Date: Thu, 16 Oct 2014 19:46:29 +0100
From: Secret Writer <secret_writer@outlook.com>
Subject: Cal - 10

/*****

Cal - part 10

Notes from the author:

Hi there, this is my first story for nifty - so please let me know what
you think.  It's weirdly lonely when you have no idea what anyone thinks
of your work.
You can contact me at secret_writer@outlook.com

All the usual disclaimers apply, if you shouldn't be reading this then
don't.  And if you don't like this kind of content, well really, WTF are
you doing here?

The previous episodes in this story can be found here:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/cal

And don't forget, if you enjoy this story (or even if you don't but have
found some other stuff you like) then think about supporting the site
at http://donate.nifty.org

*****/


6.30am and the alarm is waking me up.  Davey is already up, as he usually
is.  I don't know how he does it.  And today - for the first time, I have
something to get up for too.  Not that I'm starting anywhere near as
early as Davey is, but it's my first day at work, and I'm totally fucking
paranoid about being late.  I decide that I need to sort out what I'm
going to wear before I have breakfast, you know, one less thing to worry
about or leave to the last minute.  I'm slowly getting a pretty decent
range of clothes, so having to actually choose something is all new.  I'm
used to picking either what's clean, or just what's there.  As I'm
standing in front of the wardrobe taking out one thing after another
trying to find the perfect combination, I'm aware that Davey is stood in
the doorway watching me.

"You look really cute when you're concentrating."

"What?"

"You have this look, where you bite your bottom lip on one side, and sort
of glare at stuff as if it's going to be scared into doing something for
you."  I could see by his smile and hear the laughter just behind his
voice that Davey wasn't being mean.  But I'm feeling pretty stressed out
by the whole thing.

"Fuck off."  But of course he doesn't.  In fact, he does exactly the
fucking opposite and comes over to give me a hug.

"You'll be awesome baby, try not to worry.  Come on, have breakfast, or
at least coffee."

I was trying to protest, but Davey pretty much just picked me up and
carried me to the Kitchen as I half heartedly struggled to get away.

"You know I can still take the day off and come with you."  This was a
conversation we had already had several times, and I know he was just
trying to be nice, but there was no way it was going to help.  Feeling so
fucking nervous, no, not even nervous, terrified, about my first day at
work, was never going to be any better if Davey was there.  He's the one
person in the whole fucking universe that I really couldn't stand to let
down.  And yes, I know that he'd be well pissed off if he knew I thought
things like that, but I do.

We finished breakfast and Davey's car picked him up for his early
morning journey to the office, leaving me and Scarlett to get on with our
day.  We had our usual walk around the park, which seemed to take
forever.  I'm almost certain that Scarlett was deliberately walking more
slowly just to delay my leaving for work.  Yeah, OK, so I totally fucking
know that probably wasn't really her doing it.  Anyway, 9.30am arrived,
and I set off.  I'm supposed to be there for 10.00, and it will only take
me about 20 minutes to walk, so plenty of time.  But what if I've got it
wrong?  Maybe Becky said 9.30 start?  Fuck - there's me worrying about
which fucking shirt to wear and I've made myself late on my first day!
Fuck fuck fuck.  No, wait a minute, she definitely said 10.00.  I'm sure
I remember it.  Jeez, calm the fuck down Cal, it's cool, it's just a
job.  And stop swearing.  It's all good, I can do this.  Be nice.
Smile.  Don't swear.  Don't be stupid.  Don't fuck up.  Thankfully, at
least I think it's a good thing, I was so preoccupied talking to myself
on the way there that I didn't really have the chance to worry about it
too much.

I walked in and immediately saw Becky behind the bar.  She smiled at me
as she walked over.

"Good morning Cal.  We'll get started in just a few minutes, but Frank
said he wanted a word with you when you arrived, he's in his office."

I knew where his office was from my interview, so I headed straight over
and knocked on the door.  He answers almost immediately, and seems
pleased to see me.

"Come in Cal, come in, have a seat.  It's great to see you this morning,
how are you feeling about your first day?"

"Hi, yeah, I'm pleased to be here, thanks."

"And no bruises I see, excellent."

"Errrr, what?"  And I mean, like, what the fuck?

"No bruises, on your face.  I saw what happened at Coach House Yard and
was worried about you.  But you look like you've come out of it OK."

