by Amos Cassidy
“No cunnilingus for you for a week!” He wagged his finger at her.
Rose felt like her ears had caught fire. Too much information!
Roman gave her a sidelong glance, his lips curved in a sexy smile. “I do have the most amazingly long tongue.”
“Yes.” Thistle agreed, looking dreamy.
“One week, babe.” Roman reminded her before heading out the door. “Just need to slap on some gel,” he called over his shoulder, “and admire my incredibly versatile tongue.”
“Is that to make up for your incredibly small dick?” Rose called after him.
“Just ask Thistle.” He called back.
Thistle held her hands apart indicating the impressive size of Roman’s manhood.
“Really?”
“U-huh.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
They both burst into laughter.
The doorbell rang and Rose went to answer it. Flo was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to her famous trifle.
Faye came tottering into the living room in Rose’s wake, her five-inch heels making her look like she was about to keel forward. “Oh. Hi, Thistle.” She did a dainty finger wave. “Just got off the phone to Catherine, the poor lamb is in bits!” She looked from Rose to Thistle, her eyes wide as she waited for them to ask her to elaborate.
“What happened? Dior run out of her favourite brand of lip gloss?” Rose asked sarcastically.
“No! Her boyfriend just dumped her. She’s really upset, they’ve been seeing each other for a year and he just sent a message to say it’s over!”
“That’s harsh.” Thistle looked aghast
Faye nodded enthusiastically. “It is isn’t it?”
“He could have at least done it face to face.” Thistle finished.
Rose snorted.
“She could really do with a friend right now.” Faye looked expectantly at Rose and the penny dropped. She wanted to invite Catherine over.
Rose held up her hands. “No way! When Hell freezes over!”
Faye looked confused. “You don’t like her?”
Faye asked so uncertainly that Rose felt a pang of guilt. Faye obviously was clueless as to her homicidal feelings toward Catherine. Rose sighed. “Honestly, were you not there last night? The woman’s a bitch with a capital B.”
“I should have explained, she’s honestly really sweet, just a little blunt and stuck in her ways.”
“How old is she anyway? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? How stuck can she be?”
Faye looked wounded and Rose decided to change tack. “Look, hun, I’m not here to choose your friends for you but please do not expect me to willingly spend any time with Catherine. I really don’t like her, okay?”
Faye sighed. “No that’s fine. Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”
Thistle rolled her eyes behind Faye’s back.
“I should really see her tomorrow. She could do with a friend, but I have a date with Harold.” She looked momentarily torn. “Oh well. Harold will understand.” She brightened. “What you doing tomorrow?”
“I was thinking of going to the cinema, maybe some dinner.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I can’t come.”
“I’ll join you if you like?” Thistle volunteered for Faye’s benefit. She didn’t want Faye’s feelings to be hurt if she found out this had already been arranged without her in mind.
“Thanks.” Rose shot her a doubly grateful look.
The doorbell rang.
“Don’t worry, luv. I’ll get it!” Flo shouted as she hurtled past the living room toward the front door.
The party was about to get started.
“I’ll just go find Roman.” Thistle sashayed out of the room.
Everyone was gathered in the living room, drink in hand and nibbling food. Erin was attacking the sausage rolls with vehement gluttony, and equal discretion. Music was playing.
Kris had arrived first, dressed casually in a blue T-shirt and jeans. Fifteen minutes after him, Harold and Damon arrived. Damon, working a 1950’s Hollywood look, had brought two bottles of wine and a cheese platter with him. Harold, in jeans and a tight, muscle-clinging top, came with a crate of beer. Raven arrived shortly after carrying a bottle of expensive whisky and dressed elegantly and stylishly in a black shirt and black trousers.
“Oh my gawd,” Flo gasped. “How much was that?”
Raven looked amused at Flo’s reaction to the gift. “I don’t know. It is with compliments from Richard.”
“He shouldn’t have, but how lovely of him.”
“He just wishes he could attend this evening,” Raven said.
“You tell him that him and Marianne are welcome here anytime.”
