Unexpected Liaisons - 18. Beatings and Wine

All things considered, it did not take Bay long to find the group of guys who had acted in such a bigoted way towards his friend. Issac had told him not jeopardise his position, but Bay would let the matter rest, and he got from Zander exactly who these guys had been. Bay would not forget that Zupan had saved him, from himself and from destroying every chance of his relationship with Issac in the beginning. Because of Zupan and his own particular brand of assistance, Bay knew himself better, and was no longer plagued by the memories of his past. No one said things like that about Zupan and got away with just a tongue lashing.

Matthew Jacobs, Charlie Roward and Frank Tonne, the camp trio with the shrill laughs and stupid hair. Bay sat at the far end of the neon bar, nursing three fingers of Uncle Jack with ice and watched. They were not hard to spot, and Bay waited until they’d ordered their fancy drinks before he waved the head bartender over.

“Blacklist them.” He pushed over the slip from the South Alaska, with photos and details, rubber stamped by the association.

“Those three?” The barman, who was camp as anything, but smiled in a genuine sort of way at Bay, half recognising him from the times he came here with Issac and held up the bar all the time that he wasn’t being forced to dance, “Gladly.” His whistle was sharp, “Dill! Don’t serve them.”

“What?” Matthew, the kid with the violet hair looked appalled. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been blacklisted. The three of you. Get out.” The barman smirked and pushed another drink over towards Bay.

“You can’t do that!” The campest one shrieked.

“I think you’ll find,” Bay turned on his stool, leaning with one elbow against the bar, “That he can do whatever he likes.”

“And who the heck are you, bitch?”

Bay flexed his knuckles. Wearing black and drinking bourbon were not thing usually associated with queens. He stood, wishing he was taller.

“I just happen to be friends with the Olympic gold medallist that you called a freak.” He drained the rest of his drink and stepped forwards, “And you’ve been barred from every club and bar in this city that I could find.” He dropped his voice an octave, “Now get out.”

“Ooohh!” The third guy waggled his fingers and pretended to be scared, “The big bad barman’s going to kick us out.”

Bay hated being short, but he loved being fast, and now that he often had company on runs or at the gym, he was stronger too, filling out as he approached his nineteenth birthday. He took three steps forwards, fisted the front of the idiot’s shirt, and flung him into his friends. It wasn’t for nothing that Zander had been scared of him the first time they’d met, when Bay was less in control of his faculties, and he made short work of the three queers who had dared to hassle his friend. The staff didn’t stop him, and he didn’t injure them much, just a little bit ruffled around the edges, messed up hair and superficial bruises before he kicked them bodily into the street.

“Next time, think before you open your damn mouths.” Bay spat, “And be fucking grateful I didn’t tell other people, bigger, stronger, meaner people what you’d said, or all you three would be right now is a stain and too much fucking hairspray. Now git!”

Job done, Bay wandered back into the club and proceeded to wheedle the barman into teaching him how to make some of the frothy pink cocktails that Zander now seemed so fond of.

*

Zupan fidgeted with his napkin. It had been folded simply, but neatly, into a sort of boat shape, sat on the white porcelain plate to offset the sleek silver cutlery, but now it was a sort of twisted mess in his lap. This was definitely the fanciest date he’d ever been on, with anyone, and somehow Zander had managed to encourage him into smart black trousers, a white shirt and a suit jacket when he’d found out where Zu was planning to take him. He’d managed to avoid wearing a tie, but now he was wondering why on earth he’d decided to ask Issac for the table at all.

Of course, his boyfriend walked into The Fish and Antlers like he belonged there. Zander’s hair was short and sleek and super blond, and his figure was hugged in his fitted mint green shirt, and pale grey pinstriped suit. When he took his jacket off, Zupan was shocked to realise that for some hitherto unknown reason, he found waistcoats to be a total turn on. the cut made Zander’s narrow shoulders broader, his waist somehow thinner, and he still managed to make the whole thing totally girly and really manly all at once in some totally indescribable way. Wearing eyeliner and subtle but glittery lip gloss helped though.

“You OK babe?” Zander kissed him before he sat down, and Zupan’s fidgeting ceased, albeit momentarily.

“You look great.” Lust was a great cure for nerves, and as Zander slid into the seat opposite him and plucked his napkin off the table with slender fingers, Zupan could feel his lover checking him out even as he did the same.

“You wearing the boxer’s I left out for you?” Zupan set his teeth in his lip as he finished the question, and Zupan could never resist that. Over the last month Zander had gently begun to change his wardrobe, and for the most part, the changes were good and Zander didn’t chuck anything away, and what he bought was chosen not just for style. Zupan could still get naked in under a minute if he had to. The underwear was Zander’s little kink, and Zupan supposed everyone had one, and since Zander was made so happy by his compliance he smiled and tried on whatever the boy wanted.

“I wouldn’t call these boxers,” Zupan shuffled a little bit, the underwear was red, satin, and snug. Zupan had suspected that the briefs were a step down from the ones he’d found the search engine of his computer… those had lace on. “But yes, I got ‘em on.”

The smile that Zander flashed him was worth it.

“Gentlemen,” Micky arrived at their table with a single slim menu, which he handed to Zander, “Your wine.” The young maitre’D poured two glasses of clear yellow wine with one hand, then set the bottle on the table. He turned to Zupan, “Chef, I mean Issac, said not to worry about ordering. He has something special for you.” He smiled at Zander, “Nice hair. I’ll give you a couple of minutes OK?”

“I’m jealous,” Zander’s blue eyes flashed over the top of the menu, “You get special food…” He got distracted by the menu again, “God it all sounds so good… ‘medallions of pork loin in butter and cream…’ I have no idea what the stuff it’s served with is though, it’s all French. What’s a julienne?”

Zupan raised an eyebrow.

“Why on earth would I know that?”

“Good point… How’s the wine?”

Zupan lifted the glass carefully and sipped.

“It’s… wine.”

“Er…” Zander was looking at him in a confused sort of way, “And?”

“I’m not sure wine actually has a taste…”