"A doctor?" Corey asks excitedly.
"A chiropractor," Calum corrects him, trying to concentrate on the comic he's reading with not much success. He's been thinking about being asked out all day and it's made him cranky.
"All that counts is a little white jacket at a comfortable mid thigh length. It's every mother's dream." Corey sticks his tongue out as he paints his toe nails.
"Just be sure not to tell mine, I don't need her to know every time I go out."
"Every time you go out is once a year," pipes up Sam, scraping his bowl for the last licks of ice cream.
"I don't need you keeping count!" objects Calum.
"Accounting is my life..." points out Sam before grinning. "So what's he like?"
Calum smiles to himself before dampening it down, becoming more cynical the more he thinks about him, "Old," he states.
"What's old?" Sam asks for clarification.
"Older than you, probably forty?"
"That is old," Sam agrees.
"On the other hand, they don't cum as quick and they have lots of money." Corey points out, ever the optimist. "So where's he taking you?"
"Some place called The Bridge, Bridge Room?" Calum's not quite sure he heard correctly.
Corey and Sam quietly explode, Sam nearly snorting ice cream out of his nose, and look at each other, they know exactly where Calum's going.
"Oh I hope he's paying!"
"Is it expensive?" Calum asks.
"A medium priced entree is more that your tax return," Sam exaggerates, but not much.
"Shit!"
"What are you wearing?" Corey casually asks.
"I dunno, this?" Calum asks, looking down at himself lying on the couch.
Corey nearly chokes, "Okay. A doctor is taking you to one of the most expensive restaurants in Sydney and you're going like that?" Calum barely nods before Corey starts getting up.
"Not in this universe. As a men's apparel professional it is my sworn duty to make sure you are properly attired. Now put down Captain America and come with me." Corey swipes the comic out of Calum's hands, slamming it down on the table and grabs Calum hand, dragging him up and off the sofa.
~~~
Michael slides open his front door taking in Calum's appearance in one smooth sweeping appraisal. Giving him a knowing look, Calum walks in and waits for his comments.
"Oh shut up!" he bursts, unable to stay silent.
"Who did this thing to you?" Michael asks, walking up to Calum noting the red trousers and blue overly patterned tee. "Oh let me guess, Corey de la Renta?"
"I should've just worn my jeans..." Calum complains as Michael walks in a circle around him taking in just how bad Calum looks. "...but they said 'oh you can't go on a date like that!'"
"You've got a date?" Michael asks incredulously.
"Yeah."
"A date?" He repeats, just as incredulous as the first time. Giving Calum a big hug, Michael takes the piss, "Cal's got a date!!!"
"I"m going to call and cancel," Calum says as Michael nearly squeezes the air out of him.
Letting go suddenly, Michael looks at him, "The fuck you are!"
"Well I can't go like this!"
"You're right," Michael agrees, before walking over to a large silver shopping bag on the table. "Here, try this," he tells Calum, throwing a black, very thin, long sleeved jumper at him.
"You're sure?" Calum asks, walking off to the nearest mirror to see what it looks like.
"I've got dozens of them."
"I feel weird going on a date." Complaining, Calum takes off the top that Corey insisted he wear and slips Michael's soft jumper on.
"Make sure he opens the car doors for you and pulls your chair out..." calls Michael sarcastically from his bedroom, going to look for other clothes that will fit his best friend.
"Have you ever been on a real date?" Calum asks Michael as he comes back with more black clothes in his hands.
"Once," Michael pauses to think. "I ended up fucking the waiter."
"I don't know what to do. Or say..." Starting to freak out, Calum takes off the red trousers and pulls on the ones that Michael has just thrown to him without even looking.
"Just be yourself."
"That should make the evening fly by," Calum says, equally sarcastic and self depreciating. "Why can't we just fast forward to the sex?"
Michael laughs as he pulls on a black singlet, obviously dressing for an evening at Arq, "The point of a date, or so it's been explained to me by those who do that sort of thing, is that you actually get to know the other person, before you fuck them."
"What a dumb idea, what if you don't like them?!" Calum complains.
"Worse yet, what if you do?"
Calum chews on that information before commenting quietly, almost to himself, "These sleeves are too long."
Rolling up the leather jacket sleeves on Calum, Michael asks him, "That's better. So, who is this guy?"
"No-one. I don't even know why I said yes, I guess I just felt sorry for him."
"A mercy fuck huh?"
"Who says I'm fucking him?!"
"Well if he's buying you an expensive dinner you're going to have to put out..." Michael points out. "So what do you think?" he asks Calum, dragging him over to the mirror so he can see himself.
"I think I look like you."
Whispering in Calum's ear, Michael tries to encourage him despite his misgivings of his best friend actually going on a date. What's all that about then? "You look fantastic. You are fantastic. Remember that Cal. Now you've got to go, you don't want to be late!"
"What about you, what are you up to tonight?"
"I'm entertaining a client."
Shocked, Calum turns to look at him, "You're not going to go through with it?"
Ignoring him, Michael pushes him gently out of the door towards the lift, "You look so cute. It'll be over before you know it."
~~~
"How long can you keep the chicken warm for?" Maddie asks Geordie who's staring into her wine glass. "Hey, you might as well face it hun, he's not coming."
"You know Michael, he's always..."
"Fashionably late? When will you ever learn?"
~~~
Michael finds the door easily enough but hesitates just before knocking. It's obviously a suite that Henry's in, a double door is enough to tell him that. Inside he will no doubt find chilling champagne and a turn down service, maybe even chocolate on the pillows. But still he hesitates.
Instead the doors open, taking away the option of walking away. A bell boy exits, giving him a look as he goes that Michael doesn't like the look of, and right behind him is Henry, on the suite phone. Covering up the mouthpiece, he tells Michael "I wasn't sure you'd come."
Turning to shut the doors after him, Michael says softly to no-one in particular, "I always come when I say I'm going to."
YOU ARE READING
Queer as Muke
Fanfiction"The thing you need to know is, it's all about sex. It's true. In fact they say men think about sex every twenty-eight seconds. Of course that's straight men. With gay men it's every nine." Twenty nine year old advertising executive Michael Cliffor...
