rainbowlounge | Closed RP

Mort laughed. "This is true." He picked up his knitting, glanced at it, then began to knit without looking. He was always more comfortable talking to people with something in his hands. "He is... ridiculously amazing. Where do you know him from, Joy, may I ask?" Then another thought struck him, and he added, "Did you tell him Aaron was a drummer, or did he do that Sherlock Holmes thing he does? You know the one I mean, right?"

"San Francisco," Joy said, and didn't elaborate. "I told him, but I do know the thing you mean, yeah. It's kind of freaky. He guessed my job right off just from the way I carry myself."

"What Sherlock Holmes thing?" Aaron asked.

"James does this thing where he'll..." Joy trailed off, and waved her hand, apparently at a loss for words. "I don't know, I can't explain it, it's just his thing."

"He's been doing it ever since I've known him," Mort explained. "We were college roomies, by the way, that's where we met. Well - basically." He chuckled; like everything else involving James, it was complicated. "It's a straight-up Sherlock Holmes... thing. He read the books as a kid and started practicing, and apparently it actually works. If you're as interested in people as James is. He can deduce stuff like--" He frowned and waved one hand vaguely, trying to think.

"Like whether somebody's going to drive or fly on a cross-country trip?" James asked mildly from behind him.

"Whoa!" Mort jumped. He hadn't even seen or heard James approach.

"Sorry! Sorry." James set down Joy's latte and Aaron's tea - the coffeeshop wasn't very busy at this hour. "Sorry, I thought you'd seen me. Really, though, you're one to talk, Mortimer. I've never deduced anyone's planned method of transportation with a slide rule." He grinned and leaned down for a kiss.

Mort kissed him crookedly on the side of the mouth. "That was different," he said. "I know you."

"Still impressive," James said, not straightening up. His eyes said, Still the goddamn luckiest thing that ever happened to me in my life - you deciding to come along and play guardian angel. Letting me know you cared.

Mort felt his ears turn hot. He coughed and nodded toward their guests. James, not the time.

Joy politely ignored the interplay; Aaron was too involved with tasting and adjusting his tea to notice. "I have got to hear this slide rule story," Joy said, prying the lid off her coffee. "And I still want to know how you knew I was a dancer just from looking at me, James. You never told me."

Mort laughed. "Don't get him started."

James winked at him - later - then stood up and walked around to his own chair. "It's really not that hard," he said to Joy. "You're built like you get regular exercise, but not at a professional-sports level: not like an Olympic athlete, for instance." He glanced deliberately at her chest, just long enough to indicate what he meant. Joy, used to following the direction of mens' eyes in her vicinity, should catch on. "You have excellent posture, you place your feet in such and such a way... but none of that's what I saw." Well, it was and it wasn't. "What I saw was--" He chuckled. "It sounds cliché, but I saw the music you hear when you walk. You dance all the time, Joy, every time you move; that's what I saw. I saw a woman who had to become a professional dancer if she could. She looks happy, so she did. She looks fit, so she's still doing it and enjoying it. That's all."

"Elementary," Mort muttered, not quite inaudible. Teasing him? James snuck a look sideways. Damn. Jealous.

"Elementary - my - dear - Mortimer," he said, leaning across the chair between them and threatening to beep Mort's nose. Mort glared cross-eyed at his finger, so he didn't, just dropped his hand on the table. "You want to tell the slide rule story, Mortimer? It's more yours than mine."

"Actually, I was going to head to the little boys' room," Mort said. James could tell it wasn't true, or not his primary reason for leaving the table.

"Let me help you up," James said. Mort didn't object, so he said, "Actually, I was too. Excuse us a minute, Joy, Aaron? Sorry." It was a flat-out lie, but a social one.

When they were well away from the table - James helping Mort along - James whispered, "Are you upset?" Want to talk about it?

"It's nothing," Mort insisted, sulky.

"...are you bothered that I brought you along? Come on, Mortimer, I won't apologize fer livin'." He wasn't sure if Mort knew the quotation, but he couldn't help throwing odd lines from musicals (and everything else) into a conversation that needed lightening up. "Just... spit it out. Please?"

They'd reached the bathroom by this time. James lounged against the wall while Mort limped over to use the facilities. It was a good excuse for Mort not to look at him.

"You dated her, right?" Mort said.

"In what sense?"

"Don't be coy. She's a hooker."

"She's a stripper. She is not a hooker. There's a big difference. But yes, I did date her. In - that sense." James let a tight breath out, slow.

