Just a bit of fluff
Standard disclaimer applies. Rating is G.
The Train Ride
I’m not sure why I let him talk me into this nonsense.
"It’ll be fun, Reg. No one will recognize us." We’ll be regular people.” Regular people, my arse. I see those kids eyeing us with awed suspicion. I’ve decided that it’s a good thing he left the ever-present shades in his coat pocket, however surprising a decision it might have been. He’s all smiles as the train leaves the station. The organized chaos of the overhead wires impresses me briefly - just long enough to see him talking to one of the kids. It makes me smile to hear him explain “We’re playing hooky. Boy the boss would be pissed if he knew.” His accent was impeccably New York. The kid turned back to his crew, somewhat deflated, thinking he’d mistaken us for who we really are. B’s performance was quite convincing, playing an average guy in a boring job who wants to have some fun. It was brilliant, really. I’m glad I decided on a baseball cap for this little excursion.
“See Reg? Now they’ll leave us alone.” He whispered and winked at me and pulled a flask out of his coat pocket. Well, I’ll be damned. He put more thought into this little trip than I thought. I took the flask from him and took a deep drink before handing it back. Eh, it was after five somewhere in the world. The blackness of the tunnels was something I hadn’t seen in a while. The subway car shook from side to side as it travelled down the tracks. Each stop was announced by a mechanical female voice. I pondered this until I felt a pull at my arm.
“Here we go.”
We were sort of pushed out of the car by the throng of people on their way to work. I have to admit I was afraid they’d suddenly stampede. I’m not the greatest fan of crowds, when it involves me being in the middle of them. The irony of this is not lost on me. The subway station smelled like what you’d expect. I was trying to hold my breath as B was pulling me through the crowd and up the stairs. The light was welcome. So was the fresh air. Considerably calmer, I teased him. “Hey. You promised me breakfast.”
He took a deep breath, looked around him and closed his eyes. “Reg, look around you. Anything you want is yours.”
He asked me if he could “be in charge” today. This meant he wanted to indulge the crazy little leprechaun inside him without me reining him in. He still expected me to be the brains of the outfit but he wanted to dictate our day off. He is truly the devil, with that voice he has for my ears only. You’d promise him anything if you heard him. So we discussed a few ground rules. He would remain locked during this trip - a gentle reminder of who he is and what he means to me. He nodded respectfully, and didn’t say a word. Usually I have him put the cage on himself, but we needed a different dynamic for this. Days like this do not happen often, which is probably a good thing. One can only take so much of that manic energy radiating off him before one bends him over the nearest piece of furniture and fucks him senseless. Before the end of this day, he better have made plans for a hotel. It’s a good thing I have The Plaza on my speed-dial, just in case. I’d call, he’d talk, room would be obtained, and problem would be solved. And we’re back to that voice.
I shake my head as I fondle the key in my pocket. He’s chattering on about some little place in the east village for brunch. I smile at him and say “It’s your dime.” He looks back at me and for a moment, I wondered what he was thinking about. Did he know what I was doing? No, if he did, he’d change plans. Quickly.
I suggested a taxi, which he proclaimed a “brilliant idea”. Too bad the incense the cab driver had did little to mask the scent of what was surely some serious weed. Bono leaned close to the plastic and asked him if he could help a brother out. Shit.We haven’t done that in some time. I was nearing panic mode when the cab driver said “sing first, mon” Bono treated us to an acapella version of “Still Haven’t Found” which brought our driver to tears. Next thing I know, he’s shoving weed through the cash slot, and Bono rolled it up and put it in his pocket. When the cab came to a stop at the Plaza, he tossed two hundred dollars through the slot, winked at the cabbie and dragged me out of the cab.
So. This really is a change of plans. Someone’s bound to complain about the smell. He has to know that. Still, I follow him inside, still fumbling the key in my pocket. It calmed me somehow. He’s absolutely certain that I will be beside him, no matter what trouble he may cause. Of course, he sweet-talks his way out of just as much. He registered us as Paul Evans and David Hewson. Cute. The flustered girl behind the counter knew him immediately, so I flashed her a smile. She swore she would keep our reservation hush-hush. Bono kissed her hand and winked at her. She may have fainted.
Meanwhile, he had our room keys, despite how notoriously bad he was at remembering things. We got to our rooms without incident and he proudly lead us inside. Before we could get too far inside, he walked to me, causing me to walk backwards until I was against the closet door. My eyes closed of their own accord as his hands snaked up my shirt. When I could feel his breath, I opened my eyes to see his own, streaked with tears. I think my heart broke in that minute. “What’s wrong, love?”
He grabbed me tightly and whispered “Happy Anniversary, Reg.”
“You came back to me two years ago. You were able to understand it. I thank God every day for you. Reg, I love my family. You know I do. But you’re the only one that can keep me grounded. I belong to you. Body and mind.”
We both jumped at the knock on the door. Bono smiled sweetly. “Breakfast!”
