My second contribution to the YuBo wave! This time, something a little more light-hearted. Enjoy!
Bryan Kuznetsov sighed as, for the third time that morning, one of his carefully crafted displays fell over. Already, his stacks of discount garden furniture had been toppled. And as if that hadn't been enough to deal with, just as he'd stacked the last chair some idiot had knocked over a rack of nails and it had taken Bryan no small amount of time to put them all back in the right place again.
This new disturbance seemed to have happened outside in the garden section judging by the pained yelling coming from that general direction. Knowing that he would be fired on the spot if a customer complained while it was his shift, Bryan sprinted to aid the unfortunate member of the public who had come to grief among the peonies. Upon arriving outside, the dilemma became clear- someone had knocked over the rather large display of plant pots. And that someone was currently lying on the floor with one of the larger pots over his face and a slightly smaller one on his chest. Another one was balanced precariously between his leg and the stand. He was groaning and moving one arm feebly, evidently a little dazed.
Bryan removed the pot from the poor customer's head to find a pretty face currently twisted into a pained grimace. "Are you okay?" He asked, although the answer was quite obvious. "Um..." He debated over what to call the individual he was currently hovering over. Then, in the end, settled for being respectful. "Sir?"
"I'm covered with plant pots and my ankle feels like it's been through a mangle. Don't let the groaning fool you, I'm completely -fine-!" Was the hissed reply. Bryan shoved the other plant pots away, sighing as the furious redhead sat up. "Is it company policy to stack things so they fall on top of people?"
"No sir. I'm very sorry sir."
"You bloody will be! Now help me up!"
It was all Bryan could do to obey the imperious command, taking hold of the young man warily and pulling him up. "Can you walk on it? ...Sir?"
"Stop calling me sir!" Oh heck. Another respectful term, another respectful term...
"Mister?" The redhead closed his eyes and sighed.
"No. Don't call me mister either, just shut up and help me find somewhere to sit! Christ, do they pay you to act like a moron?"
Bryan glowered; making to attempt to move as the young man hobbled a couple of steps. Obnoxious customers, he felt, deserved no special treatment. He had to quickly revise that opinion, however, when the obnoxious customer keeled over, crying out in pain and grabbing a nearby trellis for support. "Sir-"
"For God's sake stop calling me sir! My name's Tala!" Gasped the redhead, leaning against the trellis so as to be able to slide down it. He sat on the floor, gnawing his lip, then undid his bootlaces and slipped off his boot. A violently orange sock followed, and Bryan could see Tala's ankle. It was already swollen and looked incredibly sore. Guiltily, Bryan looked down. It had been his display that had done the damage...
"Bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard!" The expletives somehow seemed to make Bryan's common sense kick in. He knelt down beside Tala, reaching out to touch his ankle, wanting to see if it was broken. But his fingers had barely brushed the skin when Tala whimpered. It was then that Bryan noticed he was shivering. "Are you cold?"
"N-No it just b-bastard hurts!" Bryan had been living in England for most of his life, and so knew exactly what to do in that situation.
"Look, come inside and I'll make you a cup of tea."
"I d-don't like tea!"
"Coffee then. Can you walk, or...should I carry you-?"
"I can walk!"
Tala managed to get to his feet, but staying there proved to be a problem. Bryan caught him as he fell, lifting him awkwardly over one shoulder and trying to avoid touching any areas that might lead to lawsuits about sexual harassment. Through the automatic doors, round the bathroom suites, along the wallpaper aisle, past the power tools and finally into the staffroom they went, Bryan's feet squeaking on the laminate flooring as they went.
He deposited Tala on the comfiest chair in the room and flicked the kettle on. While he waited for it to boil, he knelt down beside Tala again. "Do you...think it's broken?"
"I don't know, I j-just know it hurts like hell!"
"I'll have to go and ask my manager what I should do...I, uh...I'll be back in a minute..."
Ten minutes later he slunk back into the room looking rather sorry for himself. "She says I have to look after you until you feel up to going home. And that the taxi fare's coming out of my wages." Tala regarded him for a second, then sighed.
"Can you make me that coffee then? It might stop me shivering..."
As Bryan hovered over the rumbling kettle he looked over at Tala. The redhead's face was drawn with pain, but still handsome. And he was certainly fit, to judge from his weight and build. He had seemed horrible, but Bryan wondered if that wasn't more likely to be the pain talking. After all, if it hurt enough to make him shake it must be pretty bad...
And...well, he -looked- gay, but Bryan had learned from experience and a broken nose that just because people -looked- gay didn't mean they -were- gay. Still, the general timing of Tala hurting himself seemed like such a perfect opportunity...almost as if someone up there had taken pity on him and-
"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to make me that coffee?"
