Served With a Twist

by Jet Lupin

  “No, no, it’s fine. Just, is there a dress code?”

  “Nothing like that. The people who come here do like to show off a little, though.”

  “But are we going to be alright in there?” Cut supposed Samson was dressed as casually as he was, but they were the only ones. Samson was a regular, clearly, but was Cut going to be alright in there? He hadn’t come all the way out here to embarrass himself.

  Samson shifted his gaze to Cut, scanning him from boots to the dark blue locs on the crown of his head. Cut shifted, smoothing out invisible creases in his jeans before Samson said, “You look good to me.”

  He seemed so sure; Cut felt he had to trust him on this. At least, if he was wrong, they’d get thrown out together. Nothing took the sting out of embarrassment quite like sharing it.

  Samson stood aside and Cut preceded him into the restaurant, but then he scampered on ahead to talk to the host, making the whole exercise useless. They whispered among themselves, giving Cut ample time to verify that his ass was just as amazing in jeans as dress pants, before the host escorted them to a secluded corner meant for a party of six or more. The other patrons had enough class to pretend that their meals and conversations were more engrossing than the out of place strangers getting a whole section to themselves.

  His anxiety subsiding as they took their seats allowed Cut to take things in properly. He saw the wire brush marks on the metal of the sconces that illuminated the room. When he flicked his gaze up, he saw the hand turned wires on the ornaments hanging from the chandeliers. On the glasses, the stems were so delicate and thin, yet when he picked up his to test that theory, it didn’t feel fragile in the hand. Everything was so refined and well-made in a way that made him feel small and cheap. But he’d push through it for now.

  Cut claimed the bench against the wall, preferring to see anything coming his way, while Samson took the chair across from him, his back to the rest of the dining room. He shrugged out of his jacket and set it beside him. Cut took Samson’s jacket when he divested himself of it and did the same. Samson picked up the thin tablet that served as the menu and swiped through it. Cut gave an appreciative glance to those wide shoulders and the bit of collarbone peeking out from the open neck of Samson’s shirt before turning his gaze down to his own menu.

  “I recommend anything but the fish. Issues with the suppliers. The beef is very good, though.”

  “You really know your stuff.” Of course someone like Samson came here regularly. A high class spot for a high class guy. Cut carefully sipped water from an elegant crystal glass.

  Samson put down the tablet, grinned. “I should. I own the place.”

  Water dribble down Cut’s chin when he nearly choked on it. He quickly mopped it up with his sleeve. It was better his stubble got a little wet than spraying Samson’s face.

  “You own this whole place? By yourself?”

  “I hope you don’t mind me showing off a little. Everything you get will be gratis, of course. So go nuts. I needed you to know that I really can pay whatever you ask. I’m serious about this.”

  Cut moved to the edge of his seat. Just because no one was blatantly watching didn’t mean they weren’t listening. “Explain what you mean by this? I have an idea, but we’ve got to be on the same page.”

  “O-of course.” Samson wet his own lips with a little water.

  He seemed a little flustered. That was the last thing Cut wanted.

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

  “It’s a bit much to say over the table.” But it had to be said. If they didn’t have honest, open communication from the beginning, there was no point in starting at all.

  But if Samson had concerns about being overheard, Cut had a simple solution. He scooted over on the bench. “Join me. There’s plenty of room on this side.”

  Samson froze and swallowed so hard Cut swore he heard it. He thought that might have been a step too far, but Samson came around to his side of the table, and they sat hip-to-hip. The cushion was wide enough to accommodate both of them with room to spare. A server rushed over and repositioned Samson’s place setting before disappearing as quickly as they came.

  There was that scent again, sweet and thickened by Samson’s natural aroma. Cut was suddenly aroused and uncomfortable. He shifted to adjust his cock into a more comfortable position, and his thigh brushed against Samson’s. The bigger man snapped his leg away for an instant before he relaxed again. Somehow, knowing he was nervous too helped Cut relax. Maybe too much.

  He rested a hand on Samson’s knee and squeezed. When he realized what he’d done, Cut pulled away and set both his hands on the table.

  “So,” he coughed. “Let’s start with the alley and why you were there.”

  Samson dropped to a whisper, bringing his head so near Cut’s they almost touched foreheads. This was so intimate, it did nothing to help Cut calm down. “My job… my life, is high stress. Every day I deal with pressures from work, from my family… It gets to be a lot. And I needed an escape.” He dragged in a shaky breath. “I needed to destress. That seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Cut picked up the tablet for something to do with his hands. “Cruising for strangers?”

  Samson flushed. “The strangers aren’t part of the appeal. That part was new. I wasn’t even looking. They made a pass at me and I reacted without thinking. Honestly, it could have been anyone if they’d come at me the right way.”

  “And what way was that? What were you looking for?”

  Samson took a sip from his water. “Someone to take charge. I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to be in charge for a while, and they were saying all these things that they’d do to me, and honestly, it sounded pretty good. But then they got too rough...”

  “There are professionals you can pay for that sort of thing. Not many out here, but some if you aren’t picky about their parts.” There were also sites where he could talk to like-minded people. He wasn’t sure what the scene was like in Izanami since that wasn’t his thing, but there was someone out there.