The Train Ride
I’m not sure why I let him talk me into this nonsense.
"It’ll be fun, Reg. No one will recognize us." We’ll be regular people.” Regular people, my arse. I see those kids eyeing us with awed suspicion. I’ve decided that it’s a good thing he left the ever-present shades in his coat pocket, however surprising a decision it might have been. He’s all smiles as the train leaves the station. The organized chaos of the overhead wires impresses me briefly - just long enough to see him talking to one of the kids. It makes me smile to hear him explain “We’re playing hooky. Boy the boss would be pissed if he knew.” His accent was impeccably New York. The kid turned back to his crew, somewhat deflated, thinking he’d mistaken us for who we really are. B’s performance was quite convincing, playing an average guy in a boring job who wants to have some fun. It was brilliant, really. I’m glad I decided on a baseball cap for this little excursion.
“See Reg? Now they’ll leave us alone.” He whispered and winked at me and pulled a flask out of his coat pocket. Well, I’ll be damned. He put more thought into this little trip than I thought. I took the flask from him and took a deep drink before handing it back. Eh, it was after five somewhere in the world. The blackness of the tunnels was something I hadn’t seen in a while. The subway car shook from side to side as it travelled down the tracks. Each stop was announced by a mechanical female voice. I pondered this until I felt a pull at my arm.
“Here we go.”
We were sort of pushed out of the car by the throng of people on their way to work. I have to admit I was afraid they’d suddenly stampede. I’m not the greatest fan of crowds, when it involves me being in the middle of them. The irony of this is not lost on me. The subway station smelled like what you’d expect. I was trying to hold my breath as B was pulling me through the crowd and up the stairs. The light was welcome. So was the fresh air. Considerably calmer, I teased him. “Hey. You promised me breakfast.”
He took a deep breath, looked around him and closed his eyes. “Reg, look around you. Anything you want is yours.”
He asked me if he could “be in charge” today. This meant he wanted to indulge the crazy little leprechaun inside him without me reining him in. He still expected me to be the brains of the outfit but he wanted to dictate our day off. He is truly the devil, with that voice he has for my ears only. You’d promise him anything if you heard him. So we discussed a few ground rules. He would remain locked during this trip - a gentle reminder of who he is and what he means to me. He nodded respectfully, and didn’t say a word. Usually I have him put the cage on himself, but we needed a different dynamic for this. Days like this do not happen often, which is probably a good thing. One can only take so much of that manic energy radiating off him before one bends him over the nearest piece of furniture and fucks him senseless. Before the end of this day, he better have made plans for a hotel. It’s a good thing I have The Plaza on my speed-dial, just in case. I’d call, he’d talk, room would be obtained, and problem would be solved. And we’re back to that voice.
I shake my head as I fondle the key in my pocket. He’s chattering on about some little place in the east village for brunch. I smile at him and say “It’s your dime.” He looks back at me and for a moment, I wondered what he was thinking about. Did he know what I was doing? No, if he did, he’d change plans. Quickly.
I suggested a taxi, which he proclaimed a “brilliant idea”. Too bad the incense the cab driver had did little to mask the scent of what was surely some serious weed. Bono leaned close to the plastic and asked him if he could help a brother out. Shit.We haven’t done that in some time. I was nearing panic mode when the cab driver said “sing first, mon” Bono treated us to an acapella version of “Still Haven’t Found” which brought our driver to tears. Next thing I know, he’s shoving weed through the cash slot, and Bono rolled it up and put it in his pocket. When the cab came to a stop at the Plaza, he tossed two hundred dollars through the slot, winked at the cabbie and dragged me out of the cab.
So. This really is a change of plans. Someone’s bound to complain about the smell. He has to know that. Still, I follow him inside, still fumbling the key in my pocket. It calmed me somehow. He’s absolutely certain that I will be beside him, no matter what trouble he may cause. Of course, he sweet-talks his way out of just as much. He registered us as Paul Evans and David Hewson. Cute. The flustered girl behind the counter knew him immediately, so I flashed her a smile. She swore she would keep our reservation hush-hush. Bono kissed her hand and winked at her. She may have fainted.
Meanwhile, he had our room keys, despite how notoriously bad he was at remembering things. We got to our rooms without incident and he proudly lead us inside. Before we could get too far inside, he walked to me, causing me to walk backwards until I was against the closet door. My eyes closed of their own accord as his hands snaked up my shirt. When I could feel his breath, I opened my eyes to see his own, streaked with tears. I think my heart broke in that minute. “What’s wrong, love?”
He grabbed me tightly and whispered “Happy Anniversary, Reg.”
“You came back to me two years ago. You were able to understand it. I thank God every day for you. Reg, I love my family. You know I do. But you’re the only one that can keep me grounded. I belong to you. Body and mind.”
We both jumped at the knock on the door. Bono smiled sweetly. “Breakfast!”