The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.

[iago_excolo]

[Monday, April 5 (day 309)]
[Early evening - Tavern of Hell]

I've been steadily packing since a bit after I got to work and I'd say I was tired but my recent three-day nap says otherwise.   A few more days like this one and all the boxes should be ready to go to their respective locations.   It feels like an ending and as angry as I am at Dorian, I

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[iago_excolo]

I chuckle when he mentions the long nap and I say, "Yes, that nap wasn't like anything I've ever experienced before," and I shrug before adding, "But that's Excolo for you. Never a dull moment around here and not for lack of trying either." He mentions the wedding and I give him a sly grin. "Yes, I saw you there as well and surrounded by no less than two sexy women. Would it be fair to assume that you had a good time?"

"Well enough, I guess. How’re you and Glass?"

He's not aware of my recent marital troubles and I'm not the type to pour my heart out in a public place to a near-stranger but I like him and he's a bartender as well. This likely isn't new to him. After all, how many times have I been on the listening end of a sad tale? I'd sigh but I'm not doing that today. Ah well, nothing's free but I'd be willing to make an exchange of sorts.

He's eating his cookie and I'm nonchalant as I say, "I'd heard there was a loud discussion in the street the other night." I take a drag and continue in a concerned tone, "The descriptions matched yourself and Lucien. Are you certain all is well?"

I consider his question about Milady Glass and lie as I add pleasantly, "We're doing well." I'm more truthful as I say, "All relationships take work and I while I understand that, sometimes I'm not certain of the proper thing to do." I pour myself another double and slide the bottle in his direction as I say, "Should you want something a little stronger, feel free to help yourself." There's another round of smoke rings and I grin at him. "Can't say I blame the ladies," Or Lucien for that matter and I arch an eyebrow as I continue to grin. "You're quite attractive and that'll surely keep your bed warm around here."

[jaeresteade]

I give him a grin when he mentions seeing me with Verdi and Ri. I haven’t drunk enough to tell him how lucky they made me feel yesterday, two drop-dead gorgeous, witty women paying attention to me. I help myself to a cookie, eating it slowly. It’s good, with raisins and some kind of spice. I don’t have sweets very often.

My grin doesn’t last long as he says he did hear something in the street last night. Were we that loud? I think over what both of us were spitting at each other. “Shit.” I rub a hand over my face, not looking at him. “No, not very much is well between me and the good doctor.”

He goes on, I guess trying to comfort me or something. I wouldn’t call what Lucien and I had any kind of a relationship. I’d thought we were getting to be friends, and then last night…happened. Shake my head to the offer of the bottle. “No thanks. I try not to drink whiskey.” Although that is the good stuff. “I’ll take a cigarette if you can spare one, though.”

He leans in his chair, looking at me and blowing smoke rings, probably knowing exactly how sexy he looks doing it, too. And then he opens his mouth and starts telling me he thinks I’m good looking, grinning all the while. “You flirting with me, Iago?” It’s an honest question, not a tease. If he’s being open about things, I’m going to be too. My first instinct is to want him to stop, but it feels…good. For all he’s married to my landlady, for all we’re in public, hell, for all he works for the competition. I just don’t care.

[iago_excolo]

Jarmyn looks a bit upset as he says, "Shit. No, not very much is well between me and the good doctor."

I shake my head, feeling a stab of sympathy for him. "Sorry to hear that but Lucien's not a bad sort. His life's complicated." I shrug lightly, attempting to make little of it as I continue, "I suppose the responsibility of being the town doctor will do that to a person." I smile, adding, "Don't take it to heart. Lucien's a forgiving sort and whatever you think you may have done, I doubt it's enough to make him stop associating with you." I give him a questioning look and tease as I ask, "You didn't try to murder anyone, did you? They frown on that around here," and I chuckle, knowing it's not that at all.