"Um. Sorry s...Tala." Bryan forced himself not to blush as he made the mugs of steaming coffee, keeping his eyes down and observing the orange glare of his uniform. He carried the cups over slowly, giving one to Tala and putting one on the windowsill. The redhead took a grateful sip, then looked up. "You're the first person I've met in forever that makes a decent cup of coffee."
Bryan didn't quite know how to reply to that. Forsaking words he dragged over another chair and set it before Tala. "You should put your foot up on that." The redhead did so, wincing. Then sat back with a sigh.
"I've always had pathetic ankles. I blame my mother."
"Mm." Bryan replied, wondering how angry Tala would be if asked about his sexuality.
"Talkative, aren't you? Why don't you sit down?" Bryan did so, feeling like a prize chump. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Bryan. Look, I'm sorry about the plant pots-"
"You will be when I sue." Bryan looked up, heart thudding in his chest. "Joke. Don't look at me like that; I'm not really going to sue you. You're far too handsome for that." Bryan blinked at his coffee, not daring to look up.
"Do you..." 'Really think so?' was on the tip of his tongue, but common sense replaced it with "Want a biscuit?"
"Yeah, go on then."
Feeling awkward, Bryan went over to the cupboard on the other side of the room. "Um..." He cleared his throat, turning his head to look at Tala. "What kind do you want? Ginger snap? Digestive? Ch-"
"I want one of the ones on the bottom shelf." Tala overrode him. Bryan did not see how that request could be interpreted as anything other than pervy. He bent, blushing slightly, picking up the open packet of fig rolls, then straightened up again. He turned to find Tala's eyes fixed on him and blushed slightly, taking the biscuits over while looking at the wall above Tala's head. "I meant the other ones. The other ones on the bottom shelf." Bryan turned away, red in the face.
"You just want me to bend over!" He cried accusingly.
"Consider it compensation. And if you objected at all you wouldn't have bent over the first time." Bryan glared at the wall. "I must admit, you don't strike me as the gay type..."
"Well. Appearances can be deceptive." Bryan said shortly. "I'll phone you a taxi."
"No, don't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to. The customer is always right, the one you injured even more so. Your manager said you had to look after me, didn't he?"
"He didn't say I had to let you sexually harass me."
"Sexually harass you?" Tala laughed, and while it was a nice sound it made Bryan growl. "That wasn't sexual harassment. This is though." Bryan yelped and jumped away as a hand grabbed his backside, turning to stare in incredulity as Tala smirked. "See? Now why don't you sit down and talk to me?" He patted the chair to his right and dutifully Bryan sat, wondering why he was letting this slender stick of a devilishly handsome man order him around. Wait...
"So, Bryan...top or bottom?"
"What?"
"Top or bottom. Do you like to give, or take, or both?" Bryan merely stared. He had gathered in the past half an hour or so that Tala was a pushy person. And, yes, a pervert. But not... "Am I embarrassing you?"
"No."
"Yes I am. You're blushing. It's a simple question, isn't it?"
"Not one someone I don't know would normally ask me."
"Aah, shy, are we?" Bryan felt a hand clamp over his thigh and gulped.
"Could you not do that?"
"I could...but I'm not going to. I haven't met anyone else gay since I moved here, so..."
"Um...when did you move here?"
"Fortnight ago. Anyway, seeing as I've been blessed with the opportunity of some fun-"
"Not with me!" Bryan exclaimed, leaping to his feet and shifting away.
"Why?" Tala blinked at him. "If you're already taken, I don't mind threesomes."
"No!"
"No to threesomes or no to being attached?"
"Both!" Tala regarded him with a smirk.
"You're so shy it's adorable!" Bryan looked away. "If I stop feeling you up will you sit down again?" And so Bryan sat, warily. Tala paid him little attention this time, apparently more concerned with his ankle. "I can move it a bit, so it isn't broken. It'll be a hell of a sprain though..."
"Mm."
"Anyway..." Tala smiled, turning towards Bryan as much as he could without moving his leg. "Tell me about yourself." Bryan couldn't help but stare.
"You're in pain and still shivering and yet you're still in the mood to flirt with me?"
"Bryan, I'm -always- in the mood to flirt! So tell me something I don't know. Your whole name, that'd be a start!"
"Bryan Kuznetsov."
"That's a Russian name!"
"Ah...yeah. My Dad's Russian." Tala gasped.
"Mine is too! So we're both half Russian? Definitely a spiritual connection there. Ivanov and Kuznetsov. Definitely a connection." Tala then proceeded to give the fakest yawn Bryan had ever heard, raising his arms up and dropping them again, one now miraculously around Bryan's shoulders.
"That...was lame." He commented.
"But now I have my arm around you and you haven't told me to sod off yet, so as a result...not lame."
"You're very...forward."
"Not really. I just know what I want, and right now what I want is you." Bryan laughed, shaking his head.
