Vinnie's going on a Date (Part 1- Short Story)

Story includes: Vinnie, Richard, Nigel, Jareth, Cole, Lori, and Henry

Warnings: outdated terms, offensive language, mature themes

~~~~

Some way, somehow, Vinnie had gotten himself a date with a tall man named Henry Smites while having his breakfast at a park. Henry had front facing ears and black hair that was combed back tight against his head, and when he smiled Vinnie noticed his teeth had yellowed just slightly.

He sat down just beside Vinnie and he suddenly began to introduce himself. He said many things for a long while, and Vinnie said nothing at all, and after some time he asked:

“How about going steady tonight?”

“Pardon?” Vinnie asked. “Me and you?”

“Right. If you fancy me that way. If you fancy men that way, hah.” he said. Then, Henry looked down at the park bench and picked a spot of chipped wood.

“Uhm,” said Vinnie, and he began to smile. “I don’t kn-”

“If you’re wanting to explore that type of thing. Lot’s of lads are doing it, y’know.”

Vinnie’s face became warm. Henry’s voice was bold and his tone was confident. Vinnie glanced down the park pathway that was lined with swaying English Oak trees, then he looked back at Henry. He wondered if his shoulders looked wide in his corduroy coat today, or perhaps his neck appeared thicker with the addition of his knit scarf.

“Alright,” Vinnie said.

“Alright,” Henry replied and showed Vinnie his cigar teeth.

After explaining to Vinnie which street to meet him on (and how to get there from the park- and also from the nearest bus stop), Henry folded his coat over his forearm and departed back down the path. Vinnie sat still with his legs crossed and the morning paper still split on his lap. He stared at Henry as he stepped over an ankle high fence, trudged through a small bed of white flowers, then stepped into the street to cross the road. A red bus honked at him politely, and he put his hand up while passing.

Vinnie pictured himself sitting across from Henry, the two looking at one another in a certain knowing way. A way in which a woman wouldn’t understand. This made Vinnie smile.

He pictured tapping Henry’s shoe with his own under a table at a restaurant, or sharing a cigarette on a walk. He imagined referring to one another as “flat mates, and nothing more,” to a questioning neighbor.

Then, Vinnie pictured two men in bed, naked,and he stopped smiling.


###

Vinnie flicked on the lights to the storage room that belonged to the second floor of the recording studio. The lights flickered then lit the room in an orange wash. The storage room had not been visited since the lads finished their last album, and the white fabric that covered the rows of instruments had grown a layer of grey dust.

As Vinnie began to enter he had to turn and step sideways. The sheets were tall, or wide, or short, and packed in close together. At one point the tip of Vinnie’s shoe hit the bottom of a covered guitar which made it hum a dissonant note.

Most of the instruments, if not all, belonged to Vinnie. Really, they belonged to the Gublenn twins, but Jareth regarded them as Vinnie’s.

“What’s it he’s wanting, now?” Nigel asked with his hand on the top of the mahogany door frame.

“Cello,” Vinnie replied. 

“Ah,” 

Nigel began to side step after Vinnie. Both men took their time lifting the tarps and  ignoring the laminated name tags Cole had stapled to each one. Dust particles swirled in the air with each lift and the yellow room began to smell like powder. Vinnie had his eye caught by a tag that read CELLO, but after raising the fabric he discovered it was his double bass instead.

“Here we are,” Nigel said. “Come on over then- uf!” Nigel gripped the neck of the Cello and lifted her off the stand.

“Hold on,” Vinnie cut through a few instruments to help Nigel support the weight at the base. Then, slowly, both men began to shuffle.

“Go on and lift it-”

“Okay-”

“Lets get it up over this-”

They began to raise her, sharing the seventy pounds between each other. Vinnie held her at her core and Nigel kept the neck up while they both moved to the door. While twisting his hips past a covered keyboard Vinnie’s arms began to strain, and he took in a breath after realizing he hadn’t breathed in a while.

“Haha, a bad back then, Nigel? Do you really?” asked Richard, who was now standing by the doorway. 

