Storm In a Teacup

by Fabian Black

  “Won’t he have gone by now? It doesn’t take long to put up a sold sign?”

  “He’ll be in the Endeavour Tavern at the top of the bank at dinner time. I've seen his work van in the car park a few times.” She winked a heavily made-up eye. “I’ll just happen to pop in on my way home."

  She stood up. "I'll go finish up in the kitchen. I've got the dishwasher to unload and the floor to do and then I'll be off, unless there's owt else you need to me to do?”

  David shook his head. "You go and have fun, Lucy. Enjoy yourself." He smiled as she set a jaunty pace back towards the house, glad that someone was getting something nice from the day. She was what the locals called a gradely lass, despite her purple spiked hair and panda eye makeup.

  Picking up the round of shortbread he took a bite. It was delicious but he wasn't in the mood to enjoy it with the reverence it deserved. He crumbled it on the ground around the bench, a buttery treat for the birds.

  Picking up the book again he tried to divert his thoughts with the words on the page, but his mind refused to absorb them, not that they were the type of words you wanted to absorb for any length of time. It was Kleenex fiction, classic jerk off stuff, a collection of gay short stories with a throbbing cock in every sentence, a blowjob in every paragraph and at least four frantic sweat soaked fucks a chapter. They were fun, spicy little condom stories, something to be used once and thrown away. Publishers loved them and revered their writers because they sold in droves and brought in the cash. A competent writer of sex stories was worth as much as a Pulitzer Prize winner to some publishing houses.

  He put the book down and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. It really was incredibly hot. Bees hummed in the jasmine and roses adorning the wall behind him, no doubt some of them were Henry’s bees busily gathering nectar and pollen.

  His thoughts turned to the story Jeff had related about the wedding caterers deciding Stanes was a perfect place to open a new restaurant. How much of it was true and how much of it was hearsay? Lucy’s revelation about the chapel being sold had afforded him some dismay, seeming to lend credence to the story.

  Reopening his eyes, he leaned forward, inspecting a small cut on his shin. It had come about when Lin struck the vase of larkspur from the table, smashing it and causing it to spit out fragments every bit as spiteful as his temper. The chapel being sold didn’t mean there would be a new restaurant. It might well turn out to be a carpet shop or a convenience store. Lin was getting in a tizzy before it was necessary, as he always did.

  Poor Linsy. He wasn’t having a good day. David glanced up at their bedroom window. Change unsettled him. It made him feel threatened and anxious. However, it didn’t give him the right to make everybody else’s life a misery or to swipe vases off tables.

  He got up walking briskly down to the icehouse, suddenly unsure as to whether he’d closed it up properly after taking Lin in there earlier. He relocked the door, depositing the key in the kitchen as he passed, prior to returning to his neglected cup of tea. It was still as hot as he'd left it. The summer air was as effective as a tea cosy.

  He'd no sooner settled down on the bench seat than Henry Medup opened the door in the shared wall, his mouth open in a toothless grin.

  “Want to see my new hive? I finally got that dizzy Queen and her half-baked workers out of my kitchen. Please our Elsie I suppose, but I think I prefer their buzzing to hers.”

  “Now, Henry, be fair. They don’t look after you half as well as she does, and yes I’d love to see the new hive.” David got up and walked through into Henry's garden. “How did they end up in your kitchen anyway?”

  “Late swarm.” Henry led the way to the hives, limping along in ancient leather Jesus sandals held together with green garden twine. “When a new Queen hatches she flies off to found a new colony, taking half of the hive workers with her. This young lady seems a bit dim. She flew in through my window and refused to fly back out.

  "And where the Queen goes the subjects must follow or it's off with their heads?"

  "Aye, summat like that." Henry gave a wheezy laugh. "That know all Sam Tiggs, him I was telling you about over at the honey club, reckons I might as well destroy her and her entourage, cos it’s too late for them to establish enough food supplies to over winter. Well.” Henry’s cloudy blue eyes brightened at the prospect of getting one over on a rival. “I’ll show him. Special this Queen is. I can feel it in my bones. She might not be too good at timing or directions, but she’s special all right. Been whispering to me already she has.”