"I'll take your word for it," Mort said, apparently referring to the difference between a stripper and a hooker. He zipped up his pants. "But - now you're flirting with her." He edged sideways to the sink and began to wash his hands.

James's knee-jerk reaction was to say, no, I'm just treating her like I do every pretty woman I talk to. But... well, that was flirting, in a way. He liked to praise women, flat-out openly, in a way they didn't get much from men; he thought they were all pretty, and he liked to see them smile when he told them so, and blush, and think a little better of themselves. Joy didn't need that, but she still took his compliments well because she knew they were sincere. Besides, she deserved them - she didn't get a lot of compliments without ulterior motives, in her line of work.

"I'm just talking to her like I do to every woman," he said slowly. "Is that not what you're hearing?"

Mort turned around, leaning on the edge of the sink to dry his hands. "I'm hearing you laying it on thicker than usual," he said. "That bothers me, yeah. But..." He tossed the wad of paper towels accurately in the trash can. "I guess I just don't hear you talking to women who aren't strangers much. You and Joy know each other pretty well, it makes sense you'd feel okay telling her--" He smirked sideways. "Gobs of poetry like that."

"I'm hearing a 'but'," James said. He stepped away from the wall, held out his hand: you want my help back to the table?

It was hard to see if Mort was blushing under his brown skin, but he ducked his head, looking embarrassed. "She does know we're... exclusive now, right?"

James chuckled. "Yes. Doesn't she have a boyfriend with her anyway? I wouldn't think you'd be worried."

Mort shook his head, once. "He's either gay or asexual. I was watching them while you got the drinks."

"They could be dating anyway," James said. He got his arm around Mort's shoulders and they headed back out into the coffeeshop.

"Could, but you don't sound convinced. Does she do exclusive?" Mort lowered his voice as they progressed.

"Not really, no." James chuckled.

Aaron glanced at Joy as they walked away. "Was it something I said?"

She shook her head, and sipped her latte. "No, I think it's me, actually. James and I slept together lo these many years ago--"

"--color me surprised--" Aaron muttered, and grinned when she kicked him in the ankle.

"--and I think Mort's a little unsettled by it," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "I mean, you know me. Do you mind if I flirt heavily with you?"

"Mm." Aaron rested his chin on his hands for a moment, then shrugged, and unzipped and removed his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. "Well, as long as we don't actually get back together, I'm okay with that."

"Cool," Joy said, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "You're a doll, Aaron, thanks."

Not a hooker, not... competition. Just an old friend of James's. Mort tried to relax; he knew James could feel the tension still settled in his shoulders, where James's arm wrapped around him helping him along. He knew he was being stupid, really. James knew they were, as he had said, "exclusive" - that was all that mattered. He just couldn't help being nervous around women who might get the wrong impression. Even when it wasn't him they'd be hitting on.

"Hi again!" James chirped as they reached the table. "Sorry to leave you so long."

Mort swallowed, willing his voice steady, ignoring the last of his awkwardness. "Yes, sorry. You still want to hear the slide-rule story, Joy?"

"Absolutely," Joy said, warmly, and leaned into Aaron's shoulder. "It sounds fantastic. Anything that can impress James has got to be impressive as hell."

Mort laughed, sheepish. He was about to say something self-deprecating, till he glanced over at James, who was just sitting back in his chair, looking at him. Don't be a chicken, his face said. You're amazing. Let them know.

All right, then. "Okay, we were roomies in college," Mort began, letting the last of his tension fade. "Finals week, nineteen-ninety, as I recall. I had one trig final left to go; James was done with all of his." He looked over at James again, just to see the God, I love you, how am I this lucky shining in his eyes... and, this time, to toss back a heartfelt same to you, James. He didn't really care if Joy and Aaron noticed.

"So he got a phone call," Mort said. "I was studying. I've always preferred slide rules to calculators for trig; I inherited my Uncle Pablo's, so that's what I was using. And--" Are you sure?

Go for it, Mortimer. It's your story.

It's your mother, Mort retorted, but he went on. "He came in and said his mom was in a car crash and they didn't expect her to make it. Started packing his suitcase." He stopped again. I feel stupid, James, it wasn't anything major!

Go on already, Mortimer, then more gently, It was the love of my life getting me home in time. That's major.

Mort blushed. He supposed it was. He took a deep breath... "So, well, I was thinking in math problems, you know. And - I guess if you hang around James long enough, you start doing the Sherlock Holmes thing too. At least I do. So I... I figured out the gasoline cost of driving to his home in Missouri - we were in California - versus the cost of a plane ticket on such short notice, and the odds of getting a ticket in how much time, and how long it'd take to drive. And I figured out that if we drove straight through, no stopping, it'd be quicker to drive."

