Caitlyn blushed, at the mere thought of spending alone-time with Iago. The girls would be so jealous tomorrow. “I wouldn’t be against such an idea,” she said softly.
Iago nodded his head once. “Then we are agreed.”
*
From his vantage point across the road from the
Grand Restaurer de Londres
, Hunter could see Caitlyn and Iago at their window table, he holding her hand while they talked, his eyes never once leaving her face.
Hunter didn’t like it. Should have been him in there with Iago, being the centre of his world, not Caitlyn.
Somehow he had to separate the two of them.
He narrowed his eyes in thought. An opportunity would present itself. He just had to be patient. Although, Hunter wondered, how long could he be patient for?
*
Food finished, bill paid, the two of them headed for the doors where the maître d’ was waiting for them with their coats. Once Iago had slipped into his, he opened Caitlyn’s and allowed her to slip her arms into the sleeves while the maître d’ held onto her purse. She thanked the man, and turned to Iago, who was holding the door open for her.
“After you,” he said.
“Why thank you, sir,” Caitlyn responded, and made to leave. She stopped, her hand holding her stomach as the acids within loudly digested some food. She looked around the restaurant in horror, her cheeks turning red. Normally a bit of gas would not have bothered her, “better out than in” as her mum would say, but with Iago here…
“The oysters might have been a little too rich for me,” she whispered, and Iago nodded in sympathy. But he said nothing, which troubled Caitlyn even more than her unruly stomach.
“The powder room is this way,
Madame
,” the maître d’ said, one arm sweeping in the general direction of the lady’s room.
With a flush, Caitlyn excused herself.
*
With delight he had barely felt before, Hunter watched as Iago stepped out of the restaurant alone. There would never be a better time, he decided, and rushed across the road. Such was his focus that he barely noticed the car racing towards him, but the honking of the horn alerted him in time and he was able to just avoid being hit.
He stepped onto the pavement, smiling at Iago, who, he noticed, had been watching him the whole time. Iago frowned, confusion sweeping across his face.
“Hiya,” Hunter said.
Iago stepped forward, his hand reaching out. “You are…”
“Hunter James. How you doing, love?”
Iago’s hand stopped within centimeters of Hunter. He glanced down at his hand, momentarily uncertain about something. “You are not a woman,” he said, looking back up, his deep brown eyes probing Hunter’s own baby blues, “and yet, somehow…”
“Well, I am sometimes,” Hunter pointed out, “if that helps.”
“Most perplexing. I have never…”
Hunter grinned. This was called knocking a man off his feet. He’d impressed a few men over the years, but never quite left them speechless. He stepped towards Iago, but Iago pulled back quickly, shaking his head.
“No, this is… No.” Abruptly Iago grabbed Hunter by his shoulders. Hunter closed his eyes, feeling Iago’s breath on his face. Utopia was calling him now. “You must leave, this cannot be.”
“Huh?” Hunter opened his eyes, and found his nose almost touching Iago’s. “Don’t be silly, love, you know you want me,” he said, surprising himself with his words. They were so unlike him, but deep down he knew they were true. Hunter frowned a little. “I can feel it.”
Iago’s eyes darted over Hunter’s face. “I do, but… No. Wrong. This is all wrong.”
He released Hunter and stepped back sharply. “Leave!” he hissed, turning away as he did so.
Hunter wanted to step forward, turn Iago around, show the man how much they wanted each other. But something in him broke; the rejection from Iago was too much. Trying to hold back a torrent of sudden tears, Hunter scrambled away.
*
Caitlyn stepped out of the restaurant to find Iago looking down the road, his eyes searching for something, a deep frown creasing his usually beautiful face. She looked to see what he was looking for, but there was nothing, just the usual hustle of people you’d expect to see on a summer’s night by Regent’s Street.
“Sorry about that,” she said, stepping into his line of sight.
Iago blinked, turning his attention to her. He smiled, an act that seemed a little forced to Caitlyn. She brushed the slight feeling of disappointment aside. “Yes, but let us not worry about that now. Shall we go to the hotel?”
Caitlyn put her arm in his and snuggled up to him. “Yes. Let’s.”
