Don’t put a gorilla in a suit. It irritates the gorilla and ruins the suit.
(Part 1)
Bomber let Lorenco tie the bow. “If the Horsemen ever saw me like this…”
Lorenco chuckled. “I think they’d be impressed.”
Bomber scoffed, “They’d call me queer and take me out in the back and beat the shit outta me.”
“You don’t look queer, not at all.” Lorenco stood back and assessed the man before him. His broad shoulders easily filled out the black tux. From the black bow tie to the crisp white shirt with black buttons, to the vest that threatened to split due to the broadness of his chest, to the tight pants and shoes instead of his normal motorcycle boots, the man looked so sexy that Lorenco wanted to tear both of their tuxes off and roll around in the bed.
Bomber thought Lorenco was handsome also, but he wasn’t as turned on as Lorenco. Bomber could smell his phernomes, though, and stepped forward to pull him in his arms. “Want to skip this whole thing?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Good,” he started unbuttoning his vest.
“Eh eh,” Lorenco said, slapping his hand away from the vest. Bomber pouted. Lorenco laughed at the look he gave him, and then stood on tiptoes to kiss him. “C’mon, the car’s waiting.”
They could not arrive at the opera on Bomber’s bike, so Lorenco had to rent a car. It was a beautiful black Lexus that made even Bomber take a second look. He climbed behind the wheel – it had been a good five years since he drove a car, but it came back to him easily.
The opera house was in Founders’ Falls, a ritzy section of Paragon. He pulled in front of the place; it looked like an old-fashioned movie theater, with lights and a marquee.
Kindred were scattered among the mortals, he assumed, though he wasn’t close enough to scent them. They looked like everyone else, and would act like everyone else. However, Lorenco would be able to tell even at this distance. Bomber assumed this was an Elysium, that there would be no fights.
Lorenco put a hand on Bomber’s arm to draw his attention, probably the only expression of their relationship. Bomber followed as Lorenco passed in their tickets.
“What’s this about?” he asked.
“Anne Bolyn.”
Bomber almost pulled a smack on his forehead; of course, Anna Bolena was similar. He forced himself to remember breathing. Lorenco picked up two glasses of sparkling wine that were going around and gave one to Bomber. “Remember what I told you,” he said quietly.
Bomber nodded. He had fed well before getting dressed up in the monkey suit, so he knew his stomach could handle the little bit of wine he would be having. Lorenco said there was usually some offerings in the intermission and at the end, where sometimes the cast would come out and mingle with the crowd. He didn’t know if he would be able to explain not eating then.
He sipped the wine, looking out among the crowd. He badly wanted to have a back against the wall, feeling exposed out in the crowd like this. Lorenco touched his arm again. “The blond man four-deep,” he said quietly.
Bomber counted four groups of people and his eyes lit on a blond man with eyes of an unnatural and unchanging blue – contacts. Bomber nodded once knowing that he received the message: The man was smaller, slight, and no where near Bomber’s size. He was Kindred.
The lights flickered, and people started putting their wines down on empty trays, and filing to the entrance to the theater proper. Lorenco allowed the usher to guide them to their seat, sort of in the middle of the theater. People sat on either side of them. Lorenco moved up the armrest, as he would be leaning close to Bomber, translating as they went along. The lights dimmed, and the first person came out.
Bomber was impressed that they weren’t using microphones, that all their voices literally filled the theater. Lorenco put a hand on Bomber’s leg and leaned in, speaking in low tones as to not disturb the people around them.
Eventually Lorenco’s arm went around his shoulder, and Bomber put his hand on top of Lorenco’s, holding it gently. Lorenco’s hand travelled up his leg, getting dangerously close to his package. Bomber looked sideways at Lorenco, and smiled. He let his hand rest on his own thigh, while Lorenco continued.
Just a few minutes after he busied himself making Bomber’s pants tighten even more, the lights came up. Bomber hissed, “You son of a bitch,” at Lorenco, who chuckled deeply. They both stayed seated for a minute while they calmed down.
They finally got up when the people next to Lorenco looked irritated. Bomber gave them a “shut the fuck up” look, and they backed down.
