by Ian Thomas
How stupid could Jason be, he fumed. Steroids? What a fool. Especially whatever pumped him up like that. When Mitch had been in high school guys he knew had ‘roided up, cycling on and off. But usually they didn’t show results until the second cycle. This was… Why did the word ‘impressive’ come to his mind so quickly?
But that much change in a month was impressive. And dangerous. Explained Jason’s odd behavior, Mitch reasoned carrying more trash out to the dumpster.
He looked at the back door to the apartment. Would that he could have a few minutes with Jason. To apologize. To take back what he’d started.
Trying the door, he was disappointed to find it locked. Unsure of what he would have said, he headed back into the coffee shop. His face burned when he saw the staff area where they’d shared two kisses. Where he’d rejected Jason. Where Jason rejected him. The poetic irony was not lost on Mitch. He only looked like an oaf, he wasn’t actually one, but it didn’t remove the shame he felt.
He felt the pressure to look good as much as Jason did. In high school, he’d contemplated steroids. Most guys his age did. Who didn’t want a shortcut to looking good? Especially when the people he was attracted to – male and female – were super hot. Thankfully his genetics had gifted him with chiseled features, a high metabolism, and bulk. Even still, he felt the pressure for perfection. Which sadly didn’t inform his interactions with potential partners. While he could fall for a smart, witty, easy-going person and make a substantial emotional connection with them, Mitch could never get past the physical. Danny and Jason were the ultimate examples. Danny was beige as hell. Minimal personality, weak sense of humor, and thought tight-end was a gay subtribe. Then there was Jason. Smart, witty, usually easy-going and possibly one of the nicest people Mitch knew. Yet not even the emptiness of a post-coital conversation with Danny could make him see Jason as the better choice.
Until recently.
But Jason was different now. Meaner.
Of course that was Mitch’s doing.
“What happened to Jason?” Blake asked, lying up demi-tasse cups at the machine.
“Bins are done. Back area’s all good,” Mitch replied, ignoring her. “Anyone checked the bathrooms?”
“Be my guest,” Blake said, sharing a questioning look with Ethan who was on the register.
“I can do it,” Jeremy said, having just bussed the tables.
“I said I’ll do it,” Mitch said firmly.
“No but seriously where is Jason?” Blake asked, looking to the rear of the store.
“Who gives a shit?! Guy wants to disappear. I say we give him that right.”
“Everything okay?” Ethan asked between customers, his tone stern.
“Sure, just love that people would rather work with him than me.”
“No one said that,” Jeremy replied, ever the peacemaker. But too many of the staff – and a couple of regular customers – looked at Blake.
“Once. I said it once.”
“You know you claim to be all miss liberal and shit and yet you wrote me off the second you met me. What? Because I look like some jock who was an asshole to you in high school?”
“No because–”
“I was being rhetorical. And yet you like Jason. Why? Because he overtly ticks some minority box? He’s not so perfect. Jason’s shadier than I am.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Mouth asked, having just walked into the coffee shop. “You guys doing an amateur production of every family dinner at my house ever?”
“Nah, just calling people on their bullshit view of your buddy Jason.”
“Mitch,” Ethan called, sternly. The coffee shop had emptied some at the argument.
“Maybe we could do this out the back?” Mouth asked, spoiling for the fight.
“Really? This your idea of friendship? Make a show with everyone else but not do the actual friend thing to Jase? You’re a real piece of work.”
“Mitch!” Blake said loudly. “I think you’re done here.”
He looked around at the shocked faces of the staff and the few customers nearby. Tearing off his apron, he stormed out the back, grabbed his jacket and clocked out. The whole coffee shop silently watched him walk back out from behind the counter and out the front door.
●●●
“What the hell was that about?” Mouth demanded.
But Blake ignored him and called out to the patrons. “We’re really sorry about that folks. We’re offering free coffees to apologize for the disturbance. At the counter or Jeremy has vouchers.” She grabbed the voucher pad and shoved it at Jeremy. “Here. Take the vouchers. Take the damn vouchers. Say it was a family crisis. And smile.”
“Yes ma’am.” There was two years between them but Jeremy had admitted he was scared of her.
“You too, smile. A lot,” she told Ethan.
“Mind telling me what that was?” Mouth hissed, leaning alongside the coffee machine.
“Tell me and we’ll both know.” Quickly she filled him in on the burst pipe and Jason’s presumably helping out but that was the extent of her knowledge. “I guess Jason made another pass at him.”
“He never struck me as dumb enough to do that twice.”
“He never struck me as dumb enough to fall for Mitch.”
“But you saw him? Jason? In the flesh?”
“Yeah, why? Haven’t you?”
“Not since the weekend. Seems to be either here, sleeping upstairs, or at the gym.”
“Well it seems to be working,” Blake said. “He’s looking good for someone doing so many overnights.”
“Hey!”
She took a breath. “Thing is you always look kinda pissed off that I don’t know if that’s a you-thing or because of the radio show.”
“I can accept that.”
“Another satisfied customer,” Ethan said, leaning on the coffee machine next to Blake. “And by satisfied I mean not upset or wanting to call the manager.”