  They reached the hives and Henry handed David gloves and a protective head veil.

  “I read somewhere that bees can’t actually hear, so it’s no good talking to them.” David, safely attired, watched fascinated and faintly repelled as Henry lifted out a frame of crawling bees, cooing over them. The old man looked so appalled he felt moved to issue a hasty apology. “Sorry, Henry, no offence, just something I read.”

  “It's not me you need to apologise to. It's the bees. Don’t believe everything you read, young fella. The folks who write those kinds of things are ignorant to nature's mysteries. Bees are clever. They hear what they want to hear and speak what they want to speak to them that listen.”

  David for no reason he could think of found himself making a courteous apology to the humming insects for having repeated such heresy.

  “The bees accept and thank you for your apology.” Henry happily replaced the frame in the hive.

  They were heading away from the hive area, back towards the door in the wall with a few stray insects buzzing around their heads, when Henry suddenly stopped. His face paled beneath its leathery tan and his eyes widened becoming even more opaque. “The bees have got a warning." He clutched hard at David's arm. "They see something, something waiting in the cliffs. Great danger.”

  "Henry!" David gave a cry of fright as the old man crumpled to the ground. He dropped down beside him, probing his neck with his fingers, feeling for a pulse.

  Storm In A Teacup

  Seven

  After showering Lin lay naked and miserable on top of the bed, his body already beginning to perspire again in the tyrannical heat. He turned on his side. He knew it wasn't fair or reasonable to be angry with the Crooks family. It wasn't their fault the caterers they had hired for the wedding had decided Stanes was the perfect location for a new restaurant. He was angry though and anger demanded a resting place, in this case on the shoulders of the Crooks family.

  He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirling. What kind of restaurant would it be? How many seats would it have, what sort of menu would it offer, would it have a wine list, how many staff would it employ? What calibre of chefs would be brought in? He experienced a sudden intense longing for the days when he'd been at the hub of a busy kitchen, in charge. He missed the heat, the noise and the adrenalin rush of service.

  Lin's chest tightened, nausea replacing longing. He got up, walking over to the window. He couldn't compete against a fully staffed and licensed establishment. A bigger fish would take over his pond and he'd get left behind again.

  Opening the blinds he looked out into the garden. David was nowhere to be seen. He'd probably come back into the house seeking shade.

  Picking up a book Lin curled on the bed and made pretence of reading, hoping David would come up soon so he could convince him he was over his unpleasant mood and perhaps persuade him to change his mind about closing The Venus.

  His eyes strayed to the clock. Where the hell was David? The morning was moving on. If he was to stand any chance of the bistro being ready to open he needed to be making preparations soon. Good preps were essential in a busy kitchen, everything to hand ready for the serious business of cooking to begin.

  Dropping the book on the bed he went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cool water. He then re-dressed, choosing clothes he knew David particularly liked to see him in, a pair of close fitting cycle shorts and matching top.

  He reac
hed the top of the stairs just as David was walking along the hall towards the front door carrying the menu board. Lin slowly advanced down the stairs, his heart hammering as he watched David open the door and hook up the board. "What does it say?"

  David turned at the sound of Lin's voice. "It says no service this evening." He closed the door.

  “You really meant it then?”

  "Why the hell would I say it if I didn’t mean it!" David’s temper fell victim to a combination of suffocating heat, a stressful morning and his fright when Henry had collapsed. “Have I EVER teased you with such a thing?”

  Lin injected a note of pleading into his voice, “but I’m fine now. I’ve calmed down.”

  David shook his head “Get it into your skull, Lin. The Venus is closed this evening. Look on it as a favour. Cooking in this heat would be unbearable.”

  “I've known some bastards in my time, David Jordan, but you take the fucking cup!” Lin raced back up the stairs and into the bedroom, slamming the door hard behind him.