  “I tried that. It’s not the same. Their ideas and mine were too different, and you have to pay the pros just to talk to them about it, like going to a lawyer. We went round and round for weeks and never wound up anywhere. Taking a chance with random people seemed easier.”

  “And stupider. It’s not something you can pick up off the street like a bottle of painkillers. You should have vetted them first.”

  Samson fixed his gaze on the tablecloth. “I know. I know…It was reckless. It took seeing you there to realize that I was out of control. When you said you could help, I knew I had to reach out to you.”

  The way he talked about it, Samson sounded like an addict, losing his way. Cut had offered his help in the heat of the moment, but now he couldn’t just take it back. If what Samson needed was truly out of his depth, Cut would find someone who could give him what he seemed to crave. He couldn’t just leave Samson to his own devices.

  “But why me?” There were all those other avenues they’d just discussed

  “I know you.”

  “We’ve hardly spoken to each other.”

  “I’ve talked with you more than I did to those guys. And from what you did, I know you’re a better person than they were. You could have left me to them, or taken my belongings and left me there, barefoot and naked with no way to get home.”

  Cut started to say that someone wouldn’t do that, but he knew he was wrong. The wrong person would do exactly that, and might even have joined in. The thought of someone like that finding Samson first made him sick.

  Samson nudged Cut’s shoulder. “You haven’t ordered yet. Should I… Can I pick for you?”

  Cut handed over the tablet. Samson sat up straighter, index finger hovering over its surface. “Is there anything you don’t eat or drink?”

  “Nope. I’m open to anything as long as it’s not too exotic.” The latest culinary trend sweeping th
e net was a species of slugs that resided in a deep lake on colony Cut hadn’t bothered to remember the name of. He saw them in an article once, covered in slime with odd green and teal markings on their blue bodies. They were interesting to look at, like most marine creatures were, but he didn’t know why they were considered a delicacy. He could never afford to try them himself, but he found the idea of them so unappealing that he didn’t want to even eat them for free. Yet, he wasn’t above eating a sandwich that had fallen to the sticky floor behind the bar once or twice.

  It was twice.

  “How does a side of beef sound?”

  “Like a steak?” A place like this had to have top of the line cuts, undoubtedly better than anything he could buy himself. He was starting to drool at the thought of it.

  He swallowed the saliva that welling up in his mouth so he didn’t slur when he spoke again. “Sounds good to me.”

  Samson set the tablet down and someone came and swept both of them off the table. “I’ve ordered a few other things, too. No matter where we end up with this, hearing me out this long deserves a reward.”

  Like magic, glasses of something pink and bubbly were brought to the table along with some small plates of cheese, bread, oil and olives. Cut hadn’t had these since he was a kid. He went for those first and popped one into his mouth. More bitter and salty than he remembered, but still so good that he groaned. Samson didn’t attack the food with the same gusto, merely sitting and watching.

  “Do you like it so far?”

  Was he kidding?

  Cut dabbed his cleaned fingers on a napkin. “It’s amazing.” It had been so long since he’d had something that tasted like it was fresh off the tree. He imagined all the food here would follow suit, and they were just getting started! How could he ever go back to his usual fair of freeze-dried or deep fried?

  Samson’s tan cheeks reddened slightly. He helped himself to a piece of bread, dipped it in oil. Cut would try that next.

  Samson walked him through how long to hold the bread in the oil, passed him a fresh napkin without Cut having to ask. He seemed sweet to the point of being saccharine. If Cut hadn’t seen it for himself, he never would have imagined him seeking out partners in the dark. He was lucky Cut happened upon him when he did. Those guys would have eaten him alive.

  “How often do you go prowling around like that? Really.” He said it was new, but Cut wasn’t sure he bought that.

  “That was the first time. I mean, I’ve hooked up with people through apps before, but it never worked out how I wanted. People tend to look at you weird when you say you want to kneel in front of them and be given orders to the extent I want.” He gave a mirthless laugh, those pretty eyes focused down at the table. Cut wanted that gaze fixed on him.

  “I’ll do it.” Cut wouldn’t risk letting him go back out there. “We’ll have to figure out payment and set some ground rules, but we can try it for now. If, at any time, you want to back out, or I do, then we both stop. But above all else, I’m not going to hurt you slap you around. That’s not me.”

  He expected that last bit to throw Samson off, but instead, he was squirmed in his seat, fit to burst.

  “Did you have an idea of when you want to start?” He was so damn eager; Cut wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this.

  “Two weeks sound good? It’ll give us time to iron out the details of this thing.” That ought to be enough time for Cut to do some research.

  Samson nodded. “Whatever works for you. There’s just one more, tiny thing.” He rifled through his bag a moment. Cut had forgotten it was there, considering how heavy their conversion had been until now. “This is a standard NDA. My lawyers requested I give them to anyone I consort with. I didn’t get the chance to make those guys to sign one… A mistake on my part.”

  “If they come forward, you can say they attacked you. I’d testify to it.”

  More shifting caused Samson’s leg to brush along Cut’s. Samson slid the tablet over. “I had the lawyers write it in plain language. Not everyone is fluent in legalese.”