*
Together, arm in arm, they set off. Caitlyn filled with more bubbles than the champagne, her mind on the fun they’d have at the hotel. Iago, outwardly smiling, but inwardly still wearing his frown.
That man had confused him, drawn something out of him that only women were designed to do.
Something was wrong with the world.
*
It had been a long time since he’d felt like this about another man, but Hunter could not get Iago out of his head. Sure, he’d had plenty of romances since he came out at fourteen, and most of them had ended well, except for one. That had left him devastated, and he had sworn to himself that he would never ever again allow another man to make him feel that way.
But last night, when Iago had told him to leave…
He’d gone home and cried like a girl. So much and all night long, leaving him so tired in the morning that he had to call into work sick, spending the day in bed. Trying to sleep. And failing miserably at that, too.
The evening had been no better. His day job he could put off; if they complained too much he’d just tell them his mother had died. Wasn’t like he ever spoke to her, so the guilt factor would be pretty low. But his evening job…much like the show, it had to go on.
He was a performer, and Tess Tosterone never kept her audience waiting. Hiding behind the make-up, the glitz, made things easier to deal with, although while singing his end number, a funked up rendition of Madonna’s “Cherish,” he could have sworn he’d seen Iago’s face in the crowd. Several times over.
Now as he approached the converted terraced house, still dressed up as Tess, his mind was returning to Iago again. And he knew, without a doubt, that he had it bad.
Hunter had never been a believer in love at first sight, but after seeing Iago standing outside the cab… Now he
knew
it was possible. No, not just possible, it had happened. To him.
He just had to tell Caitlyn. She would understand. Of course she might be a little angry at first, since technically Iago was hers, but he’d make her realize that his love for Iago was stronger than any lust she felt.
Hunter closed the door behind him and made for his bedroom, which was the first door along the hallway, a few feet away from the living room opposite. “Hi, honey, I’m home,” he called out, using his husky Tess voice. “Be a love and put the kettle on, I’m beyond parched.”
Once he’d dumped his gear in his room and removed his heels (yes, they helped sell the illusion, but they were a nightmare to wear—almost as bad as the tights, but he couldn’t be arsed to remove them yet, besides his cuppa was waiting), he headed into the living room.
Where Caitlyn sat on the sofa with Iago.
Hunter stopped, his heart jumping into his throat. “Oh.”
Caitlyn looked up with a huge grin, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh god,” she said, struggling on to her knees so she was leaning against the back of the sofa. “I was going to introduce you to Iago, but…” She looked Hunter up and down. “Who should I introduce you as?”
Hunter worked his mouth to speak, but no words would emerge, instead all he could do was look at Iago. The man remained where he was sitting, the same look of confusion sweeping across his features like the previous night.
“You really are most perplexing,” Iago said softly.
Caitlyn looked from Hunter to Iago, and back again. Hunter didn’t like the look in her eyes, that suspicious, almost accusatory, stare. He swallowed. “Yeah, get that a lot. Excuse me, love, I just need to go and jump in front of a bus.”
With that he rushed out to his bedroom, his heart a maelstrom of hurt and rejection.
*
Several hours passed before Hunter dared to venture out of his room. The flat was quiet, the living room light off. He had no idea if they were still in or not, he’d made sure his music was on full to drown out any possible noise the two of them might make together. It was bad enough just imagining the things Caitlyn would do to Iago, without the sound effects crashing into his room like some ghastly confirmation.
Now dressed only in his quarter lengths and a tee, he padded down the hallway towards the kitchen, careful to not make any sound as he passed by Caitlyn’s room. Just in case they were in there. He didn’t think he could bear seeing Caitlyn right now, let alone Iago. They had probably had a good laugh at his expense already.
Once in the kitchen he made himself a tea and sat down at the breakfast bar. He sat like that for a while, cradling the hot cup until it was not so hot, his thoughts running wild at what Iago had probably told Caitlyn about last night outside the restaurant. He didn’t know what she’d do about it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. All he knew for sure was that he wanted Iago, way more than Caitlyn could possibly want him. There were things he could do for Iago,
to
Iago, that Caitlyn couldn’t possibly compete with. If only Iago would give him a chance.