FUCK.  Coach House Yard, as if you need me to clarify, is that expensive
bar that Davey likes so much, where Mark tried to kill me.  OK, so maybe
that's a slight exaggeration, but only fucking slightly.  I guess my
panic was probably obvious, and I certainly didn't speak for several
seconds too long.  Just my fucking luck, there was only a few other
people there that night, and my new boss just had to be one of them
didn't he.

"It's OK Cal, I saw what happened, that's all.  I really just wanted to
see if you were OK."

"I can explain..."  I started.  Although even as I said the words I
wasn't convinced it was a good idea.

"No need, I saw for myself.  Now go and find Becky, I'm sure she has your
whole day planned and I'm just interfering."

What a weird guy.  I mean, it's nice he's concerned, perhaps a little too
concerned with how I look, but I can deal with that.  But why didn't he
ask me?  Why isn't he worried that I'm going to fighting in his bar?  I
didn't get any further with my questions to myself though, as
Becky appeared almost as soon as I got out of Frank's office.

"Great, so, I'll start by giving you the tour of the hotel and bar, so
that you'll have a better idea of where people and places are.  And then
we'll go through how the bar runs.  It's all quite easy really.  For the
first couple of weeks you'll be working with me, and after that you will
be covering the quieter shifts on your own.  But don't worry, you'll be
great."

Well at least someone is feeling confident!  Actually it was all pretty
easy to take in.  The hotel is small, only 25 rooms, but they are all
*really* nice, big beds, nice furniture, fuck off
huge en-suites, and windows looking over the city.  There were a few
people who worked in the hotel section that I was introduced to, and
without fail they were all super fucking nice, and I did my best to make
a good first impression.  On the way around, Becky was filling me in on
the kinds of customers they get.  I'd seen enough to work out that it
wasn't going to be a cheap place to stay, but Becky explained how they
get a lot of "well known" people staying there as it's small, and  little
out of the way.  The England cricket team, singers and actors all seem to
be fairly frequent guests.  Other than that, it tends to be relatively
rich people and wedding parties.  And I need to know this because?
Because they will all be in the bar, being served by me.  Yes, of course
they will.  The basic principles were easy enough to understand.  Every
guest should feel like they are special.  Either because they are, or
because they're paying enough to do so.  As an employee, I'm expected to
do anything I can to ensure this is the case, as long as I stick to the
rules.  The Rules.

"Everyone is special to us, and they should feel special whenever you
deal with them.  But there are limits."  Becky outlined The Rules for
me.

"There are some obvious things that we do not ever do.  No sex with
guests, you will  get offers.  Particularly from drunk mothers of the
bride.  And nothing illegal.  We will endeavor to source or supply pretty
much anything, but no prostitutes or drugs.  Other than that, they get
whatever they want and can pay for."

"OK, don't sleep with the mother of the bride - I can probably manage
that."

I guess she didn?t quite get the context of how funny that was.  But I got
her point.  She finished showing me around the bar, you know, where
everything is kept, before making us coffee.

"So any questions so far?"  she asked.

"No, I don?t think so.  It's all making sense."

"Great.  I know it can all sound a bit serious when you first start.  But
it's a really great place to work.  Most of the people staying here, even
the famous ones, are really nice."

The rest of my shift was going to be spent with Becky, working in the
bar.  There was a slow but steady stream of people passing through, so
plenty of time for her to go through the process with me before I started
serving people myself.  It was all going well, and I really liked her, we
seemed to get on really quickly.  She was giving me some background on
the 'regulars' as and when they appeared, and was surprisingly bitchy
about them.  Of course, they had no idea.  I know she's like my manager
and stuff, but we it felt like we were almost like new friends.

Frank appeared after the lunchtime rush to see how things were going.
There was no attempt from either of them to move away as he was asking
Becky about how I was getting on, but they both seemed pleased.  Not long
after that, there was a definite afternoon lull.  For a while there,
there was no-one at all in the bar, and I was just chatting with Becky.

"So go on then, tell me about yourself Cal.  I feel like I've been
talking all morning."

"Well you have, but there's not much to tell you about me.  Besides, you
seem pretty good at working out your guests, there's no way you haven't
formed your own opinion about me."

"OK then.  Living with your girlfriend, who's probably a bit needy.  You
met her at Uni where she was doing Fine Arts and you were doing Graphic
Design.  No kids, and not earning enough from doing what you love, so
you've had to get a 'proper' job to pay the bills.  She's probably 'about
to make a breakthrough' so you had to get the job.  How did I do?"

