trying to write. The sun was low over the sea, and it was still just about warm, but the summer was ending, the air was chill and by this time tomorrow I was going to need a hoodie to sit outside like this. I had decided to stay here, with the man I loved, forever. I ran my hand down the tattoo on my leg and smiled to myself. If I ran any further from here, I’d end up in the sea.
Forever was going to be longer than a summer, but it had been a damn good summer.
***
Bad Stereotypes will be appearing as part of a three story anthology "Hot Like Summer" which will be available as paperback book and epub from Lulu.com very soon.
Randomness and Kitt have offered their skills as editor and beta reader, and for this we are eternally grateful.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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