"Lame as well."
"You're smiling though." Bryan considered this. Tala seemed, despite his earlier assumptions, to be quite nice, if a little predatory. "If I kiss you, will it piss you off?" Make that more than a little...
Bryan knew that the appropriate answer to the question was yes. He didn't know Tala, and so... "No." Before he realised what he had said, Tala had cupped his cheek, turning Bryan to face him. Their eyes met for a brief second, then Tala moved, lips touching against Bryan's delicately.
"I think you should call that taxi for me now." Bryan felt slightly cheated and mightily puzzled.
"You..."
"Taxi?"
"Uh...taxi. Right." Bryan stood, letting Tala's arm drop from his shoulders.
Ten minutes later, Bryan collapsed onto the chair Tala had been occupying and sighed. The redhead had gone from feeling him up to chatting him up to acting as if nothing had happened! It was all so confusing...especially the part where Tala had insisted Bryan carry him to the taxi. He had -wriggled-. And...
Bryan bowed his head. Like a complete fool, he had asked Tala if he wanted his number. The resulting 'no' had been crushing, but not that long before; Tala had been practically molesting him! What did the redhead expect him to think after that?
Still sighing, he got up to go and sort out the plant pot display. It was then that he realised that Tala had left behind his boot and his sock.
Oh, bugger...
It took an awful amount of time and a four pack of lager for the taxi driver to tell him where he'd taken Tala, and a further £5.60 to be taken there himself, but eventually he ended up outside a house. It was pretty normal looking, semi detached, shrubby front garden, green paintwork...
Feeling like an utter moron, he knocked. At first he thought no one was going to answer it, but footsteps approached and the door swung open. "Yes?"
"Um." Bryan looked up at the woman before him timidly. "Is...Tala there?"
"TALAAA!" Bryan jumped and took a step back at the stentorian roar that erupted from the young woman's mouth. She -had- to be Tala's sister- same flaming hair, same nose, same piercing eyes...
"WHAT?" Came an answering yell from up the stairs.
"THERE'S SOMEONE AT THE DOOR AND THEY HAVE YOUR SHOE!"
Bryan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, slightly nervous. He jumped again as the voice from upstairs rang out again. "WHAT?"
"GET DOWN HERE!"
Muffled cursing and a few thuds later, Tala appeared at the top of the stairs. "-What-, Irina?" The young woman turned, flinging out an arm to point at Bryan that nearly hit him in the face.
"I don't know who he is but he has your shoe. Sort it out."
Tala looked down at Bryan, sighing. "Well you'll have to come up because I can't come down." Feeling like the worst kind of idiot, Bryan climbed the stairs until he was standing beside Tala.
"You...left your shoe. And your sock." His reply was a fierce kiss that nearly made him fall over. Following that he dropped the shoe in favour of prying Tala away. "Why do you keep..." Confusing me? Playing with me? "Kissing me?"
"Because...yeah, she was a -nice- girl but we broke up because of her -father-, he didn't like me!"
"What?" Bryan backed away nervously, feeling sure that Tala was mad. The redhead just pointed below himself and beckoned, limping away along the landing. Bryan went after him, confused and slightly nervous.
Tala's room was a neat, tiny square with only a bed, a desk and a wardrobe in it. Bryan hovered in the doorway as his host collapsed onto the bed and put his foot up on a stack of cushions obviously intended for that purpose, then pretended not to notice Tala shoving the dirty magazine he had evidently been reading down the side of the bed. "You sitting down or what? I take it you want to know why I was acting like that before?"
"Well I came to give you your shoe but if you'd care to explain I'd like to hear it." Bryan replied, looking down at the fawn-coloured carpet at his feet.
"Then come and sit down."
Once Bryan was sitting beside him Tala flumped back onto his pillows, sighing. "Thing is, Bryan...my family don't know I'm gay. And I'm staying with my sister until I can find somewhere to rent. So..." One pale hand found Bryan's thigh and squeezed. "I like you. But if my family find out I fuck guys I don't think they'll be too happy. Kinda remembered that when I went to kiss you before...
"So why did you kiss me just then?"
"Lust. You are hot, after all. And you never did answer my question. Top or bottom, Bryan?" Much to his own disgust, Bryan blushed furiously.
"I've never been either."
"With a body like that? I don't believe you."
"It's true." Tala hmmed.
"Come here." Without quite knowing why, Bryan let Tala pull him to sit between his legs, chest to Bryan's back. "I meant it, you know. You're really hot." Warm hands slipped under his shirt. "Do you work out?"
"Why are you-? Your sister-"
"She was just going out when you got here. So...do you work out?"
"No...but...at work..."
"I don't like your work, Bryan. You have to wear such a stupid outfit..." Bryan didn't quite know what to say as Tala stripped him of his shirt and tossed it away, hands sneaking up Bryan's front.