I couldn't stop my self from laughing so hard I could barely stand up.

"What?  It wasn't Fine Art was it.  Textiles maybe?"

"Stop, please, you're killing me.  On a scale of 1 to 10, where ten is
spot on perfect, you scored zero."

"No way, seriously?  I'm never that wrong.  Really?"

"OK, so maybe you got one point."

"Damn!  So you're single?"

"No."

"Oh, so married.  Mmm, I didn?t get that."

"Seriously Becky, you' actually think you're good at this?"  She was
laughing nearly as much as I was.

" I *am*.  Well usually."

"You are *so* bad at this.  Not married."

"What!?"

"I'm not married."

"But you can't be not single, no girlfriend, AND not married?"

"Of course I can.  Wow, I thought you were better than this Becky, I'm
very disappointed."

She was looking very confused, but a customer walked in so we had to
start behaving more normally.  I served him, and when I returned from
taking his bottle of lager over to him, Becky was still looking
confused.  We had to be much more discreet as there was now people in the
bar, but I had to put her out of her misery and continued our
conversation quietly.

"Gay, boyfriend who is rich enough so I don't have to work, didn't go
to Uni, but no kids, so you did get that right."

I stepped away and served someone else, leaving her with a look of having
about a million questions but also being slightly embarrassed.  I was
immediately regretting what I said.  Not in general, but the bit about
Davey being rich enough that I didn't have to work, it sounded like I was
boasting or something and that's not how it feels.  More people were
coming in now though, and we didn't get much chance to finish the
conversation.  Although I did make an effort to make sure she knew that
she hadn't offended or upset me.  I actually thought it was kind of cool
that she thought I might be straight.  I was finishing at 6.00pm, and at
5.58pm in walked Davey.  I really wasn't expecting to see him
until later, and I could feel myself smiling.

"Now I *know* I'm right about this one, no prize for guessing who that
is."  I just smiled at Becky, confirming her thoughts.

"Hey baby, how's it going?"  Ohhhh, his voice, still gets inside me
somehow.

"All good, I'm about to finish.  Davey, this is Becky, my manager, thanks
for outing me to her."

"What?  Oh god, I'm sorry, I just..."  If it was up to me I'd have let
him squirm a bit longer, but Becky is probably a nicer person that I am,
so she clarified quickly.

"Don't worry, you didn't.  He's got a mean sense of humour."

"Yeah, he has.  But he's also got a really big..."  I interrupted him
just in time.

"OK then, I'm off.  See you tomorrow Becky."  I did my best to push Davey
out of the door, laughing and punching him on the arm as we went.

"What?  What did I do?"  he protested.

"You know what you fucker! Don't embarrass me like that!"

"I was just going to say, you've got a really big heart and you're a
lovely guy."

"You so fucking were not!"

"Well you'll never know now will you."  I was going to protest, but he
kissed me and I shut up.

"What are you so happy about anyway?"  I asked.

"Actually, just seeing you.  I watched you for a few minutes before I
came in, you looked really happy, and that makes me really happy.  Come
on, let's go home."

"Yeah, that's sweet, but it's Wednesday, what about your class?"

"It's OK, I've asked Jarrod to cover for me, he's my assistant so it's
all sorted."

Davey had his car waiting for us, so we got home real quick.  We were
cuddling on the sofa as I told him about my first day at work, but
apparently I fell asleep there as he was waking me up half an hour later,
asking me what I wanted for dinner.  Not feeling very bothered, we
settled on pasta, sauce, and garlic bread, with a glass of wine to
celebrate.  I felt very fucking grown up.  Davey was asking me all
about my day, what I'd been doing, and all about the hotel.  He seemed
genuinely interested, which I suppose he was, it's just an odd experience
for me.  I was still feeling tired - I suppose I really have never done
an 'honest' days work in my life before, ha ha ha.  I went to bed fairly
early, and it wasn't long before Davey was pulling me against his warm
furry body, cuddling me as I drifted back to sleep.  He is, without any
doubt at all, the sexiest man in the universe, and he makes me so
incredibly horny it unbelievable.  But sometimes, what I really want, is
to be held by him, against him, warm, safe, quiet, it's totally fucking
awesome.