“I’ll pass that on.”
“Ooo I love this song.” Thistle began to sway.
The doorbell rang again and Flo went to answer it.
Flo regarded the beautiful, impeccably dressed man on her doorstep. “Hello?”
“Hello. My name is Ossian. Rose and Faye invited me here. You must be Flo.” He extended a hand.
“Rose! Faye!” Flo called. “Sorry, luv. Gotta check that before I let you into me house. You could be anyone.” She smiled to soften the words.
As she waited for the girls to confirm the new arrivals identity, Flo took a moment to take this man in properly. He was stunning. Absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Dressed in a white shirt that flattered every piece of sculpted flesh that it hugged, and black trousers, he looked like a model, except his beauty was beyond any she had ever seen before. He epitomised the term breath taking.
Rose grinning widely. “You came.”
“Wow. And no text book stuffed down your trousers or anything,” Faye drawled sarcastically. “Although maybe we should just check to be sure.” She shot Rose a cheeky wink.
“Faye!” Flo gasped.
Faye smirked. “Just kidding.”
“Now I know you are who you said you are,” Flo said, “I’ll take that hand shake.” They shook hands. “Oh! What lovely soft hands. And ain’t you handsome?” she gushed. “What’s that you got there, luv?”
“Some wine.” Ossian held out the bottle like an offering.
Flo took the offered bottle. “Gorgeous and thoughtful.” She ushered him over the threshold, closing the door behind him. “Rose and Faye will show you through. Help yourself to food. The drinks are in the kitchen. What would you like?”
“A beer would be great,” he said.
“I’ll get that for ya. I’ll be back in a bit. Go in and meet everyone.”
“This way.” Rose steered him toward the living room.
“Everyone,” Faye announced as they entered the living room, “this is Ossian.”
Everyone turned to greet the new arrival and introductions were made– only Raven stood frozen by the window, his gaze raking hungrily over his guilty pleasure.
“No one ever eats the sandwiches,” Roman said. “Whenever anyone puts on a buffet, the poor sarnies get shafted.” He shot the said sandwiches an apologetic look.
The sausage rolls had been depleted, the crisps and cakes too, but only a small number of sandwiches had been devoured. Roman laughed as Flo glared at him while wrapping them up in cling film.
“Don’t know what you’re laughing at,” Flo said. “These are your dinner tomorrow.”
Roman chuckled some more. “Want a hand?”
Flo waved him away. She looked over at Kris, Damon, Harold, Faye, Rose and Ossian sitting around the living room space, chatting and laughing, the atmosphere one of relaxed ease. Erin was in his room watching a DVD. Thistle was dancing by the window. “I think everyone’s having a good time. Thistle is loving the music.” She frowned as her gaze passed over Raven standing near the television, close to the group but not a part of the conversations or laughter. “Raven seems a bit on edge though.”
“He’s got a lot on his plate right now.” Roman said.
“Try and get him to relax a bit, eh?”
Flo gathered the plates of sandwiches, now wrapped snugly in cellophane, and took them out into the kitchen, hips swaying in time to the music.
Roman grabbed a fistful of peanuts and returned to the group, parking himself down on the arm of the sofa, beside Rose.
“We were just talking about all of us going to London Zoo one Sunday,” Kris said to Roman. “What do you reckon?”
“Sounds good to me.” Roman grinned “Kill two birds with one stone.”
Kris looked confused. “Huh?”
“Yeah, we can all have a nice day out and Harold can visit with his relatives.”
Harold shot Roman a lethal look.
Everyone else burst out laughing, even Raven cracked a smile.
Faye ran a soothing hand up and down Harold’s bicep. “Aw, baby, he didn’t mean it. He obviously has to overcompensate for his lack of charisma by resorting to lame jokes.” She glared at Roman.
“Well some of us have just got it and others can only strive to achieve.” Harold looked at Roman smugly. “Don’t worry, mate. I’m happy to give you a few pointers. There’s more to a relationship than a few lays you know.”