“It’s New York. The fact that no one pulled a knife or lawsuit means it probably wasn’t taken seriously,” Blake said.
“Some guy filmed it,” Jeremy said to which the other three collectively clenched. “But I got him to delete it.”
“You are our employee of the month,” Blake declared.
“Wait, is that a thing?” he asked excitedly.
“You have gotta stop fucking with people,” Ethan said to her. “Speaking of which…”
“Someone had better go after him,” Blake said, then saw their astonished looks. “No, I’m being serious.”
“Like he said,” Mouth muttered, “you gotta stop fucking with people.”
“Don’t look at me,” Jeremy said.
Soon enough, all eyes fell on Ethan. “Fine, I’ll go. But there will be no hugging.”
“Thank you,” Blake said.
“Hey so does anyone have a key for upstairs?” Mouth asked leaning on the counter. In the past few days Mouth’s foray into stalking had increased. Not purely because Jason had joined a gym. He just felt this phase, sulk, isolation, or whatever it was had gone on long enough. Camping outside Jason’s classes had proven fruitless. Seemed his roommate had stopped going altogether. Though that wasn’t the most drastic of his stalking. Not by a long shot. Mouth had gone so far as to visit every local gym under the guise of wanting to sign up in order to find Jason.
“Why don’t you bail on the radio show one night?” McLachlan had asked during the actual radio show. “You know exactly where he’ll be and he can’t avoid you.” With Matteo going to ground, he knew something of Mouth’s frustration over Jason’s absence.
“Seems kinda confrontational.”
“Well, A, it’s you. And B, how is it any different to following him to a gym?”
“I’ll think about it.” He had, but now that Mitch had called him a bad friend, he knew there was only one option. Ditch the show for an hour.
That or wait for the weekend when he had the night off and could casually-on-purpose show up and co
rner Jason.
“No, sorry, Jase must be using the spare,” Blake replied. “Eddie has one I think.”
Breaking and entering wasn’t entirely a stretch from stalking, Mouth thought. Plus it would give him a chance to try out all of those nifty techniques to open locked doors he’d picked up from TV. Credit card, hair clips, thin wire stretched out. Could be quite exciting. If a little hard to explain.
Frustrated, he turned to the front door as Rebecca and McLachlan entered.
“What’s up with Ian?” McLachlan asked, stumbling over the right name. “Dean? Kevin?”
“Ethan,” Mouth corrected, frustrated. “You have coffee here every day, dude. Get the names right.”
“You’re a dick,” McLachlan said flatly.
●●●
While McLachlan knew Mouth and Dylan were different people, his younger brother had proven a great training ground for dealing with Rebecca’s co-host.
“Speaking of dick,” Mouth said, “apparently Jason was around earlier. Might even be upstairs as we speak.”
“What? You want us to go kick down the door?” McLachlan asked. “Cos I’m up for that ya know.”
“No one’s kicking in anything,” Rebecca said.
“Gonna have to soon or he’ll be looking at a grade reduction,” Mouth said.
Rebecca seemed deflated. “Not necessarily, he’s still going to Rogalsky’s sessions.”
“What a dick!” McLachlan said. He forgot the real world continued unblemished by the supernatural. And normal life could sting as well.
“Hey!” Mouth said defensively, then stopped himself. “Actually I got nothing to back that up.”
“S’okay,” Rebecca replied. “It’s almost a compliment. No really, he knows I’d be tough on him. And he’s clearly not in a place for that.”
“So kicking down the door?” McLachlan suggested to Mouth.
“Pretty much.”
“You’re not kicking down the door,” she said firmly. “Would either of you respond well to people storming in on their pain?”
“After a while,” McLachlan replied.
“Yeah, like eventually.”
“My point exactly.” Rubbing Mouth’s arm, she smiled gently. “I get you miss him. We all do. But we gotta let this run its course.”
Clearly dissatisfied with the advice Mouth took his coffee from the counter and headed for the door.
“Um,” McLachlan said, watching the young man skulk off down the street. “You do get I have anecdotal proof that’s the worst advice ever.”
“What? You and Matteo?”
“Yeh-huh.”
“Um, making an unsuccessful pass at a boy or practically being gutted by a demonic cult and ultimately betrayed by your only son,” she replied, weighing the matters with her hands. “Little different.”
“Not to Jason.”
“Oh look at you trying to be all sensitive and genuine,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Did ya pull something? Ya need to sit down?”
“Yeah, I really do,” McLachlan said, taking a deep breath.
While Rebecca went to the counter, McLachlan headed to took a seat. Typically he wasn’t the type to pull his phone out to bridge isolated moments and escape into a scrolling wall of distraction and banality, but with Matteo back in the world he was anxious.
Apparently the week had gone well so far. Blackthorne and his wolves proving a pleasant diversion from everything that had sent Matteo into reclusion. However, the sudden change from a pants-optional, peanut-butter-fueled, endless parade of sexual fulfillment to leaving the house and engaging in actual conversations was wearing him down. No spice-based safety word had been mentioned as yet though McLachlan felt it was close. Hence he was jumping at any message tone or vibration.
Dylan // 9:22
Mom and Dad are coming to visit?!?!
