Safe and Sane

It was time. The cakes were laid out, the coffee machine was on, the tables were set out and clean. A few relatively discreet prints adorned the walls, and a small display cabinet in the corner showcased the sort of goods that would later be on sale downstairs.

Flyers described the plans for the store, the library and the gallery, and as a last minute remembrance that she wasn't in London and the weather would be terribly nice most of the time and some people would, after all, want to smoke, Beth had arranged a couple of tables in the tiny courtyard at the front of the store, with large, bright parasols shading the strength of the sun.

Now she simply had to cross her fingers and pray that people would turn up.

Another Wednesday, and for once, the cafe was relatively quiet. The manager was taking advantage of this to train up some rather wide-eyed looking new staff, who weren't entirely certain how the coffee machine worked, or the till, or where anything quite was.

Art had worked up a full head of steam by the time he flounced into the main lounge at the club. He cursed lowly in Spanish and English and trailed something that appeared to be yards of glittery purple tulle behind him.

"Madre de Dios! If I get my hands on him..." He waved a handful of tulle at the unlucky person at the bar. "Look at this! Look at it!"

Wednesday again, and another munch night. The cafe was increasingly quiet as layoffs took effect on household finances, and the board behind the counter was scattered with offers.

Quite why anyone would want to buy two coffees and get a third free, or whether it was a good idea for the majority of munch attendees, was anyone's guess.

John spotted Angel pretty much the second he walked into the club. He pulled his sunglasses off on his way over and sprawled down into a loose limbed and graceless sprawl beside him. "So. I've been on broadway, my dog grew up, Gus moved out, and I think I'm developing a thing for another guy that I'm not even kind of sure isn't a rebound thing. Oh, and I'm having dreams about my ex's cock. How're things with you?"

He sent Arthur tickets, both for the plane and the show. His plane landed while John was at rehersal, but he didn't have a show that night (one of the ones he'd handed over to the understudy, reluctantly but required by his contract), so he was able to meet Arthur at his place just in time for a (late) dinner.

"Hey, honey I'm-"

He didn't finish. Jack came barrelling out of the living room and leaped at him, nearly making him lose his take-out boxes. "ARGH!~"

Wednesday again, and a happier Wednesday than the previous one. The weather seemed to have warmed up especially for the inauguration, and the evening was mild enough that the cafe had tables set outside for more than just the smokers. A general air of celebration lingered from the previous day, and the cafe owner had decided to celebrate by offering free upgrades to larger sizes of coffee, or free muffins with the smallest ones.

Sugar and caffeine highs all around.

Angel showed up at John's house with a bouquet of flowers, a dog bone and a plain white envelope. He bounced nervously from foot to foot as he waited for the door to be answered, hoping that he wasn't too late.

There were balloons and streamers still up from the party the cafe had thrown the previous night. The staff though, the staff were still enthused, still bouncy, wandering through their jobs in Obama tee shirts, pins, big sparkly hats.

California's proposition 8 had put a dint in everyone's enthusiasm, but. Not much. They had freedom fries on offer in the cafe in a completely non ironic way for the first time ever.

It was a party. It was a costume party. There was food, there were traditional Halloween games- bobbing for apples, a place to carve jack o' lanterns and way, way too much candy and junk food. A place to dance. There were also a few open play rooms, set up for groups or exhibitionism, but that wasn't the focus of the night.


There were awards for the best costume, for the scariest, the funniest, the most creative, the sexiest.

The show was all of a week and a half away, and John and Angel had barely been in the same room together until today. Today they'd been thrown together and put through their paces. There was more than a little push and shove, not to mention rough criticism involved -- directed at both of them.

By the time they were left alone in the studio John was exhausted. He slid down to the floor, legs sprawled out in front of him and looked up at the ceiling. "I love my job. I love my job. I love my job."

Tuesday evening saw Beth frantically trying to find places to put all the books lying around her apartment and failing miserably. Dessert was taken care of, the menus for several local delivery places were on the kitchen counter, and chardonnay was chilling in the fridge, yet the bookshelves were full long before the pile of books by the side of the sofa had been put away.

She wasn't even thinking about the ones in her bedroom. Bedroom!

The remaining books were dumped hurriedly on her bed, and when the intercom buzzed to let her know that Angel had arrived, Beth was (nearly) calm and composed. And nearly buzzing herself with a mixture of tension.

The leaves were just starting to change on the trees- it was a beautiful day, really. Crisp, clear, sun shining and just the faintest hint of a chill as summer unfurled into fall. There was soup in the cafe, some chili, in addition to the regular assortment of drinks and snacks.

It was a little cooler- highs in the low seventies, lows in the hight 40s- so the doors were closed this week and they were doing an assortment of teas. Despite it being newly September, not even Fall properly yet, there were pumpkins scattered throughout the cafe.

A heavy black curtain separated this room from the hallway, and once you pushed past it there were cubby holes for clothing and a big stack of masks and condoms and sachets of lube, and then another curtain. Pushing past that, the room was nearly completely dark except for a low red light that allowed you to see the outline and movement of forms over the thickly spread pillows that covered the floor.

Who: Jon, David, Max, Anita, Eli, Ian, Miles, Beth, Bobby, Angel, Brae
When: Today, Demo
What: Chat
Where: Demo Lounge
Notes: If anyone wants to play off the demo, feel more than free.


( Aim Log )

Angel took a seat next to John, careful not to spill any of the coffee he had in huge mug and yawned widely.

"How much caffeine can the human body handle?" he asked.

It was a warm, cloudy day. The temperature hit 92 at noon and stayed around 85 into the early evening. There were cold drinks, hot drinks, but also, weirdly, a lot of chocolate.

A lot of chocolate. Chocolate biscuits, Chocolate cookies, cakes, lollypops, candies, dipped pretzels. Good chocolate too.

If asked the baristas rolled their eyes and explained "Over order"

Gus had brought the puppy and a change of clothes to his house for John, which meant John had no good reason to leave Gus' house over the weekend. Since he'd spent 95% of Sunday either out cold or stuffing his face with whatever Gus put in front of him, and the remaining 5% horny as hell, it worked out extremely well.

Monday morning he had to go home, both to let the housekeeper in to do all those windows, and to get to his palm pilot and reorganize his schedule for the week to accomodate the fact that he couldn't sit. He left the puppy at home, and headed back to the club -- with plans to meet Gus at the club a bit later, and head back to his place.

He still couldn't sit, but fortunately he'd dressed with his ass (shoulder, back and thigh) in mind. One of Gus' white buttondown shirts, that draped from the shoulders to the cuffs that he'd buttoned at the second button and cuffed back, left untucked and hanging nearly to his knees, and a pair of light, silky black pants that didn't touch him anywhere except the waist.

It wasn't exactly his normal mode of dress; right now it was fantastic. It didn't chaffe, didn't rub, there was no pressure against bruises. All that showed was the edge of the bitemark on his throat.

He glanced around the common room, headed directly for the couch and then rather than even thinking about sitting dropped to his knees in front of it, knees spread fairly far apart to keep from sitting on his heels, and opened the newspaper that someone had left lying on the sofa's cushions to read.

When he heard the door open he looked over his shoulder and smiled, faintly. "Hey, sweetheart."

Since he knew he was going to be shopping with Beth later, Angel had toned down his look but not completely -- he was coming straight from the club. He had on his wig and makeup but a slacks suit (very Marlena Dietrich) and of course, fabulous shoes.

He waved at Beth when he spotted her and hurried over.

"I'm not late, am I darling?" he asked, going in for air kisses on the cheeks.