“That’s rich coming from the king of one night stands.” Roman retorted, ignoring Harold’s look of warning. “You think I’m bad, this bloke could give a summer bunny on Steroids and Viagra a run for its money.”
Harold looked at Faye, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
He must really like her, Rose thought.
Faye, however, looked unfazed by the ribbing. “Well I can certainly vouch that my man doesn’t need Viagra to do the biz. Besides, sometimes you need to try on a lot of outfits till you find one that suits you best.”
Typical Faye and her fashion orientated analogies.
Harold grinned, slinging a possessive arm over Faye’s shoulder.
Roman had the grace to look slightly contrite.
Deciding it was time to change the subject, Rose turned the attention to Ossian. “So, Ossian, how’s the studying coming along?”
“Sod that!” Roman interjected. “Tell us about you.”
Ossian smiled. “What would you like to know?”
“Have you got a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“A boyfriend?”
“No.”
“A bit on the side?”
“No. I don’t really have time for relationships. I wish I did.”
Roman leant forward as if about to impart a great pearl of wisdom. “It’s all about work-life balance. Equal time for work and play. Think of your time as a pie chart and make sure you leave a big slice for shagging.” Roman winked and tapped the side of his nose with his index finger.
“If only mapping out your life was as simple as creating a pie chart,” Ossian said.
Roman clapped his hands together. “Ossian, my friend, let the master teach you how. Hot bloke like you deserves more action than turning the pages of a text book.” He slung an arm around Rose’s shoulders as he spoke. She threw his arm off.
“Don’t listen to him,” Harold said. “He’s mostly full of hot air and a big dose of shit.”
Roman laughed loudly. “Yeah, both of which I borrowed off you Dickie-kins!”
Harold growled.
“Is Dickie-kins your surname?” Ossian asked Harold.
Roman roared with laughter, Kris and Damon joined him.
Harold was not amused. “They call me Dickie because my surname is Dickinson,’ he said, voice cold. “Dickie-kins, it seems, is the new spin.” He sighed.
His obvious resignation had Roman, Damon and Kris laughing even harder.
“Are they taunting you again, Harold?” Flo said, swigging a can of lager as she returned.
“They’re just immature children,” Harold responded.
Faye slid onto Harold’s lap. “Ignore them.” She stroked his hair. “They’re just jealous.”
Roman shook his head. “Of what?”
Faye leaned into Harold, pressing her lips to his and delivering a long, sensuous kiss. There was more than a little tongue involved. Beginning to feel like a voyeur, Rose quickly looked away. The kiss finally broke and Harold grinned wickedly.
“Behave your bleedin’ selves,” Flo said. “That stuff’s for behind closed doors.”
“I think what she’s trying to say is ‘get a room’.” Kris clarified.
“That’s the one, luv, thanks. I need to brush up on me lingo.” She stood up “I’m going for a fag.”
Rose hid her smile. Flo would blow an artery if she ever went out clubbing, with all the things that went on in the dark corners of a club. She could just imagine her wandering around giving the lip-lockers clips around the ears and telling them to “get a bleedin’ room!” She was pulled away from her thoughts by the feel of Roman’s arm snaking its way back over her shoulder. What was his problem?
She threw his arm off again and he shot her a wounded look, which she pointedly ignored.
Harold caught her eye. “What did you two get up to last night, then?” He jerked his head in Thistle’s direction who stood by the group swaying to the music like an enthralled cobra.
Thistle’s eyes locked with Rose’s, her sways remaining uninterrupted.
“Drank, danced and had fun,” Rose replied quickly.
Thistle smiled and closed her eyes, giving herself up to the music.
“My kind of night,” Roman said.
Flo burst back into the room. “Come on, everyone!” she ordered, throwing her cigarette packet onto the buffet table. “I love this song! We need to get some dancing going on. Come on, up you get! We can’t have Thistle doing it alone.”
“Wanna dance?” Roman stood up and offered a hand to Rose.
