Wie es geht I
Title: Wie es geht (800 words)
Rating: PG-13 (implied sex)
Summary: Sometimes, happiness comes through a door that you didn't realize you had left it open. (John Barrymore)
A/N: for Triinu, who challenged me.
+~oOo~+
It had been a wonderful evening. Spring was just beginning, but it was already warm enough to sit in the garden of my house, where we enjoyed the peace of one of our rare free days.
You came here around noon, which was a surprise in itself - you used to stay in bed till three in the afternoon, which was more than acceptable after nights of partying, dancing, fucking around. I preferred staying at home most of the time, after coming with you a couple of times recently, and watching you get drunk and hook up with one girl - or guy - after another. Everything I could do was stare sourly into my glass of soda, entertaining myself with memories, and wait for you to return from the dark corners of the club - and hold your head when you vomited on the street afterwards.
However, when you arrived at my house that day, you didn’t seem hung over at all. In fact, you were even whistling despite the relatively early hour. Young Bela, even Dirk, was shining through you as you hugged me in greeting, almost dropping the cooler box on my toes, you cunt.
“Hi Bela”, I grinned.
The only response I got was you pushing past me, through the hallway into the kitchen. I allowed myself a dramatic sigh. “Mi casa es su casa, I see you take that proverb literally.”
“Fuck you!” came from the fridge, where you were buried in to the shoulders. “Just go heat up the grill. I brought food.” “What? Um, you do remember I’m vegetarian?”
A pack of pale sausages landed in my stomach. “That’s why I brought tofu, wanker.”
Your smile lighted up the whole kitchen. “And get dressed, for fuck’s sake. You can’t grill in shorts, it’s dangerous.”
“Oh, blow me.” I muttered, but turned obediently. I suppose you never noticed me notice your half longing, half mischievous expression.
That was some hours ago. Now, we were sitting in my backyard, watching the sun settle. The tofu and meat was just being digested, and we relaxed. I had gotten out some candles and plaids, because it was getting dark as well as chilly, and an acoustic guitar of mine.
“You even work in your free time, don’t you, Jan?” , you asked somewhat sleepily. The red wine you had drunken over the day had relaxed you.
I laughed. “You know, playing is not work. It’s still hobby.”
“You get money for it, it’s work.”
“Not now. Or pay me.”
You just stared into a candle flame, grinning. “How?”
I was confused. “What?”
“How? How would you want me to pay you?” A small giggle escaped your throat.
“Oh, fuck you, Bela.”
“Is that a promise?” I watched you lift your glass, take a small sip of the shimmering wine. Your tongue slipped out, catching the last drops of it off your lips.
After a moment, I said, slowly, “I thought we’d let this topic rest and die.”
You shrugged, turning in the chair to face me. “You regret it, hm?”
I bit my lip. Did I regret that spring night a few years ago? You had gotten drunk, I had stayed sober, and somehow, we’d ended up with you kissing me against a wall. I hadn’t resisted, and one thing had lead to the other, until we’d landed at your flat. Although you had been drunk, you still knew what you were doing, while I had been scared out of my wits at first. I have no idea how I had managed to relax, I suppose because I’d always trusted you, but you did the most amazing things to me.
I had been out of your flat before you had woken up. Actually, there had been nothing to regret. Had there?
I looked at you. The candles put your face into sharp relief, but your eyes were gleaming in the halflight. The sheer beauty of the moment made me want to reach out and simply touch you. I didn’t have the guts.
“I don’t know.” was my faint response.
You gave me the eyebrow, eyes boring into mine. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. Instead, you did. “It’s late. I’ve got to go. Sorry, Jan.”
Panic rose, I grabbed your arm. “No!”
I felt you turning around. “What ‘no’?”
“No, don’t go, please.”
The eyebrow went up again. A short silence, he was waiting. “Anything else?”
“Fuck, no! I don’t regret it! Hell, it doesn’t have to mean anything! Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you satisfied now?”
I felt your lips touching my cheekbone in a small, light kiss.
“Not exactly. But I’m sure I’ll hear the right thing when you’ve figured out how it works.”
Part II