Tuesday 15 June 2021

Wastrels, minstrels and the objects of their affection.

I am tired. Maybe here's part one?

***

God. My favourite thing in the world is when the Devil gets drunk and gets tender. It's better than Christmas and Burning Man and a good line of cocaine all rolled into one hot stumbling machine of a man and it's so rare these days. Not sure what to make of it. Especially on a rainy Monday evening in June. 

Lochlan and I are playing in the pool. The rain is pouring down on the roof. It's loud but we have music on and are swimming away from and then back toward each other. He takes me into his arms and treads water easily, and I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, weightless in the deep end.  I always end up clinging to him in the pool if he is there. The deep end is extra-deep, the bottom of the pool is dark blue and it feels bottomless and scary without him to hold on to. He uses one hand to tread and keeps one arm around me tightly and is moved to pull me in hard against him for a long chlorine-soaked kiss. 

One hand slides off the arm of the chaise nearest us. The Devil is paying attention, his eyes flashing caustics from the surface of the pool. He straightens up, puts his glass down on the table next to him and leans forward, elbows on knees, fist in palm. 

Do you both even realize how beautiful you are together? 

I nod and kiss the tip of Lochlan's nose. We are fire.

You are! Between the striking colouring and the tension, I can't even take..my eyes from you. 

So watch, then. Lochlan still hasn't looked at Caleb.

I'd like to, with your permission. 

There's the cost of admission-

Name a price and I'll cover it.

Can't buy this kind of love, Diabhal. Lochlan says with a laugh. Thought you learned that lesson.

I'm only asking for a night of..inclusion.

You can't afford it.

I can offer a generous sum. Don't be a fool, Locket.

Oh, I'm not. Maybe a joker but never a fool. Not anymore. He pulls me up, hands locked around my shoulders and drowns me in a kiss that sends us both under the surface. 

When we come back up for air, Caleb is gone but there's a post-it on his chair. Lochlan pushes me up the ladder and I grab our towels while he bends to get the post-it. He reads it and shakes his head to get the water out of his hair. It springs up into crazy long curls and his mouth curls up on one side. 

Well, at least he knows the value of a private show. He shows me the paper. 

My eyebrows go up. VIP. Lochlan nods without a word. We should probably go get ready.