  Resisting an urge to run after him and tan his arse, David strode instead into the kitchen, indulging in some mild door slamming of his own. His t-shirt clung to his body, a triangle of sweat reaching across his shoulders, trickling to a point at the base of his spine.

  Crossing to the sink he turned the cold tap on, cupping his hands under it, splashing his face and neck. Filling a jug with the tepid water he added copious amounts of ice from the fridge, setting it aside to chill down.

  From the window he spied Elsie pegging out washing in the garden next door. He'd called her after Henry's collapse. It turned out the silly man had forgotten to take his blood pressure tablets. David had located them and got him to swallow one along with a good tumbler of water. He then telephoned Elsie who came straight over. He had left her roundly scolding her brother for his foolishness.

  Peeling off his sweat soaked t-shirt David pushed it into the washing machine. Opening the chiller cabinet door he stood blissfully in the cool air it belched out. He'd be glad when the heat broke. His stomach growled a request for food and closing the chiller door he turned his attentions to fulfilling it.

  Shelling some of the prawns Lin had cooked earlier he tossed them in a little lemon mayo and sandwiched them with salad leaves between slices of wholemeal bread. Putting them on a tray along with a couple of glasses of iced water he carried them upstairs.

  Lin was standing by the window, the sun blazing through the glass, bathing him in a nimbus of opulent light. He had a hand up to his face stroking the stubbled beard on his chin between thumb and forefinger. It was a sign David knew well, indicating fretfulness.

  “I've made lunch, prawn salad sandwiches,” he set the glasses of water and plate of sandwiches on the bedside cabinet.

  "Bully for you. You'll be boiling eggs next." Lin didn’t bother to turn around.

  Arranging the pillows on the bed David sat against them. “Come on, baby," he spoke gently, "sit with me, eat something.”

  "I'm not hungry. I had a good breakfast. Unlike you I don't feel the need to eat to the rhythm of the clock."

  "Fair enough." David picked up a sandwich and bit into it. As he ate he studied Lin's form, admiring the sexy shorts he was wearing. The Lycra material moulded his trim body, emphasising his toned thighs and his sweet little bum, he really did have the most adorable bottom. He put the remains of his sandwich back on the plate so he could adjust the crotch of his own shorts to accommodate the swelling suddenly occurring there. An appetite for sex replaced his appetite for food. “Come here, Lin." He patted the mattress. "No more sulks. What's done is done. Come and have a cuddle.”

  "I don't want a cuddle, not from you. You've ruined my day." Lin kept his eyes fixed on the view through the glass, even though the blinding light was making them ache.

  David took a long drink of iced water hoping it would cool his ardour, but it didn't. The flame of desire burned hotter. Getting up he crossed to the window. "Your hair needs a trim or at least thinning out." He used a forefinger to push gold strands away from Lin's eyes.

  “Don’t.” Lin jerked his head away from the caress.

  Undeterred David stroked his hair again. "You’re upset and I’m sorry.”

  "Sorry enough to change your mind about The Venus opening tonight?"

  "My decision stands." David moved his right hand from Lin's hair, sliding it down the silken ridge of his spine to rest on his buttocks. He brought his left hand round to join it. Brushing his lips against Lin’s ear, he murmured, “let's look at the positive aspect. We’ve got the day all for ourselves. Let me make you feel better. I want you.”

  “I’m not in the mood for sex.”

  “You’re always in the mood for sex.”

  “Not this time.”

  “I’ll work on it, persuade you towards a different mindset.” David touched his lips lightly to Lin’s mouth, pulling him closer to his body as he did so.

  Lin gave a small moan as David's hands massaged his buttocks, gently circling so the lingering soreness from the punishment he'd received turned into something different, something that sent pleasurable messages to his groin. The musky sweaty pheromones exuded by David's body amplified the messages, provoking deeper arousal. Almost against his will his lips parted, giving access to David’s tongue. Practised fingers found and encouraged the bulge growing inside the front of his shorts.