“Out of the way,” Nigel said as he began pulling the neck through the door.

“Oh- hey let me help you with that sweetheart,” said Richard, and he reached up with both hands to take the cello from Vinnie. His cologne was suddenly against Vinnie’s nose and his open collar shirt against Vinnie’s shoulder. Vinnie did not move his hands for a moment, and he would have liked to say: no, I have it fine, but instead he dropped his arms and stepped back. Richard took it from him, and the Cello raised higher.

“Little faster now, aye Nigel?” Richard said.

Vinnie stood with his hands in his pockets and occasionally took a step to follow behind both tall men. He watched Richard’s arms and how his muscles strained with the sleeves rolled up. He eyed Richard's waist, and how his ribs tapered in a funnel shape.

“We really don’t need all three of you to find one instrument!” Cole called from the first floor.

“Would you like to bring it down yourself?” Richard called back.

“Aye, come on up and show us how strong you are, Cole,” Nigel said.

They chuckled, and Cole did not reply. For the next minute Vinnie stood do

ing absolutely nothing while no one spoke to him, and he watched two men haul his cello.


###

That evening Vinnie found himself with his hands deep in his coat pockets walking down Lindatt street, then down to the corner of Warner. Despite the scarf wrapped twice around Vinnie’s turtleneck, he still felt the bite of cold against his nose. The sleek sidewalks were lined with old London street lamps who’s wicks were replaced by bulbs.

Under the warm light on the corner of Warner stood Henry, tall and dressed in a green plaid long coat. He wore a news cap- which his ears stuck out of- and he was looking down at his lighter. Vinnie pictured Jareth in the same plaid coat and news cap, and he was certain Jareth would hook a scarf around his neck to go along.

“Henry?” Vinnie said.

“Hey!-” said Henry,  “Hello. You’re like a mouse.”

Vinnie just smiled at him.

“Did you get lost?” he asked. “You’re a bit late.”

Vinnie looked down at his watch, and it was five minutes past six.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Yea, I was wondering. You could have come down the other street like I told you, would’ve been faster if you took the bus. No matter, come on then. I thought we ought to go to a jazz bar I fancy.”

Suddenly, they began to walk, and Vinnie’s head followed the cherry trees above them. They were past the blooming period in spring, and the branches looked black against the dark blue sky. It was then that Vinnie noticed Henry stopped talking.

“Do you like music?” Vinnie asked.

“Oh yea, I like all kinds of music, I’ve got a record collection going. Bout a hundred and ten now, if you’d like I could show you them sometime. Some of them are real old, from the forties even, if that’s what you like.”

“That’s near,” Vinnie said, and he meant it.

“Yea, I collect lot’s of old things.”

Vinnie pictured Jareth’s face on the cover of a record. Perhaps Henry had Primitive, or ToThine Own Self.

“Do you have a favorite genre? Of music?” Vinnie asked.

“I wouldn’t say I have a favorite genre, really. I like all music, I think music should be listened to by everyone and in all genres.”

Vinnie nodded. Then, no one said anything for a while, so Vinnie said:

“Do you like Jareth?”

“Uh not really, no. I don’t listen to modern music at all, I think all the pop is for adolescence. Or immature adults.”

“Oh. Is Jareth pop?” Vinnie asked.

“Oh yea, bit of copied rock and commercialized slock is all it is, any artist can do it. It’s easy to make.”

Vinnie nodded. He decided not to talk about that anymore.

“Do you work?” He asked.

“Ah- well I’m not working at the moment but I was last year. Architecture and all, made lots from it really.” Then Henry paused and looked down at Vinnie, so Vinnie hummed. “Yea, I’m living off of it till I finish up schooling. I’m looking into chemistry sciences.”

Vinnie and Henry walked together, side by side. Their shoes clacked on the sidewalk, and on occasion a lone walker would pass them, or a pair. Vinnie wouldnt look at them, but he would wonder if they questioned the relations of two men walking together at night. In a way, he hoped they did.

“I’ll be getting drinks, if you can have them.” Henry said.

“Alright,” Vinnie replied.

