Kitty: The Sequel Chapter 3
"Mikeyway!" Frankie's ever enthusiastic greeting had me on the floor, though this was becoming increasingly familiar.
I hadn't talked to the guy, had just wanted to run away and hide under the bed. I felt guilty and twitchy and I just wanted to take a bath or something. I almost dragged Bob out of there, but not before he asked the barista who was on stage. I hadn't asked him to do that, Bob was just the type of guy that knew things, it made me feel even worse.
But I knew the guy's name now.
Ray. It fit him, a single syllable that said so much. I don't know.
But right now Bob had gone off to work, after soothing my nerves in that wonderful Bobby way. Settling us down on the bed and stroking me all over until I felt like a pool of mush and that fucking humming in the back of my throat letting him know how good he made me feel. Then he had to go to the studio, where he did sound for random bands. Not very famous ones, 'cause he was just starting out, mostly just garage groups doing demos. But Bob was good at it, and put a hundred percent into everything he did.
I had called Frankie the second Bob was out the door,
"What's up kitty boy?"
"Can you come over?" I mumbled, fingering the bed sheet.
"Be there in a flash!"
"Aren't you even going to ask why?"
"Nope. I'm bored with Gee and Pat at work, I was gonna come over anyway."
"Oh."
"'Kay, bye!" I stared at my cell for a few seconds before sighing and slipping into some boxers. It took him less than ten minutes to get here and tackle me to the ground.
"So tell me what's got you all ruffled Mikeyway." I glared at him with no real anger,
"Get off me first." he pouted but moved to flop on the couch, patting his lap.
"Come tell Frankie what's wrong." I sat next to him.
"I saw this guy…"
"Is Mikeykins having impure thoughts about other boys?" Frank gasped, I shook my head.
"Not really. Ray, that's his name, he-he's like me…" I stared down at the floor, running hands over the end of my tail in nervous habit.
"Oh, were did you met this guy?" he didn't sound quite as surprised as I felt he should be.
"I-I didn't really," I could feel the heat in my face, "He plays at a café down the street."
"The fuck are you doing here then? Let's get down there and schmooze." he jumped up, pulling on my arm.
"Bu-but I don't, I can't. Frankie…" But all my protests were useless.
He forced me into my tightest pair of jeans, and the slimmest shirt I owned, which made me question his motives; though he could have just been doing his Frank thing. He probably would have dressed me up like that to go buy peanut butter.
"He's not gonna be there anymore Frank."
"Sure he will." he dragged me down the street, relentless.
I reluctantly told him where the café was and he barged in through the door, me in tow. I quickly scanned the room,
"See, not here, let's go." But Frank just shook his head and ordered coffee that I highly doubted he needed, pushing me onto on of the cushy sofas.
"He's probably in the can. We can wait all day, Mikeykins." I groaned, sinking further into the couch and allowing Frank to cuddle into my side like the leech he was.
I refused to look up, quietly sipping an iced coffee and responding to Frankie's chatter monosyllabically. Wishing I was anywhere but there, afraid of what I might find. Until Frank kinda squeaked right in my ear,
"Is that him?" my head shot up, "He's hot, I don't blame you for looking man, seriously."
It was Ray, he had just walked through the door and stood in line, fiddling with a curl behind one pointed ear. His eyes flicked over the room, settling on me almost instantly, fucking winking again. I tried to hide behind Frank, a task nearly impossible, 'cause the dude was tiny and that was not helpful.
"Oh, I'm gonna go ask him to sit with us."
"What? No, Frankie!" I made a grab for his arm but he shot away and was next to Ray in an instant. I hide behind my hands, quietly praying to be struck by lightning.
"Hey." the voice was honey dark, a faint accent coloring the single syllable in an unfair shade of sweetness.
I peaked between my fingers, Frank had a shit eating grin on his face and Ray was smiling so pretty.
"H-hi?"
"Why don't you sit down Ray, I gotta go do something, I'll be back in a few." fucking Frank, I would kill him one day and no one would ever find the body.
Ray's body was a warm presence, settling on the couch next to me, not too close but not far away either.
"I'm Ray," his eyes were a deep brown, and his hand was a little rough with calluses'.
"M-Mikey." his smile grew, and I found myself relaxing against my will.
"Is it safe to assume I'm the first one you've ever met?" I flushed, but he laid a hand on my shoulder and smiled with his eyes. "It's alright, man. I get it."
He steered the conversation into more familiar territory, making me feel comfortable and letting me open up on my own. Which took a surprisingly short time, with his soft accent, warm eyes and soothing words. We got into an intense music discussion, and I found myself agreeing to a jam session.
Frank did indeed come back, joining in on the talk effortlessly, though I couldn't help but notice the lack of invitation to play with us in said session.
I checked the clock on my phone and nearly had a heart attack,
"Shit, I'm gonna be late for work!" I jumped up, this was bad, I had just started at the record store, I couldn't afford to be late. There was no way I could make it there in time.
"I could give you a ride, Mikey." Ray offered, standing.
"Really? Thank you so, so much." I ran to the door, shouting a goodbye to Frankie, Ray led the way quickly to his car.
The traffic gods were merciful and I made it to the store with five minutes to spare. I hugged Ray, letting go quickly when I realized what I was doing.
"Th-thanks," I mumbled, scrambling out of the car.
"Anytime, Mikey." He leaned over and handed me something out the window. "Call if you need anything, man."
I nodded sharply, carefully stuffing the scrap of paper in my pocket, flushing.
"Um, bye I guess. Thanks again for the ride." he smiled and I made my escape into the store.
That wasn't quite as bad as it could have been, really. It wasn't like I was cheating, I could have new friends right? Bob would even get along with him, they shared the same passion for music.
But I didn't want them to be friends…I wanted Ray all to myself, as a friend. A friend.
Maybe if I said it enough times that would make it true.
Fuck, I needed Bob. Bob could make me feel less confused, I could spend time lavishing his body and not dwelling on how good Ray smelled. Not like Bob, nothing smelled like Bob, but good. Like a memory you can't quite grasp, but knew was a happy one.
The fact was I could have neither, I had to work. Maybe that could distract me…