I offer him whiskey and he refuses, which makes me curious as to why. I offer him my smokes as per his request while asking, "No whiskey? You're missing out, Jarmyn. There's nothing like this where you came from." I consider his refusal again and say, "Not drinking whiskey isn't the norm for bartenders. Is there a tale behind that?"

"You flirting with me, Iago?"

I consider the question seriously before breaking into another grin. If he didn't look quite so vulnerable, I'd likely tease him further but these kind of games can only go so far. Kindly, I say, "Perhaps but don't put any undue weight on it. I enjoy the banter more than anything else and I already have someone waiting in bed for me."

My grin returns and I say, "But there's nothing wrong with a harmless flirtation now and again, especially from someone sexy, and as long as my wife isn't made to feel uncomfortable, it's nothing to worry over." I give him another curious look, asking, "Does it make you uncomfortable for me to tell you that I believe you're good-looking?"

[jaeresteade]

I’m not in the mood to talk about Lucien any more than we have, since he already thinks I can’t keep my mouth shut about his business. I have it half in mind to just go to Miao and confess, but I have to think about it some more. Think about it another time.

“I don’t like the effect it has on me,” I tell Iago about the whiskey, which is most of the truth. “And how would you know where I’m from that I’d be missing out?” It just so happens he’s right, but I can tease him.

He grins at me as I take one of his cigarettes and light it, saying in so many words that yes, he is flirting, and no, he doesn’t mean anything by it. That makes me grin back at him. Good, we’re on the same page. “Do I look uncomfortable? Though if you’re trying to convince me I’m the better looking of the two of us, then I’ll have to argue with you about that one.” There, that should do it. Two can play at this game, and if he wants to spend the evening at it, I can live with that.

[iago_excolo]

"I don’t like the effect it has on me." Again, I'm curious as he continues, "And how would you know where I’m from that I’d be missing out?"

I laugh, saying, "Quite true. For all I know, you could be from the moon." Another drag and I ask, "So where's this mysterious place of origin? I'm from Ipswich, which is a good distance from Excolo. Colder as well."

Having straightened out the flirtation between us, I'm laughing harder as he teases me in return. "You don't look the least bit distressed to me." My laugh settles into a grin. "As for convincing you of that notion, I again point out the two fetching ladies from the wedding as validation." I finish half my drink and continue, "Verite made quite the sexy warrior maiden this past Halloween, and Verdandi, I swear that woman doesn't own a single bra."

"But if you're looking for something about yourself--" I pause, smiling slyly as I openly examine his face and body. "Then I'd say that you're quite hot with a fit body and an engaging smile." I lean over, looking behind him before adding, "Your ass isn't bad either."

[jaeresteade]

This man is something else, telling me where he’s from and looking me up and down like I was a dinner he just got served and he was trying to decide what looked tasty. I guess he likes what he sees from what he’s saying. “I grew up a ways from here, farther than Ipswitch, and yes, they were short on good whiskey. Still don’t like the stuff.”

I smile into my mug as he goes on about Verdi and Ri. “I don’t know what those two are planning for me,” I tell him, though I have a good idea. “Should I be worried?”

I don’t know if he thought I was looking for compliments, but he starts reeling them off, just as casual as you please, like he chats up men everyday. I’m not used to people just saying that kind of thing outright about anyone, especially not me. His eyes on me feel hot, and I have to remind myself that this is just for fun.

Is he looking for me to say something back to him? “You look good when you drink.” There, that’s tame enough. “And you smoke like you’re making love to the tobacco.” Not so tame, but maybe he’ll like it, and it’s true. Something else comes to me to add, and I’m not sure that I should. “And…playing cards, you kept letting me fill your glass. I like a man who’ll let me take care of him.” And God, if he laughs at me for say that, I don’t know what I’ll do. Shouldn’t have said it.