“Can you have drinks?”

Vinnie looked up at Henry and nodded. When Henry didn’t say anything, Vinnie said:

“I can, I’m twenty four.”

“Oh. Are you sure? I thought you were younger than me. You’ve got a boyish face, y’know. I thought you might still be graduating and all.”

Suddenly, Vinnie saw himself from Henry’s height. He pictured his own thin eyebrows and soft chin. He pictured long lashes and pink lips. He looked away from Henry, and asked him another question.

It wasn’t long before both men arrived outside of a dimly lit restaurant by the name of “The Smokey Cheshire,” which had a smiling purple cat painted on the front door. The restaurant was dark and warm, and a sleek but small wooden stage housed a pianist, bass player, sax player, and a drummer who was only using his symbols at the moment. Each table was dressed with dark purple fabric and topped with a small lamp. White fog swirled in the air as men and women smoked their cigarettes and cigars freely.

Henry put a hand up to the shaggy haired drummer, who showed his teeth and nodded back at him. Then, Henry placed his hands on Vinnie’s shoulders and bowed his head down to his ear.

“I’m gonna take your coat,” he said, quietly. He suddenly spoke with the gentleness of Jareth.

“Okay,” Vinnie replied, smiling, and began to shrug his coat off of his shoulders. Henry folded it over his forearm.

“C’mon, this table here.”

Henry sat them down at a booth that was tucked in the very corner of the jazz restaurant, farthest from the stage. Vinnie crossed one leg over the other and watched Henry sit down in front of him. Then, Vinnie uncrossed his legs.

“I like this spot cause lots of poofs come round here,” Henry said. Vinnie’s eyebrows raised slightly. “I go to a lot of queer spots, y’know.”

“Have you been going to them for long?” Vinnie asked.

“Oh yea, well since I got here last year. There’s lots of spots here in London really, if you know what you’re doing. Most queer men know about this one, at least the ones who are getting in bed more than once a month, aha.” 

Vinnie did not reply, but he nodded. 

“Lots of you Londoners are high classers. Used to the big houses and nice dinners. Maybe that’s why all the dates feel so formal.”

“I’m not from London,” Vinnie said.

“Ah, really? I could’ve taken you for one.”

“I’m from Liverpool.”

“Oh yea, that place is best known for its fishing, and the Beatles of course. Lucky fluke that is, music like that from little old Liverpool. If you’re ever back there you should try the cavern club.”

Vinnie nodded, and he did not tell Henry that he had been to the cavern club on multiple occasions.

For a while, no one said anything and Henry leaned back in his booth. Vinnie crossed his arms over his chest and stayed sitting straight up. He could think of no more questions, and so he said:

“I fancy men and women.”

“You know, some men are bi-sexuals, so they like to call it. They fancy both men and women.”

Vinnie nodded.

“Not just one or the other, both.”

Vinnie nodded.

“Can’t make up their minds, that lot.”

Vinnie’s brows furrowed just slightly, but he said nothing.

Just then, a man in a sleek suit vest and a pencil stache stopped at their table to ask for drink orders. 

“Two bloodhounds,” Henry said.


###

When Henry had listened to enough jazz music and ate enough food, they left the Smokey Cheshire to walk back into the chilled night.  Vinnie wrapped his scarf around his neck twice rather than once, and Henry smiled at him.

“Are you a cold Londoner?” He asked. Then, he removed his coat and slipped it around Vinnie’s shoulders. It smelt of cigarettes and a tangy after shave, and it was very warm. 

Vinnie held the coat with both hands to tighten it around his body. Then, he suddenly became aware that Henry’s coat was incredibly large compared to his body, and the sleeves hung down to his kneecaps. Vinnie’s chest began to feel weighted- just slightly- and he did not know why.

“Are you a bisexual?” Vinnie asked, suddenly.

“No, I don’t fancy women at all. I grew up with all sisters and I sometimes think it turned me flowery, y’know. It’s all frill and fluff with them, no substance, just chatter. Saying a lot while saying nothing at all, really.”

“Mm,” Vinnie hummed.

