October Writing Challenge: Uncanon

For the past couple of months, Josh had been almost completely absent from weekly lunches and other social activities. Cobalt hadn’t given it too much thought since Josh didn’t handle emotional situations well (and neither did Cobalt; feelings were best avoided) and he knew that he and Sean had been having problems. Cobalt had mumbled something about being there if he needed to talk and then had quickly dropped the subject.

He hadn’t seen or heard from Josh since.

Cobalt hadn’t seen or heard from Sean either, but he preferred that and thus had given it no thought whatsoever. Beyond thanking God that life had finally begun to make sense again.

Particularly when Josh called him out of the blue and asked if he wanted to have lunch on Friday. Cobalt had no plans, which happened when one was single and somewhat misanthropic. So he agreed.

Now he sat at a table in the sandwich shop, waiting for Josh to arrive; the other attorney was late, but that was to be expected. He tended to get lost.

Less than fifteen minutes late (which wasn’t too bad), Josh walked into the shop, a smile on his face. Apparently he’d worked through the relationship problems. Cobalt was glad of that; he also hoped that his friend would spare him details.

Josh found the table and sat down across from the shorter man. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Josh picked up a menu and began to peruse the selection. “How have you been?”

“The same as always. I can’t complain.” Cobalt shrugged as he spoke. He was satisfied enough with his life as it was; he certainly had no better expectations. And while he didn’t want details, he had to ask because it was rude not to, and he hoped that Josh left this as general as possible. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you much the past couple of months.”

That caused Josh to blush and look down at his hands ruefully. “Sorry about that. Things have been busy, you know? But I’m fine.” Josh smiled again and looked back up at Cobalt. “Better than fine, really.”

“Good. So you and Sean worked things out?”

Josh nodded and set down his menu. “We broke up two months ago.”

“Oh.” Cobalt hadn’t expected that, certainly hadn’t expected Josh to smile about it. “I’m, um, sorry?”

“Oh, it’s fine. We’re still friends. Everything’s fine.” Josh shook his head to himself, grinning at some memory or inside joke. “I think he and Anya are seeing each other.”

Cobalt blinked in surprise. “Sean and Anya?” Cobalt tried not to spend any time or energy ruminating on Sean Neville’s sex life, particularly since it had a tendency to land in his unwilling and uninterested lap. He was vaguely aware that Sean was bisexual, despite the fact that he’d slept with at least three men in Cobalt’s social circle; he remembered the telepath had used “she” when describing one of his exes once. Still, Anya was half his age and his coworkers, and she didn’t seem like Sean’s type. Admittedly, Cobalt wasn’t an impartial judge, since he didn’t like Sean and questioned why anyone would date him. And while Griff seemed perfectly like Sean’s type, and Josh seemed to be his only type, Danny had made no sense, except when thinking about him as substitute for Josh which still made Cobalt furious. Plus, some small part of him had to wonder whether someone who had slept with that many men really could be interested in women, but he knew he had no room to judge there.

Still, he’d thought that Anya had better judgment. What could she see in someone twice her age and...well, what could anyone who wasn’t Josh see in Sean Neville? He wasn’t an impartial judge, but he didn’t care.

“And you’re okay with that?”

Josh nodded and blushed again. “I’m fine. I’m seeing someone too.”

Oh. That was...unexpected. But before Cobalt could inquire politely or Josh could offer more information, the waitress appeared.

Two cups of coffee, a pimento cheese sandwich, and a turkey club on the table later, and Josh had finally stopped blushing. He had, however, indicated that he’d been dating his new boyfriend for almost two months. Since nearly immediately after he and Sean had broken up. And that they were happy.

Cobalt was grateful that Josh hadn’t given explicit details, which was another reason he and Josh were friends. They didn’t believe in gratuitous sharing. Still, as Cobalt sipped his coffee, he asked, “Is it anyone I know?”

That caused another blush from his companion. “Yes.”

Cobalt almost rolled his eyes; it was like watching a school girl with a crush. “Well?”

“Morgan.”

Cobalt nearly dropped his coffee. “Excuse me?” He couldn’t have heard that correctly.

“Morgan,” Josh repeated softly, his lips wide in a fond smile.

“Morgan? My Morgan?” Cobalt set his cup down to prevent dropping it in his lap. Already, he felt his heart pounding too fast, felt heat spread through him as the anger began to build.

“He’s not really yours,” Josh began to protest. In doing so, he confirmed that, yes, he was dating Morgan Tonaya.

“Like Hell he’s not,” Cobalt growled. Shadows began to curl around the table protectively. “He’s like my son!”

Josh’s eyes were wide with surprise; he hadn’t expected Cobalt to take this news so poorly. After all, his friend was dating another adult, consensually, and they enjoyed one another’s company. They made each other happy which is what mattered. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that he’s an adult. We’re good for each other; he makes me happy and I like to think that-”

“Not another word,” Cobalt warned him. The shorter attorney had pushed his plate away, having lost his appetite; anger made it impossible to eat. “I’ve seen the games you play in relationships, and that you would sleep with my son and then sit here with me and smile about it just blows my mind.

Cobalt shook his head in utter disbelief. “We’re through.”