[iago_excolo]

He says his hometown is further away than mine, touching again on the topic of whiskey. I nod, wondering what his family was like and why he might've left. Perhaps later I'll ask but for now, I say, "So if not whiskey, what do you drink, besides the obvious beer?" He's softer-spoken than I expected but I'm finding it suits him well especially since we can't all be hellions.

I make mention of Verdi and Verite and even though he sounds uncertain of the outcome, I doubt that's actually the case. If it is, he's in for a helluva surprise. The whole notion gives me a cheap thrill and I grin as I reply, "If I was in your place, I wouldn't be worried. I would, however, make sure to drink lots of water." I chuckle, adding, "And stretch beforehand. You wouldn't want to sprain anything important, would you?"

I make an honest assessment of his visible charms and I'm pleased to see that I've flattered him. As he pays me one compliment after another, my eyes linger over his form. I take another drag of my smoke, purposely taking my time over it as I hold his gaze and slowly exhale.

"And…playing cards, you kept letting me fill your glass. I like a man who’ll let me take care of him."

Both of my eyebrows raise and I think back, recalling the evening of the card game. I'd noticed it then but paid it little mind, other than enjoying it for the evening. I consider the notion for a moment longer and raise my half-filled glass to him. Knocking back what's left of my drink, I rise from my seat and move a short distance to a table closer to the wall. I can see the courtyard from my vantage point and I turn my gaze in his direction, beckoning him over with nothing but a casual wave of my hand.

Sliding my empty glass in his direction, I lounge in my seat while propping my legs on one of the nearby chairs. I give him an expectant look and grin as I say, "Far be it for me to ruin your good time. Bring the bottle and the cookies and we'll discuss this further." A few more smoke rings drift up and I say, "My right shoulder's stiffer than it should be." Another steady gaze and I ask, "What do you think I should do about that?"

[jaeresteade]

He really wants to know what kind of drinker I am, and I don’t want to disappoint him with the truth, which
is that I’m not much of one at all. “I’ll drink anything interesting.” As long as it’s cheap, or free, or being
bought for me by someone. I doubt he’d understand not having money to spend on luxuries. Iago has an air
about him that makes me think he’s never wanted for anything in his life. He’s not rude about it, though, so
it doesn’t make me dislike him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him, after he offers some helpful advice about how to handle my invitation to
the Tavern later this week.

I think he likes what I’ve said about him, because he slows everything he’s doing down, making it look
like a show just for me. Goddamn. I envy that cigarette. My last remark earns me a raise of his eyebrows. I
brace myself, but he only considers me for a long minute before he finishes his drink. My eyes flick to his
throat as he swallows. Is that for my benefit, too?

He gets up from his chair, but it’s only to move to a table by the wall where he slouches, just looking at
me levelly. He’s still getting my measure too, I guess. And then, oh God, he flicks his fingers at me like he
couldn’t care less whether I come or not and slides his glass in my direction. When he tells me to bring his
things and come, I can’t think of doing anything else. I grab my mug and his bottle in one hand, and the
plate in the other and set them on the table. I don’t sit down, though, not yet. I don’t think that’s how this
works. Never thought I’d be so happy about waiting on anyone on my day off, but this is different.

Sure enough, he looks up and starts drawling at me about his shoulder, asking what I think he should do
about it. I spare a glance for the room, but it’s half-empty on a Monday and no one is paying us any mind at
all. Besides, I tell myself, I made enough of a scene with Verdi and Ri yesterday to convince anyone I like
women just fine. “I think you should let me take care of that for you.”

It’s no great hardship to move behind him and rest a hand on the shoulder in question. Tarquin’s better
at this, but I’ve picked up a few tricks here and there. “This the one, sir?” I say it barely loud enough for
him to hear as I start kneading at the well-developed muscles his shirt doesn’t hide at all. I had no hopes of
getting to touch him tonight, so I’m already doing better than I’d expected. We’ll see what else happens.

I reach around him and fill his glass up again, spilling not a drop, although my hand, if you look very
closely, is shaking a little. “Now,” I ask him, just a murmur in his ear, “what are we discussing?”