He sucked back a sob, just as the door to Caitlyn’s bedroom opened a crack. He looked up, expecting to get Caitlyn’s full wrath, but instead out stepped Iago. At first he was bathed in shadow, his outline implying that he was very naked, but as he stepped into the kitchen light Hunter saw that Iago did, at least, have his boxers on. His
very
tight boxers.
Hunter shifted uncomfortably, folding one leg over the other so as to hide his reaction to Iago’s remarkably perfect body. He swallowed hard, and offered up a “hiya”.
“Hunter,” Iago said, stopping at the breakfast bar directly in front of him. Hunter couldn’t help but notice that his knee was barely an inch from Iago’s crotch. Again he shifted, now even more uncomfortable, the object of his desire so close to him and yet, with Caitlyn only in the next room, so very far away still.
“Why do you perplex me so? Since last night you have filled my mind, and I do not understand why. This has never happened to me before.” Iago shook his head, and sat on the other stool. “I was created for women, not for men, and yet I feel drawn to you.”
“And not a sniff of alcohol, eh, love?”
Iago frowned at this. “No,” he said, his voice carrying a depth of seriousness Hunter had only ever heard from a priest performing last rights.
“Sorry,” Hunter said, trying to keep his own voice serious. Not an easy job; humor was his natural outlet when it came to unexpectedly intense moments like this. “It was a joke, you know, the old story about what’s the difference between a straight man and a gay man?” Iago looked at him blankly. “A few pints?” Still nothing. “Wow, thought everyone had heard of that, love.”
“I have not.” Iago leaned forward. “This world is very strange to me; not as I remember at all.” He sat back, and rested his hands on the breakfast bar. “I was made for women, they are pulled to me irresistibly; this is a fact. But I have noticed men looking at me, before and since last night. I thought they looked with jealousy, angered by the perfection they could never reach. But… Now there is you. And I see it is not jealousy. Like with women, it is desire.”
Hunter didn’t know what to say. Instead he just searched Iago’s face for some trace of humor. Clearly the man had to be pulling his leg. But Iago had the most earnest look that Hunter had ever seen.
“I have filled your head.”
Hunter blinked, not too sure he had heard right. “Sorry?”
“Last night, you were marked by me. Since then all you can do is think of me, is that not so?”
Hunter couldn’t help but smile at this. Wasn’t quite the way he would have put it, but Iago spoke the truth. “Yes, ever since I saw you outside last night I’ve wanted you.”
“Men desiring men?” Iago shook his head, his eyes clouding. “This is wrong.”
“Well, yes and no,” Hunter said slowly, not having expected to delve into such an intense topic so soon. All he really wanted was to get Iago into his bedroom. Only… “It’s not wrong for men to want men, but for me to want you. That’s wrong, love. Caitlyn is my friend, I love her, but…” He tried to find the words, to explain what his heart was telling him. He shrugged. “Truth is, Iago, she is not right for you. I am.” Hunter took a deep breath, glad he had finally said it.
“How can you be? Always there have been men and women. Two sexes, made to procreate, bring forth new life. I was made for women, to impregnate them.”
Now Hunter understood. He had met people like this before, straight men who had never considered the possibility of being bi, until being confronted with that one man who was able to spin their heads. And then the confusion set in.
“Times change, love,” Hunter said, and removed himself off his stool, no longer bothered by the stirring beneath his shorts. “Tell me you haven’t wanted me since last night? You said it yourself, you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“This is true,” Iago said, allowing himself to be pulled gently off the stool. “But it is still wrong.”
“Perhaps,” Hunter said, bringing his face closer to Iago’s, “but sometimes the wrong things are the best things.”
Iago was going to reply, but as soon as his mouth opened Hunter placed his tongue inside. For a moment they remained as they were, their tongues probing each other, casting about inside their mouths, each man enjoying the sensation of being within the other. A precursor to bigger and better things. Hunter was the first to pull away, and when he did he couldn’t help but smile at the way Iago placed one finger on his own lips, his brow furrowing.