Knight straightened out his tie as he looked in the mirror. He had packed two suits, one for himself and one for Mal to be used for tonight’s Captain’s Table dinner.
Mal looked impeccable as usual. It was their fifth night on the boat, and the two of them had, as Scott had put it, performed acrobatic sex acts throughout the suite and on the veranda for about three of those days and nights. The cold air didn’t bother Knight at all, and it invigorated Mal, as he had expected.
Knight and Mal explored the boat and the casino that was open 24 hours a day; Mal and Knight swam often in the heated swimming pool on deck. Mal had made friends with Paul and other concierges for the Pinnacle suite and the Neptune Lounge. Knight, as usual, just backed up his man.
He turned to look at Mal, who was smiling. “Ready, love?” he asked.
“Always,” Mal said, and the two left the room. Paul walked by them, carrying towels to the other room. He smiled at them. Mal put his hand at the middle of Knight’s lower back as they walked down the hall.
In the elevator, his hand snuck lower, and Knight slowly grinned. “Mal, I’m tryin’ t’ be good an’ not rip your clothes off.”
Mal just gave him an innocent look and his hand cupped Knight’s ass under the fabric. Knight stood rooted as the doors opened and a small group of people in fancy dress came on. “Evening,” said Mal with a smile, and Knight gave them a nod, while Mal squeezed Knight’s ass.
Knight backed up against the door of the elevator, pinning Mal’s hand there. Mal pet and squeezed the flesh he held, while Knight stood impassive. The doors opened, and Mal removed his hand, again placing it on Knight’s lower back as they both stepped out of the elevator.
They had seen the casino at night, but not the dining room. They followed the elegant people to the right and saw the dining room – three tiers of service. Knight gasped, while Mal just smiled.
“Captain’s table is upstairs,” said Mal, again guiding Knight to the stairs. Knight went forward, up the stairs to the top row, and then around some of the tables where people were already seated. They found their table, overlooking the main dining area. Four couples had been seated. Knight picked a chair, and held it open for Mal.
The couples glanced their way, and smiled, saying Good evening. Mal greeted them. “I’m Malcolm King, and this is my husband Leonard King.”
Knight nodded, murmured a “good evening” and sat down next to Mal.
Said one woman, “Oh, you’re married?”
“Yes.”
“That’s so wonderful. Is this your honeymoon?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.” Mal moved his hand to take Knight’s, after Knight undid his napkin and placed it on his lap.
“I’m Laurie Saunders, and this is my husband Tom.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Another couple arrived, and sat next to Knight. “We thought we were late,” said the small dark-skinned man, holding open a chair for a stunningly beautiful blond. He noticed Knight and Mal. “You are in the Pinnacle Suite, aren’t you?”
“You’re often in the Neptune Lounge,” said Mal. “I’m Malcolm King and this is my husband Leonard.”
“It’s good to finally meet you.” The man shook hands with Knight firmly. “I’m Greg Shalot, and this is my lovely escort Christina.”
Knight took the woman’s offered hand and turned it, kissing the air above her knuckles. She giggled and blushed. Greg watched Knight. “No date stealing.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Knight said, and raised his left hand, entwined with Mal’s.
“Red or white wine, sir?” asked the waiter, suddenly hovering over Knight.
“Red,” Knight said.
As soon as Greg gave his order, the captain appeared. “Sorry I am late,” he said, nodding to them all. “Just some last minute orders.” He sat down across from one of the other couples, diagonally across from Mal. “I am Captain Robrecht Van Veenan. It is a pleasure to meet you all.” He turned to his right.
They all introduced themselves, Mal on his own, and Knight on his own. The captain looked curiously at them for a moment before moving on to Greg.
Mal was the perfect conversationalist, involving everyone in his discussion, asking what they did, expressing interest. “And what do you do, Mr. King?”
Knight was looking over the menu, trying to decide between the pork loins in mushroom sauce and and the New York Strip beef when Mal ribbed him. Greg was looking at Knight, when he had asked the question.
“Oh, sorry,” Knight said. “I gotta get used to that.”
Greg chuckled, “I suppose you will. What do you answer to?”
“Knight.”
“Knight King?”
“No, just Knight.”
Asked Laurie, “Why Knight?”
“Because I played at being one in the SCA. The Society for Creative Anachronism.” There were still blank looks so he explained, “A Medieval re-enactment group.”
“Like Ren Faires?”
Said Mal, “A little more involved.”
The waiter came around and picked up the orders, and the conversation continued with Greg asking, “Well, Knight, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a cook in a pub.”
Greg seemed to be watiting. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Mal said, “Tell him some of the things you make.”
“Oh, I make real shepherd’s pie, fried chicken, Philly cheese steak sandwiches -”
“What is real shepherd’s pie?” asked Greg.
“It’s got lamb and cheese in it and not a hint of peas.”
“It’s really very good,” said Mal.
Greg was taking an interest in Knight, asking him where they lived, what things they did. Mal kept coming to Knight’s rescue, and sometimes even the Captain did as well.
Dinner was superb, and they sat listening to the Captain tell some of the stories of his days as a Merchant Marine. Knight excused himself and went to find the washroom.
“Hey, wait up,” said Greg, suddenly following and then falling into step with him.
“What’s the matter?” asked Knight.
“Nothing, I just want to talk to you.”
“You been doin’ tha’ all night,” Knight said, slipping out of his formal accent.
“I know, I know. Listen.” He took Knight’s arm and pulled him aside. “I know this is going to sound weird.”
“Try me,” Knight said flatly.
“I said that I’m a photographer. Well, I’d like to do some work with you. And your husband.”
“Together?”
“If you want. Your husband, I can tell, wouldn’t mind. It’s you that I’d really like to get some pictures of.”
“Like model?”
“Yes.”
“I…I never done tha’ b’fore.”
“I know,” said Greg, smiling, “That’s why I’m asking you now.”
“Is this, like, naked pictures?”
“Yes.”
Knight looked up at the ceiling. Mal would jump at the chance. “I’d have t’ think about it.”
“Oh, of course. And talk it over with hubby. I’m sure he’d like to try it too.” Greg patted Knight’s bicep and headed back into the dining room.