[iago_excolo]

He's surprisingly quick to obey and whether or not it should, it pleases me. Everything I've currently requested is laid out before me and he stands ready for whatever I next desire. It's a heady feeling, going straight to my loins and I casually mention my stiff shoulder while watching for his reaction. He glances quickly towards the main tavern area before saying, "“I think you should let me take care of that for you."

I nod, giving my unspoken permission while laying my lighter next to my smokes. He moves behind me and lays one hand on my shoulder, politely asking, "This the one, sir?" I've not been called sir since I lived in my father's house but I remind myself that this for fun, not something to dredge up the unhappy past. No need to pin too much to it and I say, "Yes," as his hands start to massage. It's an unexpected pleasure and I sigh, closing my eyes briefly as I relax into his grip.

He shifts a bit, reaching past me to attend to my drink. I grin, casting a sidelong glance at him as I note the air of tension about him. As my hand closes around the drink, he leans close, whispering hotly in my ear, "Now, what are we discussing?"

There's a moment when I forget and it both thrills and annoys me. I can't give directions if I lose my own way and I pause, considering how best to reply. I'm nonchalant as I say, "We were discussing how you could take care of me." I crush out the little bit left of my smoke and continue, "I'm not unused to this sort of thing but you seem capable." Grinning again, I add, "More than capable."

I reach for another smoke, leaving it unlit as it dangles from my lips. "Do you have any special skills that I should know about?"

[jaeresteade]

I think he’s satisfied with what I’m doing from the way he sighs and closes his eyes. Isn’t that a sight. I know he just wants to talk tonight, and I’m fine with that, but I can’t help but thinking about doing other things to him that would make him sigh and make those long-lashed eyes flutter shut.

From his tone and his grin, he’s having an easier time staying calm than I am. Not unused to this sort of thing. Does he mean he’s been with men, or that he’s had servants, or both? Or something else my head isn’t clear enough to think of now? Goddamn. I guess the fair thing to do is to say something back he could take a number of ways. “I’m all things to all men.” And let the apostle roll in his grave over that one.

He stubs out his cigarette and takes another one but doesn’t light it. It’s clear what he wants me to do, and I don’t even have to think before I reach for the lighter he set out. I know he won’t thank me if I singe that perfect nose of his, so I flick the flame carefully, just enough to catch the end of the cigarette as it dangles carelessly from his mouth.

He asks me do I have any special skills, his voice like brown sugar. God, this man. What the hell have I gotten myself into? To give myself time, I pull back a little and put my free hand on his other shoulder. The ends of his hair brush the back of my hands, making it even harder to think. I know what it feels like when Tarquin digs his thumbs into the muscle at the base of my neck and squeezes, so I do that, wondering if I can make Iago groan. “Skills you might benefit from here in public? Or the other kind?” I murmur, as I keep working at the sides of his neck and down his spine.

[iago_excolo]

"I’m all things to all men."

One corner of my mouth quirks up and as I lean into the massage, I chuckle and say, "Are you now? That sounds quite intriguing and believe you me, I've heard all sorts of claims from other men before. I'm looking forward to finding out if that's true."

My smoke is unlit but in no time, he lights it and continues with his previous task. Ah, this is delicious and I grin, content to wallow in this small bliss. I take a drag, then another, exhaling after each one before picking up my whiskey.

I down a bit of it, enjoying the slow burn in my chest as I ask about his special skills. Oh, this is more fun than it should be but I'm not complaining. He might stop if I did and my shoulder's not yet relaxed enough for my liking.

There's a pause and did he hear my thoughts? No, because he begins again, drawing another sigh from me as he begins to knead at my neck. There's another heated murmur in my ear and the tickle of it makes me grin. "Skills you might benefit from here in public? Or the other kind?"

That elicits another chuckle from me. "In public, of course, but I don't see why you and I couldn't be friends of a sort." Let him take that as he chooses. We did establish this as a flirtation and I'm not one to disappoint in that area.