Lorenco again put a hand Bomber’s arm. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What?”
“Looked at them like that. Now they’re going to be scared of you.”
“Good,” he said.
Lorenco held him back from going outside. “Wait, calm down.” Bomber closed his eyes, took a few forced breaths, then nodded to Lorenco. They went out into the crowd.
They again grabbed wine, and Lorenco picked up some appetizers that made Bomber look away. Bomber drank the wine and looked out into the crowd. He watched as a stunningly beautiful woman came through the crowd, heading right toward him. Her dark blue gown was so low cut as to be almost indecent, her raven-dark hair long and flowing like an inky river.
Bomber raised an eyebrow as she stood a couple of feet in front of him, enticing as a siren. Bomber found himself gulping, because damn, she was hot. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, even though he knew Lorenco stood close to him.
She smiled, her black eyes glistening. “Hello. I am Victoria Romero.” She offered her hand, palm down. Bomber realized he was supposed to let it drape over his own hand.
He took it and kissed it lightly. “Bruce Michaelaine.” He forced himself to tear his eyes away from hers. He spared a glance to Lorenco. He was staring at her too, also entranced. “This is Lorenco Castillo.”
The spell momentarily broken as she focused her radiant gaze on Lorenco, Bomber looked right at her, and something struck him as wrong. Her breathing was too rhythmical, not hitching at all. Kindred. Probably Toreador.
Lorenco turned on his own Castillian charm, but it was nothing compared to hers. She focused on him again. “You are new here,” she said, sipping her wine, and looking at him over the rim of the glass.
“Yes, we both are,” he said, forcing himself to remember Lorenco right next to him.
“Mmmm hmmm, have you seen the sights of our fair city?”
“No, I – we haven’t.”
She glanced for a moment at Lorenco, and he thought he saw a look of disgust cross her features before they straightened back to a beautiful rose. Lorenco probably caught it too.
“Maybe after this, I could take you to the Perenial Gardens.”
“I’m sure we’d both love to go,” he said, driving the point.
She looked at Lorenco. “Do you need to bring a babysitter?”
“To keep me honest,” Bomber replied, feeling Lorenco bristle.
“Why must you be honest?” she said coyly. Damn, why should he?
Lorenco stepped in front of him and close enough so that it would be apparent to her and to the rest of the room what their relationship was, and this drew Bomber’s own attention back to him. “We go together or not at all,” Lorenco said quietly.
“Is he your spokesperson, too?”
In for a penny… He put his hand on Lorenco’s shoulder.
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I never would have thought a big handsome man would enjoy the company of other…men.” She said it loud enough so that people in the immediate vicinity could easily hear her. He saw the stares, and his own hackles went up. He felt something radiate out of him, and he’d be damned if anyone wanted to screw with him.
Eyes went down, heads turned away; even the woman couldn’t look him in the face. Lorenco said in a forced strong voice, “If you’ll excuse us, Ms. Romano,” and started walking away. Bomber followed. People parted like the Red Sea before him, looking at him for a moment before casting their eyes down. He focused on Lorenco’s back, and tried not to think of what that woman was trying to pull.
By the time they placed their glasses on trays, heading a few minutes early into the theater, Bomber had calmed down so that people could pass by him without moving away. Lorenco was gripping the chair in the back row, taking a few deep breaths.
“I’m sorry,” Bomber said quietly. “She pissed me off.”
He only nodded. Bomber stood close to him and would have hugged him if they weren’t in public. “You need to calm down, Bruce.”
“I can’t help it sometimes.”
Lorenco turned to him and smiled at him. “I know. You’re a p–”
“Puppy growing into his paws,” Bomber completed with a smile. “C’mon, let’s go back to our seats, and you can tell me what the hell’s going on since you distracted me.”
“I distracted you? You always distract me.”
Bomber laughed as they headed back to the middle of the theater.
Words: 1585
Inspiration: Lorenco teasingly mentioning going to the opera to Bomber.
Music: Arise – e s Posthumus
Awaiting approval from Lorenco’s player before posting on Warwriter.