“I like transexuals though.”

Vinnie suddenly looked up at him. His brows had raised and his eyes were curious. He watched Henry’s face, and Henry looked back down at him with a grin.

It became clear to Vinnie in that moment that the taller, dark haired man knew what Vinnie was, and he had known when he sat down with Vinnie at the park.

“I’ve got lots of transvestite friends, I know a place where lots of them meet you know,” said Henry.

“Really?”

“Oh yea, does that frighten you?”

“No,” Vinnie said, and he began to smile because Henry was still looking at him.

“I could take you, I’ve got lots of transvestite friends at a spot not far from the cheshire.”

“Now?”

“Haha, they’re not open tonight, it’s a weekday Vinnie. They don’t open on the weekdays. It’s Thursday right now.”

For a long while, they walked somewhere. Henry spoke many words and said many things, and Vinnie nodded. And whenever Henry had stopped saying things, Vinnie asked him another question.

Never was their conversation quiet, and Vinnie thought of Jareth. When Vinnie was with Jareth, neither man would say anything at all, really.

It was after about seven minutes that Henry turned off of the sidewalk and began walking down a lightless alleyway that cut directly between two shop fronts. The brick walls were tall and the windows on the second stories were lightless. There was a clothing line strung between the two windows with a woman’s knitted scarf, sweater, and cardigan. They looked black in the dark alleyway, and they swayed lazily. At the exit of the alleyway was a streetlamp. It outlined Henry’s silhouette in yellow.

Vinnie stopped, and he stood very still. When Henry turned to look at him Vinnie could not make out his face.

“Well come on,” he said.

Vinnie stared at him.

“It’s a shortcut, my flats just on the other side,”

Vinnie did not move. His chopped blonde hair began to prickle like hackles. 

Vinnie felt something that was extremely particular and only known to those who must live with a certain keen awareness. It was an instant of widening of his senses.

There were no whirring cars on the street, and he could not hear the tapping of another walker. The fenced trees brustled from the breeze and a rusty gate was squealing back and forth in the wind. But that was all. The man in the alleyway looked large.

“What’s your flat address?” Vinnie asked.

“It’s just round the corner,” Henry said, turning fully now to look at him. “On East Salmon. Come on mouse.” Henry opened his arm to Vinnie.

Vinnie put his hands in Henry’s coat pockets and he began to step into the alleyway towards Henry’s figure. He walked slowly, and he did not look away from the wet glint of Henry’s eyes. When Vinnie came into his reach, Henry placed his long, heavy arm around his shoulder and they began to walk together again. The clack of their shoes echoed up the walls.

“I’ve lived here since coming to London, sometimes I hop around though.”

“Mm,” Vinnie hummed.

They walked pressed together in the alleyway towards the lamplight on the other side, which cast their shadows far back behind them. Vinnie couldn’t think, so he asked no more questions. Soon, they rounded the corner and began walking down the sidewalk again.

They stopped at a knee-high green gate that was placed in front of a quaint two story building with six windows checkered down the front. The garden was unkempt, and the mailbox was twisted slightly off of its post.

 Henry padded his pockets, then turned to Vinnie. He leaned in and slid his big hand under Vinnie’s coat and onto his waist. Vinnie immediately stepped back and covered his side with his arm.

“Hey, my keys,” Henry said.

“What!” 

“You’re wearing my coat,”

“Oh!” Vinnie said, and he opened Henry’s coat to find an inner pocket that was tucked against his waist. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered and he began to remove it.

“Wow,”

Henry slid his own coat back on while watching Vinnie’s face, then he retrieved the keys and unlocked the gate. “Its what I can afford,” he said. “So it comes with the alleyways, haha. Some Londers get paranoid about it, sours a whole night when they’re like that. Some rich lads aren’t used to how regular people live.”

Vinnie nodded, but he thought of his own flat near the recording studio which was fairly spacious and well furnished. The outside was red brick with white accents, and each window had cream colored curtains hanging in them. The front garden was done up with crocus flowers and square bushes. Vinnie even had a walk-in closet that still had empty space that he wasn’t sure how to fill in. 