[jaeresteade]

He’s playing with me, but it’s so different from Lucien the other night. Yes, both of us know nothing will come of it, but it’s friendly. It’s light and fun and hot as hell. I’m trying not to compare the two of them I my mind, because my ability to think clearly about Lucien was lost a long time ago. And Iago…Iago’s here, sighing and laughing under my hands, because of me.

“Oh, Iago, I could mix you one hell of a drink, or cook you one hell of a meal.” I’m laughing too, still nervous, though it’s lightening up some. Mostly now I’m just turned on and trying to give as good as I get. “There’s not much I haven’t done for work, one time or another. Just as long as you don’t ask me to milk a cow.” I can even smile about that. “And if you’d like to be friends, I can be very friendly.” I hit what might be a knot in his back and press around it, trying to loosen it. “Am I hurting you?”

[iago_excolo]

As he lays out a list, I'm immediately considering what of those mentioned is most appealing. He's willing to indulge me in quite a bit but unfortunately, isn't inclined to follow through. At least not where cows are concerned and I laugh before commenting in a tone of mock-displeasure, "How disappointing. Whatever will I do with you?"

I'm certain he's got a notion or two in mind and I hear the smile in his voice as he offers his friendship. "We'll see, won't we? Right now though, I'd like another cookie." I take one and wince as his fingers find a sore spot. His attentiveness is commendable as he immediately asks, "Am I hurting you?"

"Only a bit but don't worry about it. I'd rather you continue as you are." He's working through the knot nicely and I continue in pleased voice, "If I'm to be spoiled than I'd like a tale to pass the time. Did you dream during the long nap? Tell me about that."

[jaeresteade]

Iago pretending to be disappointed in me is about as hot as everything else he’s been doing tonight. And I don’t believe for a minute that he’s actually at a loss where I’m concerned. “I have a feeling you’re going to do whatever you like with me.” That’s true enough. I could offer now, but I guess I already have, sort of. Something to be said for that I think, remembering Lucien again in spite of myself. Need to stop that and concentrate on the man under my hands.

He helps himself to a cookie, just as cool as you please. I don’t know how he’s managing it. Maybe he does favor women but he’s just humoring me. Well, I’m glad to be humored as long as he’s not having fun at my expense. Way I see it, so far it’s been both of us having fun.

He takes me pushing at that knot in stride, rolling his shoulders and letting me keep going. “Your wish…” I let the rest trail off. If we were in private and he weren’t attached, I’d drop a kiss on the top of his head, maybe let my hands slide down over his chest while I whispered something filthy and bit his ear lobe. What does he pick to go and ask me about, though, but the least sexy thing I can think to talk about? “Do you know the story of Jonah? Got swallowed by the whale and spit back up after three days?” He doesn’t seem like the kind to know his Bible. “Dreamed I was him, getting washed up on a beach with a lot of other people. And before you ask, no, I did not recognize any of them.” I know the stories that have been going around, that people dreamed together, but I didn’t, and I’d put money on it that they didn’t either.

I don’t much want to talk about all that, though. “Seems to me you owe me a story in return now.” I reach out and stroke my fingers up his collarbone. No, this man has never wanted for much in his life, I think. “When was the last time you let a man…take care of you?” That’s maybe to personal to ask, but he wanted to know about my dreams. And as much as he’s drunk, he shouldn’t be feeling like getting angry at me.

[iago_excolo]

"I have a feeling you’re going to do whatever you like with me." I have an excellent notion of what he'd like me to do and were I not married, I'd show him. My heart and loins, however, belong to Milady Glass. That doesn't mean that I'm not enjoying this game though. The cookie's not bad either.

My grin's sly as his tone betrays an unmistakable heat, "Your wish..." I finish the statement for him. "--Is my command?" Again, there's that heady feeling and his willing surrender is quite delicious. Taking advantage of his offer, I request a tale to entertain me, something recent, personal and pertinent. His dream will do nicely.