Rose contemplated his hand for a moment before accepting it and allowing herself to be hauled off the sofa. What was the harm in a dance? So he was an arrogant playboy? And yes she found him attractive, but she had to live with the guy so she needed to get over it and just be natural around him.
“Show me what you’ve got,” he said.
“You can’t handle what I’ve got.”
The living room was suddenly an impromptu dance floor.
Raven couldn’t take his eyes off Ossian. He was intoxicated by the way he laughed, the way he smiled, the sound of his voice, everything about the man was driving him crazy. Not once did Ossian look at him. Had he upset him by the way he acted the other day? And was this to become a regular thing now, at Flo’s? Would Ossian become part of the group now?
“Come on, Raven.” Flo beckoned to him.
It was then that he noticed Ossian’s eyes on him and heat surged up his body, his breath catching in his throat. He struggled to read Ossian’s expression and failed. And then Ossian was dancing with Faye, his attention fully on the fiery woman.
Raven smiled apologetically at Flo. “I just need some fresh air.” His eyes were drawn back to Ossian and he watched him spin and step to the beat, his hair swaying hypnotically. He felt constricted, suffocated– being in the same room as Ossian was like standing too close to a precipice, the fall from which would be the sweetest bliss. The butterflies in his stomach surged up, beating against his ribcage. He bit back a growl of frustration. None of it mattered because he knew that no matter how he felt, how entranced he was, he couldn’t be with Ossian, even if Ossian were interested. Ossian was a student, it just wasn’t done. And Ossian certainly wasn’t interested anyway. He hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge him! He wasn’t about to stay and be driven crazy. He needed some release. He tore his gaze away to find Flo staring at him strangely. “I really need some fresh air.”
“Fine,” Flo said. “But you’re mine when you come back in. Don’t be too long now.”
Raven grabbed his coat and left the house, shutting out the laughter and music from within. Ossian’s strange cologne clung to the inside on his nostrils, making his pulse race.
He quickly made his way down Ellison Street, heading to
Hammersmith tube station, which was only two minutes from Flo’s. He ran down the steps, slapped his Oyster Card on the panel to open the barrier, and descended the escalator quicker than it could descend itself.
With a nice helping of luck and the power of wishful thinking, a train arrived within seconds of him reaching the platform. He took a seat and a deep breath. The doors closed and the train pulled away.
17.
THE WALLFLOWER
Supernova was a gay club in Soho and the stars, planets, galaxies and spectacular satellite pictures of the amazing colours and explosions caused by a dying star were everywhere, screen printed and stuck onto the walls. A glittering disco ball spun to add more stars to the dark club. Strobe lights pulsed, the music throbbed and a fog machine occasionally released some mist for added effect.
Raven handed in his coat at the cloakroom and undid some buttons on his shirt. He wasn’t particularly vain, although he did like to maintain a clean, smart look. However, he knew that undoing his shirt some way, just to expose the right amount of flesh, would get him what he wanted. And soon he got just that. He smiled as he approached the bar, aware of all eyes on him.
“Hello,” a man said loudly. He was of athletic build, obviously into sport. He held a glass in his hand with a neon ice cube in it. Raven picked up his scent– he was a warlock. Supernova was a favourite haunt for a lot of gay supernatural beings as well as humans. The humans were blissfully unaware that they were using chat up lines on vampires, werewolves and warlocks. And it would stay that way. Being a supernatural was not something you ever told a possible human partner, or any human. All that mattered was having fun, sex and maybe even finding love. That was all both parties wanted.
Raven smiled, his silver eyes twinkling. He was glad he’d left the party. He needed out, needed sex.
“Get you a drink?” the sports man asked.
“No thank you,” Raven said.
“Don’t you drink?”
“Sometimes.”
“So why not now?”
Raven simply smiled enigmatically and headed away from the bar and onto the dance floor. The sports man was not the only one to follow him. Raven knew that by merely approaching the bar and standing there for a moment he would garner attention. He was soon surrounded by lots of men of all shapes and sizes. He wasn’t going to pick one just yet. The night was young. And maybe he was in the mood for more than one because sometimes one wasn’t enough.