“What?” Josh blinked at him because the shorter man was making no sense. “I’m sorry, but...I mean Sean is fine with it and-”

“I don’t give a flying f*ck what Sean Neville thinks. Sean didn’t change Morgan’s diapers and play with him when his own father didn’t give two damns.” Perhaps he wasn’t behaving rationally, but he didn’t care. Josh was supposed to be his friend but he’d committed this betrayal, which made him not safe and not trustworthy.

The next thing Cobalt knew, he was standing. A second later, he punched Josh in the nose. “I’ve seen your cycle of bullsh*t in relationships, and you’re going to expose my son to that?” Another punch, this time in the still-seated man’s chest, which caused him to double over.

“Stay away from him. And don’t talk to me again.”

Josh coughed and closed his eyes; he thought his nose might be bleeding but it hurt too much to check. “Cobalt?”

Cobalt didn’t care. Instead, he threw ten dollars down on the table for the bill. “I mean it, Bernstein. We’re through.”

Shadows curled around him, letting him fade into darkness before the waitress could ask him to leave or another patron could stop him. And when he was outside and safely back in his car, he slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, causing the horn to go off. It would call attention to him, but he didn’t care. He was too angry and too hurt to care.

This was why he didn’t have friends. People couldn’t be trusted.

The No-Homo AU #2, Variations on a Theme: Immaculate

Clarisse was, in a word, immaculate. He couldn’t remember a day where her hair wasn’t perfectly in place, her subtle make-up not spotlessly applied, or her outfit (perfectly pressed) not situated perfectly over her frame. He still didn’t know how she always got the back-seams of her stockings straight without a mirror or any help. Whenever he asked how she did it, she always turned a little pink and said “Practice.”

It had been the first thing that drew them together. That, and her manners. Now? It was what kept him from an anxiety attack in the mornings, when his mind was foggy and it was difficult to relax.

He arrived home from his business trip, and before he could even open the door all the way, she was there waiting. She took his bag, kissed him on the cheek, and wrapped him in her arms, pressing her cheek to his.

“Welcome home, James.” She greeted, setting his luggage neatly in the corner near the umbrella stand, where he kicked off his shoes.

“What smells good?” He murmured, all but floating toward the kitchen with his nose leading the way. They were fairly even when it came to taking on the cooking duties, but Clarisse had a way to foreign food that made James’ stomach rumble at the thought.

“Soufflé!” She chirped, bustling into the kitchen. As she went, she pulled on an apron over her floral dress. Despite the fact that he’d seen her in it a million times, it was still the immaculate color of buttermilk. She peeked into the oven and, placing the mitt over her delicate hand, pulled out the tray of soufflés.

James held his breath as the fragile desserts made their trip to the counter. Clarisse sighed gently, turning her head to beam at James when they made it unscathed.
“ta-da!” She said, gesturing to them with her mitted hand. Chuckling, James shook his head and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“They’re beautiful. Are they---“

“Strawberry. Yes” She pecked him on the cheek. “Just for you.”
James peered at the desserts over his glasses, smiling from ear to ear. His Christmas cookies were almost famous, but Clarisse’s soufflés were the unsung stars of their household. Clarisse shuffled behind him and pulled out a their plastic tub of confectioners’ sugar. A frown creased her face as she moved to remove the lid.

She grunted once. “It’s stuck!” she pouted, her lower lick sticking out petulantly. James rarely had to open a jar for his wife (frankly, she was the jar-opener of the family), but offered all the same. After a few more tries, she pushed the container over him. He was surprised to find out difficult it was to pry off the top, and he found himself sticking his tongue between his teeth like it would somehow grant him his wife’s super strength.

Clarisse giggled behind him, but suddenly gasped. “OH! James be care--!”

But it was too late. James made a noise not unlike a disgruntled mongoose as the container slipped off the granite counters and onto the floor. It was then that it decided to pop open, spilling the fine sugar across their feet.

James wrung his hands as the sugar rose up in tiny clouds around them. He’d made a huge mess of the kitchen, and the sugar was all over his shoes. It would stick to the carpet. There were going to be footprints everywhere. The sugar would grind into the fibers of the carpet and get sticky and---

Clarisse threw a small handful of the sugar over James, letting it float down over his hair and shoulders. He coughed a few times, arrested from his anxiety when she giggled next to him, dusting her hands on her apron. “Wh-why did you do that?!” James asked incredulously.

“Because sometimes it is better to have fun and clean up later than it is to fret about keepings things immaculate.” She explained, laying her hands, still matte from a covering over sugar, on either side of his face. Clarisse kissed his lips chastely, and James was surprised to find that her raven hair had been lightened grey by the rising cloud of sugar.

She tasted sweet.

The idea of kissing sugar that may or may not have been on the floor was a little unsettling, but James couldn’t see any reason to let his wife out of his arms. She leaned into him and rested her head against his, her eyes closed serenely.

James took a handful of sugar from the counter and promptly threw it into her hair, sure to muss it up as much as possible.

Squealing like a young girl, Clarisse quickly pulled out the pins and reached for James, who was somehow managing a laugh as well as he scrambled to put the kitchen table between them. A sugar war broke out and soon the entire kitchen as clouded by sugar.

The soufflés fell.

Their immaculate kitchen was left in disarray as the fell into giggles and kisses on the floor.

“This is so unsanitary.”

“Shh…kiss me.”