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    Aditus
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

Prickly Prompts - 2. #761 The Ex

You’ve been busy with work and finally, have a night off. Deciding you don’t want to spend it in front of the television you go out. Barely out of your car you turn and knock someone off their feet. As you go to help them up you find yourself face to face with your ex. What happened next?

 

 

“Ian?” I let go of Tony’s hand immediately and watched him fall back on his ass.

“Hey!” Knowing him, he’d find lots of people to help him up. I can’t suppress the snort while I’m heading towards the club’s entrance. Inside I go straight to the bar. Luckily, Sam’s behind it.

“Beer?”

“Whiskey, neat.”

Frowning, she tilts her head to the right. “What happened?”

“Tony.” She immediately scans the room. “I ran into him in the parking lot.”

“Fuck! I can ask Brian to throw his cheating ass out as soon as he shows.”

“Naw, free country and all.”

“Generous. I’d do it, though.” She eyes me critically, then a salacious grin appears on her face. “You’re on the hunt! Finally!” She glanced around. “I can see at least three prospects.”

“Yeah, only working and watching television is getting old.”

“Beefcake on your six.”

“Blech!”

“Twink interceptor just cleared the situation.”

I shake my head at her. “What’s up with you tonight? Next, you’ll slam the shotgun you don’t have on the bar and yell ‘Out ye’ fuckers’?”

“I’m thinking about selling.”

“Ah, that time of the year.”

She flips me the finger. “Fuck off!” Then she purrs, ”Tall, dark, and handsome on the prowl. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

I quickly take a swig of my whiskey.

“Can I get you another one?”

The guy’s deep voice held the barest hint of an accent I couldn’t place. I put the glass down, turned to him ready to politely decline, only the words got stuck in my throat. Short dark hair, taller than me, which was a rare feat: nice. But my gaze was drawn to the mocking grin twisting his full lips. Without thinking, I answered, “Um...yeah.”

Sam snorted at my eloquent words. Then she asked him, “What can I get you?”

“Do you have any German beer?”

“Only Pilsener.”

He scrunched his face. “Gimme anything you have on tap then.”

“So, you’re from Germany?”

He immediately grinned. “Nope. It’s my pick–up order.”

“Your pick-up order?” Then I got it. I held out my hand. “The name is Ian. Nice to meet you Günther.” For a short moment he stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, then a laugh burst out of him.

“Enough of getting to know each other, don’t you think? Let’s dance!”

I drained my glass. “Sure,” I said and followed him on to the dance floor. Seeing the others eye-fucking him, while we’re making our way through sweaty, gyrating bodies, I knew I chose well. Sliding my hands around his waist, I pulled him against my chest. Feeling him pushing his bulge against mine, I knew dancing with Günther would be no chore. Looping my arms around his neck, I felt a brief vibration in my left pants pocket. “Fucking Tony.”

“What? Who’s Tony?”

“My ex.” I leaned into him, nipped at his ear, and whispered, “So, I live close by, five minutes by cab max. Shall we?”

Günther laughs. “No beating around the bush, huh?”

“Too forward? It’s why I came here tonight.”

Without further ado, he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the entrance. A short wave to a broad grinning Sam, giving me the thumbs up, and we stand outside on the street. I look around for a cab, when my phone rings. I look on the screen and smile apologetically at Günther. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

“The band is about to play.”

“Shit!” I pull at Günther’s sleeve, when he stops a cab. “I totally forgot I’d promised to meet some people at a bar. One of our friends’ band has a gig tonight. Can we go there for a few minutes?”

Günther isn’t happy. “Sure.” We jump into the car he was able to snatch.

“To the Poetic Piano please.” The drive isn’t long.

“That’s a funny name.”

“The owners couldn’t decide what to focus on with the name. They’re doing poetry readings-slash poetry slams too.”

I open the door of the bar, and who’s chatting amicably with the bartender? Fucking Tony! I look around for my friends and find them sitting at a small table right off the stage. After the first break, I ask Günther, “Do you mind getting out of here?” Tony is long gone, but I’ve lost any interest in listening to music. We say good-bye to my friends. Outside, Günther leans against my side. Nuzzling my throat he mumbles, “Fucking now?”