Are they visiting you?
WTF!?!?!!!?
McLachlan laughed aloud. Having Dylan back in his life – even if only by text message – was a great feeling.
McLachlan // 9:22
If you needed further
proof of how much they
disliked Julie – here it is.
Dylan’s message did remind him he hadn’t talked to his parents in a few days. If he had he might have gotten wind of their travel plans.
Dylan // 9:23
I wonder if she’ll take me back?
McLachlan // 9:23
Not cool. So not cool.
It’ll be great. You can show them
you’re doing really well in London.
Dylan // 9:24
Holy shit!!!!!
You’re enjoying this,
Aren’t you???!!!
McLachlan // 9:24
I really feel we need to
discuss your crimes against punctuation.
Harvard would not be impressed.
Dylan // 9:24
You are!
You really are enjoying this!
McLachlan // 9:24
And you’re being…well – you.
Dylan // 9:25
If that’s supposed to be an insult
you might want to try harder.
McLachlan // 9:25
Get some fucking perspective!
You’re not sixteen anymore!
You’re a grown adult. A lawyer even.
You can handle a parental visit.
McLachlan // 9:26
Oops. Forgot who I was talking to.
You can’t handle this at all.
●●●
McLachlan // 14:26
Oops. Forgot who I was talking to.
You can’t handle this at all.
Dylan looked at the last message aghast. For the duration of their supposed feud, Dylan lacked anyone to check his behavior. As the supposedly smitten boyfriend of Julie, his role had demanded a great deal of censorship he no longer needed. However he’d forgotten how much McLachlan challenged him.
Dylan // 14:28
You do get that NYC is on
the way to London, right?
“You. Suck!” Freddie grunted, straining to get the barbell to full extension. Weights crashed onto the rack as he sat up. “I’m gonna start coming on my own or bloody well ban phones from the gym.”
“You got there didn’t you?” Dylan asked, looking up from his phone.
Only Freddie challenged him as much as McLachlan. They had less history so Freddie was more cautious about properly taking Dylan on. Well, he had. Since the breakup the Englishman had pushed against him more often.
“Since when did you become a mindless prole permanently attached to his phone?”
“About the time you couldn’t bench one fifty.”
“One fifty?!?” Freddie looked at the weights on the bar and saw Dylan’s error. “For a bunch of upstarts who rejected the empire, it amazes me how you clutch to empirical measurements.”
“You know what I meant.”
With a smirk declaring his win, Freddie stood, chest puffed and worked to the rear of the bench press. Leisurely sipping from his drink bottle he kept an eye on his gym partner. Dylan set the phone down and took a seat on the bench. Laying back he took hold of the bar, inhaled deep, and pushed upwards.
“It’s okay by me if you want to regress to some mindless adolescent chained to a device, but do be a good chap and stay off Tinder.”
Practically throwing the bar back onto the rack, Dylan sat up incensed.
“Not cool. Not while I’m mid-rep.”
“Wasn’t sure we had rules on these things.”
“The party of the first part – that being you – are totally not allowed dick moves to the party of the–”
“Stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Me!”
“Yes you. Ever since you returned, you’ve been looking for a fight. Practically seeking it out.”
“Bullshit.”
“I could barely fathom your relationship with Julie on a good day. And lord help me, I
actually spent a few hours pondering the matter. You were tense most of the time.”
“I was not.”
“My father’s generally a vile man. Bought into the class system utterly. No one could meet his high standards. Or be worthy of his family name. For the better part of my life I was on edge. Never could I do anything to please him. And the moment I stopped caring about that…well that was quite liberating.”
“Most after school specials have a point, ya know.”
“That I’m still waiting for your liberation.”
Silently, Dylan mulled over Freddie’s words. His friend had the measure of him. That much was clear. And in truth Dylan had been waiting for his own liberty only for it to never arrive. Having his brother back made everything better, yet a sense of wariness plagued him. However expected any retribution from the Cult or Julie was, his unease was more deeply ingrained.
“This is not me shrinking you, but I wonder if maybe whatever mode you were in when you were with Julie hasn’t ended when the relationship did.”
“Actually I think this is you shrinking me,” Dylan bristled aggressively. He lay back down and pushed out five more reps. The last eliciting a frustrated roar. “You’re up.”
Freddie took Dylan’s place, cowed. Attentively Dylan spotted him, easing the weight up only when he felt the man’s energy flag. After another set each Freddie went to refill his bottle and Dylan checked his phone. Both of the seemed to be missing James. Who knew the Irishman provided such a buffer, Dylan thought.
Hayley // 15:01
Hey, so if some random blonde
idiot contacts you, we’re starting something.
We’re not actually starting something.
Just be a good boy and play along.
“What the?!?”
Dylan // 15:02
What the?!?
Looking up as he waited for her reply, he saw Freddie had moved to a cable machine, having already started.
Hayley // 15:03
Please just try to be one of those
Smile and nod guys okay?
Very little more to it than that.
“You’re turn,” Freddie said.
Pushing through the set quickly, Dylan leapt on his phone, the perfect rejoinder coming to him.
Dylan // 15:06