  It was indeed easy for Cut to follow. The terms were also reasonable. No part of their relationship should be made public without the explicit consent of both parties under penalty of litigation. In other words, they’d sue him so far into the ground that anyone who even tried to find him would need an earth mover and several zoning permits. Cut had no one to tell let alone anyone who’d care about his sex life, so all this was fine by him.

  He read it through to the end twice to be sure there weren’t any hidden clauses or things buried in the fine print. But there it all appeared to be exactly as it said.

  The food arrived while Cut read, and Samson waited for him to finish.

  There was a seal at the bottom along with two signatures and two mail addresses already there. One set presumably belonged to the lawyer, and the other was Samson’s.

  There was no way Cut could lose. As long as he kept his mouth shut, and they were compatible, he’d come out of this a much richer man.

  He went ahead and signed it and filled in his address. Samson reached over and tapped on the seal. The document closed and at the same time, his pod buzzed with a message. Samson’s pod also rumbled quietly in his pocket. Somewhere, a lawyer received a similar notification.

  That was it then. He was locked in for the time being. This was going to be interesting.

  Samson reached for the fizzy pink drink at his side, and Cut did the same. “Should we toast?” When Samson looked to him expectantly, Cut wracked his brain for something appropriate.

  He lifted his glass. “To what will be a rewarding and enjoyable relationship.”

  Samson clinked his glass to Cut’s, so it must have been acceptable. There was no telling if things would turn out that way, but one thing was for sure. Cut had a lot of work ahead of him these next two weeks. But not before he got to try this food!

  Chapter 4

  C

  ut was the worst friend.

  He’d been so busy with work that he hadn’t checked in with Mikaela in weeks. They liked and commented on each other’s Clicky posts and traded memes as they were falling asleep, but they hadn’t spoken in weeks and hadn’t seen each other face-to face in longer.. The most damning part was that they didn’t live far from each other. Only three short streets separated them, yet the thing that brought him outside Mikaela’s door now wasn’t a want for camaraderie, but the need for information.

  Cut hit the buzzer and seconds later Mikaela’s face appeared on the screen above it. Their hair a cloud of light tangles and the bags under their eyes were deeper and darker than normal. They yawned, stretching their mouth wide, inadvertently showing off a couple of their metal replacement teeth. When they finally realized who’d come calling, they straightened up and moved closer to the cam.

  “Whoa. Kind of early to drop by unannounced, isn’t it?”

  Cut knew this would happen. He pulled out his pod and brought up the conversation. “I asked last night if it was all right to come by today, said I’d bring caf and you said ‘uh, yeah! Lul XD!’”

  Mikaela checked their pod. “You can’t hold me accountable for things I said when I was high and half sleep. But fine. I’ll buzz you in. Give me a second.”

  A beep went off and the small blue light above the door blinked. Cut let himself in.

  As always, Mik’s place was a stunning display of curated green chaos. Plants exploded from every available space, hanging over the tops of door frames and from shelves. If the oxygen plants ever failed, Cut knew where he’d hold up.

  He was fingering a plant with fronds almost as large as his torso, when bare feet sounded on the laminate tiles behind him.

  “I got you iced, squirt of chocolate, squirt of vanilla.”

  Mikaela came forward and cupped the iced caf in their hands. They got their own straw from the drain board over the kitchen counter. “I don’t think I’ve had this since the last time we saw each other
. I’m gonna make eggs. Want some?”

  “No thanks. Maybe some toast, though. I’m surprised you cook even that much.”

  They shrugged. “Can’t be a street urchin forever. Gotta work on those life skills some time.”

  “I guess you’re not wrong there.”

  Mikaela busied themself about their closet sized kitchen. Cut leaned against the counter and watched as they made the tiny space seem so much bigger in their quest for breakfast.

  Two minutes later, ingredients lay spread out on the counter in front of them, but Mikaela’s mind was clearly elsewhere. They planted their hands right on the lip, leaning heavily upon it. “OK, out with it.”

  “Beg pardon?” Cut preoccupied himself with his half empty caf cup.

  “Come on… Coming over out of the blue?? Not that I don’t appreciate the caf, but let’s not bullshit here and call this what it is.”

  Cut quibbled for a full two minutes before he caved. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to come clean; he just wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Might as well get it out of the way.

  “Are you still into the kink scene?”

  Mikaela’s brows rose. “Uh, duh…”

  “I was wondering if you could tell me a little about that.”

  Mikaela came around the counter and parked their skinny butt on one of the stools. “Kotaro Jones, don’t play with me.”

  They’d danced around this topic for years, with Mikaela encouraging Cut to broaden his horizons and him usually running the other way. Dealing with people in a more vanilla arrangement was already a minefield rife with confusion, and Cut liked his encounters as clear cut and uncomplicated as possible. What little Cut knew about that scene was through them. Mikaela had probably given up on this day ever coming.

  “It’s no joke. I’m just curious. I thought I’d ask you before I did my own search.”

  Mikaela relaxed on the stool, watching him for a second.

  “OK. Which part? It’s a big umbrella with a lot fitting under it.”