I can’t restrain my giggle at his bluntness. “After I had a bite to eat. The sight of my ex for a second time this evening has my stomach eating itself. Food calms me.” I look at his falling face. Rubbing my body against his, I suck his earlobe into my mouth. “Please....”

“Fine!”

“I know a diner close by that serves a mean veggie burger.”

Günther gapes incredulously at me. “Are you fucking serious? Veggie burger?”

“Calm down, they have juicy and bloody burgers too.” Fucking carnivores.

Günther opens the door to the diner...

“Fucking Tony!” I storm towards the man sitting at one of the tables.

“Your date just left.”

 

I brace my hands against the railing of the balcony and watch the city’s twinkling lights. On my right side, a glass with red wine appears seemingly out of nowhere. “Happy anniversary, baby.” I leaned into his warm body. “To you, too.”

“Do you ever regret forgiving me?”

“Never.” We clink glasses. “Till next year, when we do it again.”

Thank you for reading and to Wayne for the nudge.
:thankyou: @Valkyrie
Copyright © 2019 aditus; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Chapter Comments

 
 
1
1 hour ago, Headstall said:

It ended up kind of sweet... I liked that. I'm thinking each year they play this game as a reminder to Tony of his cheating. :)  Clever, short, and as I already said... sweet. Well done, Adi. Cheers... Gary....

they play this game as a reminder to Tony of his cheating Exactly, and of Ian's forgiveness.  Thank you for reading this and for your comment, Gary.

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7 minutes ago, Timothy M. said:

Aahh,, I wondered if this was the case. But did they also met like this the first time after they broke up?

Also, the name Günther had me :rofl:  because in Danmark 'en ordentlig Günther' ia a very large

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NOSE - get your minds out of the gutter, people. :lol: 

Very good take on the prompt, Aditus.

My mind was exactly there...in the gutter, haha.  I just thought I'd use a name with  an umlaut for @droughtquake,

Thank you for your comment and making me grin, Tim.

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2 hours ago, aditus said:

 I just thought I'd use a name with  an umlaut for @droughtquake,

:lol: 

10 minutes ago, droughtquake said:

I don’t know why an umlaut reminds you of me. There’s no umlaut in droughtquake! drøüghtquåké?

I can't resist: https://satwcomic.com/nothing-is-perfect  :rofl: 
PS the comments to this SATW comic are hilarious too. Especially the one about how to pronounce the name of the Icelandic national park Þingvellir.

Edited by Timothy M.
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25 minutes ago, Timothy M. said:

:lol: 

I can't resist: https://satwcomic.com/nothing-is-perfect  :rofl: 
PS the comments to this SATW comic are hilarious too. Especially the one about how to pronounce the name of the Icelandic national park Þingvellir.

It’s enough to drive a font designer crazy!

You can tell when the font designer is from the US when a new font doesn’t contain the €. You can tell when the font designer speaks only English when there is no ç, é, è, ñ, ß, ü, ô, or any of the Scandinavian and Eastern European variants. Things used to be much more complex, but these days modern computers can handle multiple languages more easily than most users.

I can remember shocking an Israeli-American by clicking a couple boxes in menus and having my old 2001 iBook suddenly switch to Hebrew, complete with Right-to-Left text in the menus. In the ‘90s, support for Hebrew on a Mac came in the form of an extra cost Hebrew Language Kit. Now days, I can click a few boxes and switch to Icelandic, Faroese, Japanese, Arabic, Gujarati or numerous others in an instant (not all applications can accommodate all languages). Too bad I only understand English!
;–)

12 hours ago, droughtquake said:

Poor Günther. Every year there’s a guy treated like a prop in a play. Are there guys clueless enough to stick around longer? How long have they been playing this game? What happens if a previous year’s ‘Günther’ spots them playing their game again with one of his friends as the newest victim?
;–)

They need to frequent another club/city? 

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