I listen closely, recognizing Jonah's story and I nod, saying, "I know the tale." He goes on to describe the rest of his dream and I'm about to ask for more details when he provides them on his own before saying, "Seems to me you owe me a story in return now."

I chuckle, well-versed with this sort of exchange when there's a brush of his fingers against my collarbone. If it wasn't obvious before, then his desire certainly is now. He adds, "When was the last time you let a man...take care of you?"

Ah, what a question he's chosen. It brings up my recent pained past and I finish my drink before chewing on my smoke for a moment. I close my eyes as flashes of intimate moments flit through my mind and I quietly begin, "It's been a while, a few months ago actually but that's over now." I'd shrug but that would interfere with my massage. "He left without a word to me and truly, I've not taken it well. There were other complications as well," Milady Glass, "But in the end, all that truly mattered to me, was his lack of solid commitment."

My hand closes over his as I turn to look at him. "You'll not share that, Jarmyn, not with anyone. Those tidbits aren't for public consumption and I'd rather not explain to anyone the intricacies of my heart." I don't add a threat, not having the heart to do that right now and I say, "Share another tale with me, something of your own choosing this time."

[jaeresteade]

The way Iago works at his cigarette and tenses his shoulders after I ask makes me regret opening my mouth. But he does answer after a long moment, telling the bare bones of the story. A few months? Surely he’s been married longer than that. Maybe Glass didn’t object then, or maybe she didn’t know. I know better than to ask. And solid commitment means he’s not my type after all. “I’m sorry for that,” I offer, feeling more than bad.

He looks at me over his shoulder, lifting one hand to cover mine as he as much as give me an order. That’s his right to, though. “I can keep my mouth shut,” I promise him, thinking about what Lucien would have to say about that. I wish I could kiss Iago to seal the promise, but that would be going too far, even if we were in private. What I feel I can do, though, is ghost two fingers of my free hand along his neck, hoping he won’t object the caress. “No explanation needed.”

He asks me for another story, telling me to pick, and my first thought is that I haven’t got anything to offer, no stories I want to tell. And then it comes to me that with what I asked him and with how he answered, that I maybe owe him a story I don’t want to tell, and something in kind, too. I can’t shrug this one away. “I never loved a man,” I start out. “Not one I was fucking, I mean. My brother Joshua-he’d be thirty-five or six now-I loved him, I guess. He’s the reason I’m standing here, not just alive but standing up.” And that gives me an idea about what story to tell.

“When I was about fourteen, I was loading hay by myself, in a-do you know what a rack lifter is?” He may not have spent much time in the country, I guess. “It’s like an elevator, in a barn. Anyway, I wasn’t strong enough to use it but I was anyway, trying to get the hay up into the loft fast as I could.” And no need to tell him I was trying to go fast because I wanted supper that night. “Anyway, the load slipped, and when I tried to get it back in, my leg got caught in one of the belts that lift the thing. It should’ve broken my leg-if you think I’m skinny now, you should have seen me then-but it didn’t, just wrenched my knee around until I was hanging there. I was half-crazy with pain and tearing at the thing when Joshua found me, and somehow he got his arm in and pulled me out.” I stop a minute, because I still don’t know how Joshua reached in, or why he would have been back to the barn then, when everyone else was out with the haying. “It hurt his arm badly. He has a scar to match mine, although he has the use of it still.” He’s seen that I don’t limp, so he knows I have use of mine. “Or he did. Haven’t seen him in about ten years.”

I guess that’s how to end it. I’m not much for telling stories. “I’ll thank you not to spread that around, too.” Though who he would want to tell it to, I don’t know. I’m not sure what to do now, so I just go back to working on his shoulders, my head full of the pain of that day and the sound of Joshua cursing a blue streak as he fought to free me and how much I miss him.