  David stopped kissing, a smile curving his mouth, "you're not wearing underwear." He stroked Lin's fine cock through the silky fabric and then cupped his generous balls in his hand, lightly jiggling them with his fingers.

  "You're not wearing a top, but you don't hear me objecting."

  "I'm not objecting, far from it, and seeing as I'm topless you might as well be." Grasping the hem of Lin's t-shirt David pulled it up and over his head casting it aside before pressing his lips to Lin's in a bruising kiss, while simultaneously undoing the fastener on his own shorts, pushing them down along with his boxerbriefs. His thick cock sprang free, jutting hard and proud.

  Breaking the kiss he put his hands on Lin's shoulders, pushing him down to his knees, giving a low growl of pleasure as a skilled tongue skimmed a slick of precum from the head of his cock. Clasping the back of Lin's head he slowly thrust his hips forward, the pleasure intensifying as his shaft slid into Lin's welcoming maw.

  Storm In A Teacup

  Eight

  Stirring from a sex-sated sleep David reached out a hand to touch Lin's body, finding nothing but rumpled sheet. He opened his eyes, blinking a little in the bright light. Lin was standing in front of the mirrored wardrobe, smoothing down the front of a white chef's tunic. “What are you doing, love?”

  “Getting ready for work.” Lin kept his eyes on his reflection in the mirror.

  David came to full wakefulness, propping himself up on an elbow. “There is no work. The Venus is closed. I put a notice up.”

  “I know, but it wasn't set in stone.”

  “Meaning?”

  Lin swallowed. What had seemed reasonable now seemed foolish, not to mention dangerous. He licked his lips, trying to affect an air of casual ease. “I changed it.”

  “You did what?”

  "I changed it, don't be cross, David. I'm fine now."

  David was on his feet in seconds. Scrabbling among the clothing on the bedroom floor he located his boxerbriefs, pulling them on. “How dare you go behind my back like that?”

  “You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. I didn’t think you’d mind, not after…” Lin broke off, his skin colouring as he realised how bad the words were sounding.

  David finished for him, saying coldly, “you thought sex would have sweetened me up enough to allow you to have your own way. You thought wrong.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of cooking, just a simple menu tonight in view of the time. DAVID!” Lin let out a cry as his hand was grabbed and he was jerked out of the room at a speed that almost had him stumbling.

  Keeping a tight grip of Lin�
��s hand David whisked him down the stairs.

  “I have to open tonight, please, David, please, I have to.” Lin’s voice rose towards tearful hysteria as they reached the bottom of the stairs. His hand was let go off and he rubbed it. “Why won’t you listen to me? I can’t afford to close, not with competition looming.”

  “As yet there is no competition.” David flung open the heavy front door and unhooked the menu board, uncaring as to whether any passers by saw him in his underwear. Slamming the door closed he again grasped Lin by the hand. Marching him into the kitchen he sat him down at the table and placed the board in front of him, along with a wad of kitchen paper. “Clean it.”

  Lin stared at his neatly worded menu. It was simple in the extreme, but given the time he’d had to think it up he was proud of it. Seth, the traitor, had delivered a fine array of shellfish early that morning. The menu revolved around them. Shellfish was the fast food of the ocean. It could be turned into something special in a matter of minutes.

  He drew a few deep breaths, trying hard to maintain an air of cool poise when really he could have hit David over the head with the board. “People will be expecting me to open now. Several of them saw me hanging the menu up. I promise not to get stressed or shout and throw things.”

  “You’re already stressed and hysterical about competition from a nonexistent restaurant. Clean the board.”

  Lin leapt to his feet. “You want me to lose my edge, that’s it isn’t it? You want this other restaurant to be more successful than mine.” He gave a hiss of pain as David's palm stung his backside. He was firmly re-seated.

  “Clean the board, Linval, now."

  Lin snatched up the paper towels, wiping away the menu details. “There, happy now.” He flung the soiled towels aside.