And now, while standing watching Henry open the gate, Vinnie felt a deep guilt.

The green gate came open with a squeal, and Henry held it for Vinnie to come with him.

“Oh, I thought we were saying goodnight,” Vinnie said. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not coming in?”

“Uhm,” Vinnie rocked his weight back and forth. He began to smile, but he did not feel happy. “Maybe when I get to know you better… I’m sorry. I really had a wonderful time.”

“Ah, you want another date?” Henry asked, smiling too. “Are you scared I’ll forget you after I’ve had you, mouse?”

Vinnie raised his shoulders, then let them drop, and he stopped looking at Henry’s face.

“I’ll take you on another date then,” Henry said, then sighed through his nose and scratched the corner of his eye. “Night then.”

“Goodnight.”

Vinnie watched Henry hop up the small stone steps to the door, then pull it open without looking back. When he had gone, Vinnie stood and he thought. He focused deeply on the unease between his lungs.

There was something weighted and warm that was sitting just above his ribs. It pressed against the beat of his heart and made it more profound. And when Vinnie began to walk, he breathed deep through his nose and felt that he could not fill the space in his lungs.

Perhaps this weight was excitement, and perhaps Vinnie was excited. He decided on his long, cold walk that maybe he liked how this felt. He must.


###

The next day at the studio, their morning arrival was interrupted when Lori came in with the children asking to speak with Cole. And the very moment Cole stepped out to talk with Lori, Richard gave up tuning his guitar and laid on the studio couch. 

The couch itself was a concept Cole had been highly against, but after Nigel and Richard snuck one in that smelled of cat and cigar, Cole took it upon himself to purchase them a proper one. 

As Richard so often did, he began to talk about his wife, Dahlia. And somehow, he began to discuss their sex life.

“The sex isn’t what it used to be,” Richard said. “And thank god for that, I was her first date, the poor doe.”

“Better as you’re older hm?” Nigel asked, who parked his hip on the backrest of the couch.

“Well, you would say that,” Richard said, and both men laughed.

Vinnie stood away from them and slowly raised the strap of his bass guitar over his shoulder. He remained very quiet, and it was possible that neither Richard nor Nigel noticed him come in. He listened, and he stared.

They were now talking about Richard’s first blowjob.

“She told me she had plenty of times,” Richard said. “But really she hadn't, and you know how I know?”

“How’s that?” asked Nigel.

“She held it in her mouth a moment, then asked if I had finished.”

“And had you Richard?”

“I told her another minute and I would!”

Both men chuckled. 

Richard’s legs were long enough so that his head could be on one arm rest and his crossed ankles could be on the other. He held a lit cigarette between two fingers, and each knuckle had hair. Vinnie’s hands were hairless, and each finger was thin.

Nigel grinned and his mustache curled upwards on each end. His canines were sharper than most lads, and a bit crooked. Vinnie could not see his lips.

“Vinnie,” Jareth said from behind Vinnie, His tone was gentle and polite. He was holding a cup of tea that Nigel had made in the break room.

Vinnie didn’t reply but he turned to look at him. This morning, Jareth wore a light pink velvet robe with white lace on the collar and cuffs. His neck was wrapped with a thin beige scarf and rows of pearls. He looked terribly darling, and Vinnie wondered where he could purchase such a robe.

“Have you dated?” Jareth asked.

Vinnie suddenly felt like a cheater, and his affair had just been discovered. He looked down at his bass as he began plucking the string and turning the tuning dial.

“Not much, really,” Vinnie replied.

“Oh,” Jareth said.

Then, for a while, Jareth didn’t say anything more. 

Vinnie looked through his bangs at Jareth. Much like Vinnie had, Jareth stared at Richard and Nigel with no discernible expression.


###

That evening after work, Vinnie made his way back to the corner on Warner to meet with Henry who would be taking him to a drag bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would have liked to get this out in one part, but time has not been on my side! Let me know if you're interested for part two, or if you'd rather I work on a poly boys centered story :)