"Tala, I-"
"Shh. One second, Bryan." Tala let go of him for a few seconds, leaning back away from him. But then... "There." Bare skin pressed up against Bryan's back, making him shiver. And then one of Tala's hands slipped down, heading for his waistband. But Bryan was too lost in the moment to say anything. Tala spent a little longer just stroking his skin, and then...
"I want to fuck you." It took Bryan a while to register that as Tala's hand made a sudden invasion into his boxers, making him gasp and wriggle away, panicked.
"I...um...I..." He felt his face turn bright red, cheeks burning. Tala just stared at him, and then a look of horror crossed his face.
"Bryan, how old are you?"
"Nearly seventeen..."
"Oh. Oh good." The worry melted away from Tala's expression. "Thought for a second you were...you know, younger..." Bryan, already doing a passable imitation of a cherry, blushed harder.
"I have to...to go."
"Where?" Without looking at the redhead, Bryan picked up his shirt and dragged it on, feeling as if he were about to cry. The worst thing was that he wasn't sure why, either. "Bryan, where are you going?"
"Away!"
"What for?" Tala asked, bewildered eyes following Bryan to the door of the room. "Bryan-"
But Bryan was gone.
He lay in his bed that night, wondering why he had run away. Wondering why Tala had liked him like that. Wondering why he had let Tala touch him and kiss him. It was all so sudden and strange...
And when Tala had asked his age...well, how old was Tala anyway?
Bryan rolled over, sighing. So confusing. But...he had -liked- Tala, after the initial...no, -continuous- feeling of awkwardness he had felt around the redhead. And Tala had seemed to like him as well. But everything had happened so fast...he'd just panicked, and now...well, Tala obviously wouldn't want a relationship with him. He was too inexperienced, too immature...
Wait, relationship?
With another sigh, Bryan rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. He certainly wanted a relationship with -someone-, but Tala? Not after that, obviously. Tala just thought of him as a silly child...
It seemed strange that he had met Tala just a few hours previously and he was thinking these kinds of thought about him.
As sleep claimed him, he wondered why Tala had said he was hot. No one had ever called him that before...
Four days passed, and though Bryan was at work for all of them, Tala made no reappearance. As the fifth morning dawned he told himself rather sternly to stop thinking about Tala. What had happened had all been some kind of big misunderstanding.
The journey to work was given over to telling himself off for thinking that the brief and painfully embarrassing encounter he had had with Tala counted for anything. Then he spent the first hour of his shift cleaning the floors with abnormal vigour in an attempt to stop thinking. Then he moved onto tidying up the staffroom, whereupon the loudspeaker sounded. "Bryan Kuznetsov to the garden department, customer waiting." Which meant 'get your ass over there damn fast'. So Bryan sprinted out there, only to run into someone. The impact sent them both sprawling to the ground.
"You trying to sprain my other ankle as well?" Bryan stared. Tala. He was...sitting on top of Tala...
"Sorry!" He gasped, scrambling up. What on Earth was Tala doing there?
Buying whatever he was -going- to buy last time he came, said a nasty little voice in his head. "Do you...do you need help carrying something?" He asked as Tala got to his feet.
"No. I...look, I came to apologise for what happened the other day. I should have thought about it before I started trying to rush you into anything. If I promise to keep my hands to myself, you want to meet up after work?" Bryan stared at him. "I...well...it's been hard, moving here. I guess I was a bit desperate...and a lot lonely. I'm sorry about what I did."
"Oh."
"So...give me another chance? I'm going to be hanging around anyway. I told Irina about being gay yesterday- when my ankle was good enough to run on. She's...not taking it too well so I'm contriving to be out."
"Your ankle...I forgot..." Tala couldn't have come before even if he'd wanted to! So maybe... "I'm on till dinnertime. Half twelve."
"Well there's a cafe round the corner..."
"I-I'd like that." Bryan paused. "How old are you, Tala?"
"Nineteen. Why?"
"You asked me. So I'm asking you."
Tala regarded him with a smirk. "Fair enough. And now you can help me choose exactly which plant pot I want. Last time I looked they all fell on my head... He reached out and turned Bryan round, pushing him along in front. "You can go first, just in case. It's dangerous out there, I'm still limping from the last time..." Bryan was about to protest when Tala's hands grasped his hips, pushing him forwards.
"Tala, what are you doing?"
"Feeling you up in a more socially acceptable way." Replied the older Russian, hugging him tightly and then letting go. "Now, plant pots. I'm thinking terracotta, I'm thinking patterned, I'm thinking big enough for my cactus."
"Your cactus?"
"My cactus."
Bryan laughed, leading Tala towards the teetering display. Lunch, he decided, would be fun.
Fin