A couple of weeks went by, and we were getting in to some sort of
routine.  It was strange at first, but I've come to like the idea that I
know pretty much what I'll be doing in the next week or so.  At first, it
freaked me out, like *really* freaked me out.  I didn't deal too well
with the idea that my life - even just the next few days of it - was
being planned out.  I mean, it's still not very long ago that I didn't
have to think about the next 10 minutes, never mind the next two weeks.
There had been no further contact from the Police, but I knew better than
to assume that meant anything fucking good.  Davey barely mentioned it, I
think he maybe tries to not talk about it so that I don't worry about it
too much.  But the truth is, I'm really fucking worried about it.  Just
because Mark is a twat doesn't mean that I'll come out of this OK.

Since "The Incident", as I now call it in my own head, we haven't really
seen anything of Kati and Simon, and obviously not Mark either.  I wasn't
particularly bothered, but they are Davey's friends, and I was very aware
that he might be keeping some distance, and it felt like it was partially
my fault.  It was Friday, and I was going to be working in the afternoon
and evening, so I thought it could be a good time for Davey to catch up
with Kati and Simon.  I mentioned it over breakfast, and Davey said he'd
see if they were around.  As it usually did, breakfast passed quickly,
and Davey was heading to work leaving me and Scarlett at home, waving him
off.  Sometimes I hold Scarlett up and make her wave her paw at him.  She
just looks at me as if to say 'you fucking know that I don't like that -
do I have to remind you that I can eat your face?'.  She's so cute
though.  Yeah, never thought I'd be saying that about the killing machine
from hell.  The day drifted by, Jen was in as usual, and we were drinking
coffee and talking about fuck knows what when the doorbell rings.

It was one of those moments where you just *know* what is going to
happen.  Who knows how or why, but before she had opened the door, before
I'd heard the polite but firm tone, I was on high alert.  And I wasn't
alone - Scarlett was wide awake and stood by my side.  If you listened
not too hard, you could hear a very low growl.  Jen hovered by the door
as the Police Officer came in to the Kitchen where we had been sitting.
Fuck.  Not now, not like this.  Why can't I just get a break!?  And why
isn't Davey here.  I know he can't stop them arresting me, but I just
want him here.  Please.  And fuck him and his good intentions, we should
have talked about this more.  I should have talked about it.  How the
fuck can I expect him to hang around and wait for a fuck up like me to
come out of prison - again.

"Mr Richardson?"

"Yes."  Like you don't already fucking know that.

"I've come about the alleged assault....."

I know he was still talking, but I couldn't hear it.  Maybe just
wouldn't.  It would be an exaggeration to say that my life flashed before
my eyes, but I was definitely going over the last few weeks, wondering
just how I ever fucking imagined that this would all work out good for
me.  And would have happened?  If Davey hadn't found me that night?  Or
if he just called an ambulance and left me there in the street?  Or if I
hadn't searched half the fucking city to find him again for no reason I
could explain?  Or if he finally got bored of my mood swings and massive
insecurities?  Or if he realised that he doesn't really need some fucked
up kid in his life, getting in the way and causing all kinds of shit.  I
have no idea how long this went on for, it felt like just a couple of
seconds, but I guess it was probably longer.  It felt like I just
appeared in the middle of chaos.  Like someone had seen what was about to
happen and pressed the pause button, fast forwarded a bit without
me realising, and set me off on play again.  Jen was saying my name, and
the Police guy was asking me if I was OK.  I looked up at him, and was
going to say something, although I don't know what, when he stepped
towards me.  I panicked, and Scarlett stood up and barked.  Like proper
full on, you know I could eat you,  barking,  not her usual playful
sounds.  I think that this must have brought me back to reality, and I
jumped up, ready to do something, although who the fuck knows what.  The
Police guy was backing away now, and I realised that something wasn't
right.  He was on his own.  There's no way he would come to arrest me on
his own, and if there was another one in the hall, he would be in here by
now.

"Scarlett!  Sit!"  I had to shout at her, and thank fuck she listened to
me.  There was suddenly a very deafening silence.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"  I asked.

"The assault, there's no further action, no evidence to support the
charge.  Actually, I wanted to know if you wanted to press charges
yourself?"

"What?"

"I've reviewed the CCTV, and spoken with a couple of witnesses.  It seems
that you were actually the person being assaulted, and there's probably
enough for it to go to court."

I'd be a total fucking liar if the image of Mark getting done for it
flashing through my head didn't seem appealing.  But I also didn't really
fancy getting tied up in the legal process again, no matter which fucking
'side' I was on.

"No, it's OK, I don't think so.  But thanks for letting me know."

