vanilla and chocolate chip mint
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Tactless
Rating: G
Challenge: Vanilla #21: a dare, Chocolate Chip Mint #3: flamboyant
Toppings/Extras: none
Wordcount: 625
Summary: Pia Rees enlists help to discover if her suspicions about Ashdown are correct.
Notes: I’m sure the prompts tell you all you need to know.
Right, Pia Rees thought, gaze sweeping up and down the bar. Here we go.
“’Scuse me,” she said, leaning against the bar next to a lone man sipping at some sort of berry cider. He turned to face her with a sharp smile and she nodded gruffly. “Are you gay?”
“What sort of a way is that to introduce yourself to someone at a bar?” he asked.
What a great start. Pia drummed her fingers on the faux wood surface of the bar for a moment, considering her position. Somewhere on the other side of the room, Ashdown was sat at a table, unsuspectingly twiddling his thumbs when she had offered to get the next round. It was a high-class place-Ashdown wouldn’t really accept any other kind-but cosy too, and generally had a nice crowd in it.
“Just wonderin’,” Pia said.
“Why does it even matter?” the man asked. “And why pick me to ask that?”
Pia looked at him for a moment.
“Dunno. You look like you look after your hair? You got nice clothes on? Whatever man, I wasn’t tryin’ to offend you.”
“Straight men can have nice hair... and wear powder blue.”
“So you’re straight.”
“Well... no.”
Here we go, she thought-but she couldn’t help but grin. Surely he’d be just about perfect.
“Look,” she said, tipping her head conversationally, the rather endearingly cheeky grin on her face somewhat balancing the roughness of her accent and words. And actions. But Pia was nothing if not rash. “I have a mate, right? And he is so gay. He’s also so far in the closet he’s playing with the elves in Narnia.”
“There aren’t any elves in Narnia,” her newfound not-really-friend said.
“Whatever. Anyway... he’s in denial and all this ‘n that... so I’m wonderin’ if someone can help me out, that’s all.” Pia winked. “You might just be that lucky guy.”
“I’m not just going to hit on someone because you ask me to!”
“Alright, feisty. That wasn’t what I was suggestin’. We pretend to be friends and you just talk about how great it is bein’ gay.” She lowered her voice. “He comes from a well weird background. His family and stuff are really... you know, all about repression an’ that. His denial is just sad! I don’t know if he even knows it’s OK to be gay, ya know?”
“Hmm,” the man said, turning around. “Which one is he?”
“By the window,” Pia hissed, nodding her head towards it with a flick of her bleached-blonde hair.
“Well... he does look gay...”
“What the fuck happened to all that stuff about not judging by appearances, eh?”
The man grinned.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Pia. Rees. And you?”
“Russell Crossbridge.” He glanced back towards the window and away again quickly, as if thinking, running a hand through his extremely tall hair. “Well. Is he nice?”
“I ain’t askin’ you to-...”
“Answer the question,” Russell said, raising his glass to his lips.
“Not really,” Pia said. “Sorry. I mean, he probably is... he can be. He’s a laugh. I reckon it’s his repressed gayness an’ all that, making him act like an asshole.”
“You know, Pia, you’re really eloquent.”
“Oh, God,” Pia said, rolling her eyes. “You sound like him. Seriously now, don’t hit on him. This is only meant to be an... experiment sort of thing.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Russell said loftily, starting to walk towards the table by the window.
What had she done?
“Hey, look, mate...”
“Don’t worry, kid, I’m just scoping,” he said with a smirk. “Can you introduce me?”
There was mischief in his eyes and Pia found herself very, very tempted.
She bit her lip.
“Oh... go on, then!”