And that was it, he left.  Wow.  So much fucking drama and it all ends in
such a small way.  I wasn't really sure how I was feeling.  Excited,
elated, happy, relieved, tired - very tired.  All of those things, and
more.  I called Davey straight away, but he wasn't answering.  I tried
Vicky at Reception, but she said he was in a meeting.  I didn't want to
interrupt his work, so I left him a voicemail.  By the time I had calmed
down, it was time to get ready for work.  I felt kind of bad, because I
couldn't really talk to Jen about the whole thing, I don't know why
though.  Walking to work seemed like it took just a few minutes, but
then, my whole world was feeling lighter, brighter, happier, who the fuck
knows what else, just better.

"Hi Cal - you look happy, what's up?"

"Hey Becky - I'm feeling awesome today - Totally (and I silently mouthed
the word) Fucking Awesome."

It was still a Friday - no amount of positive feelings could change that,
so it was fairly busy in the bar.  Usually there would be another girl
helping us out, but she was off for some reason  - always a bit flaky -
so me and Becky were pretty full on busy.  But my good mood seemed
infectious, and it was a really good night.  The hotel guests and bar
customers were all friendly, everything was good.  I like those moments.
6.00pm arrived in no time, and that's usually the start of our busiest
period, with all of the office people coming in after work, starting
their weekend.  Usually it's table service in the bar, but there was a
crowd of people standing at the bar as well, so I'd been stood there for
a while getting through their orders and Becky was off dealing with the
tables.  I'd just handed some guy his change and was looking up to see
who was waiting.  Shouting across the bar I hear her.

"I think you'll find that I'm next."

Bloody Kati - I'd recognise her raspy bitchy shrillness anywhere.  But
looking over I was very pleasantly surprised to see her with Simon and
Davey, and his brother Ben was with them too.  Leaning over the bar I
whispered to Davey that I wasn't allowed to do to him what I wanted to in
a pubic bar, but he looked nearly as happy as I felt.  In fact, they all
did.

"So, seriously - who do you have to sleep with to get drinks around
here?"

"That would be me."  I replied, smiling.

They ordered cocktails, which I imagine they thought was going to be the
most complicated things, but actually I'm getting pretty good at making
the small selection we sell so we were able to chat to them as I made
them.  I flamed the orange oils for a bit of showing off.  Personally,
I've not yet been able to taste the difference, but apparently it tastes
better, and it looks pretty cool.  No harm in a bit of cocktail making
bling.  Things got quiet by 10.30pm, and although we were still open
until midnight, Becky was cool with me finishing early so I could spend
some time with Davey.  And with the others as well, but mostly with
Davey.

I didn't really know what to expect, but they all seemed to be back to
normal, and Kati and Simon were totally cool with me, so I guess everyone
has moved past whatever happened with me and Mark.  I know it would have
been OK for us to stay on drinking late in the bar, but that wasn't
really top of my list.  I guess I hadn't realised just how fucking
stressed I had been getting over the last couple of weeks, and today it
was all gone, so I'm feeling pretty fucking magic.  And don't
misunderstand, it's hardly like Davey and me hadn't been getting it on,
but I know that I'd been a bit distant.  So yeah, I'd rather go home to
get fucked by Davey than sit around here for another hour or two.  Which
is what happened.  The getting fucked that is, not the sitting and
talking.  Davey seemed a little surprised by my return to form, but he
wasn't fucking complaining as I did everything I could imagine to take
him to fucking-his-boyfriend heaven.

As we were laying in bed I knew that I still had something on my mind,
and I needed to ask Davey about it.

"So Davey, what's the deal with Mark?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you were all pretty good friends until a couple of weeks ago.  I
don't really want to ever see him again, but you've been friends for
years."

"Yeah, well, maybe it's time I got some new friends. "

"But I don't want to be responsible for you not being friends, and then
you ending up resenting me for it."  And it was true, I guess that was
really what I was worrying about.  Davey propped himself up on one arm so
that he could look at me properly.

"Cal, baby, there is no way that I want anything to do with him any more.
 The way he treated you was so terrible,  whatever I thought our
friendship was before, I was clearly wrong.  He has no place in my life,
in our life."

"And the others?  What about Kati and Simon?"

"Well, I don't know about them.  I don't think Simon will be staying in
contact with him, but Kati, well, she's been friends with Mark since
school.  But she's totally clear about how I feel, so I think we'll be
OK.  We're all grown ups."