"Note that word, we," James said. Mort couldn't look at him, because the love and pride and I am not going to cry over my awesome boyfriend in public in his voice was enough to deal with; he wasn't sure he could keep from sniffling himself, if he met James's eyes.

"Of course James didn't do any of that math," Mort said, "but I know him. He'd've called the airport right away, found out about standby flights. His bag was too big for a carry-on and he didn't ask to borrow mine, so I figured he hadn't got a ticket. And he can't stay put when there's trouble going on." Now he did glance across, just long enough to wink at James. "So I knew he was going to drive." He straightened up, leaned back, took a deep breath. He stared firmly at the ceiling.

"...so I figured out my GPA," he said. "Checked what'd happen to it if I skipped my trig final. Then I just... told him he needed my help, time-wise, asked if he'd let me come along."

"What Mortimer isn't telling you," James said, then paused and blew his nose. "'Scuse me. What he's not telling you is that he was a straight-A student, perfect attendance, the whole shebang. He does all this math in the time between when I tell him my mom's dying and the time when I finish throwing stuff into a duffle bag - and I don't pack neat." He chuckled. "And then he tells me, oh by the way, how about I blow off my trig final in favor of making sure you don't drive off the road in Texas somewhere? Oh, it's unweighted, he says, he'll get a B overall. No biggie."

"You're exaggerating," Mort said, embarrassed.

"I am not. Name one place I am exaggerating."

There wasn't one. Mort just blushed deeper and scooted down in his chair. "Well, you finish the story then," he said, trying to sound cranky. He couldn't, quite.

"Not much more to tell," James said. "We drove to Missouri, talked a lot... got there in time, if you were wondering. I got to see my mom again." He blew his nose, again. "House was packed, family all over the place, so we had to bunk together in the basement on a sleeper sofa. My sister Janna swears she's known we'd wind up together, from that day."

"Your sister Janna is... an excellent woman," Mort said, in a very definite I am not saying what I actually think tone of voice.

"Yeah, well," James said. I agree with both what you said and what you didn't say. "Janna's unique. Point is - though a long and complicated set of circumstances, that's the first time we talked about sexuality. Or more specifically, asexuality." Mort glanced across at him in time to see him grin broadly and nod or bow to Aaron.

I wondered if you'd noticed that, Mort thought. Aaron was wearing an AVEN t-shirt; he must have taken off his jacket while they were in the bathroom. Mort had only noticed the shirt about halfway through his story - but James, characteristically, had managed to bring it up without even sounding forced. How the hell can you even do that. He saw James looking at him, and grinned.

Aaron grinned, and lifted his cup. "Fellow aces! Now I see why Joy was so insistent."

"I didn't tell you?" Joy asked. "I could've sworn I told you."

Aaron heaved a sigh. "No, Joy. You didn't tell me."

She rolled her eyes, elbowed him in the side, and said, "That is some damned impressive work on the slide rule, Mort. I can't even work one of those things, and believe me, I tried to learn." She grinned, a little sheepishly. "My mom's an econ professor. I do believe she was a little disappointed."

Neither one of them commented on James's mother-- Joy already knew, and Aaron just gave him a sympathetic look.

"Thank you, Joy," Mort said, nodding politely. "I admit, partly I'm fond of it just because it's an entirely mechanical, portable calculator. I can't help being amazed that such a thing exists."

"There speaks the engineering student," James teased. "Not to wrench the subject at all violently around, but Aaron - you assumed we're both ace." He raised a hand quickly. "We are, by the way. But I haven't run into a lot of other aces - at all, honestly - and especially not ones who'd go for that explanation first, given that we're obviously a couple. And given how... physical we are."

"How you can't keep your hands off me, you mean," Mort joked.

Well, approximately. It was more that he couldn't keep his eyes and lips off him, but that... sounded awkward. "Anyway," James said with the most over-the-top fake long-suffering voice he had at his disposal, "Mortimer and I are the only couple I know who're both ace. I'm guessing you've met some others? If you don't mind--" he gestured-- "talking about it in the middle of an increasingly occupied coffee shop, I'm kind of curious now."

Aaron shrugged. "Well, yeah, I'm fairly involved in AVEN, and my last boyfriend was ace, too." He paused, struck by another pang of regret, and shook his head. "Anyway, no, I don't mind at all. It's... nice to talk about it with people who get it, you know? I get really stupid questions all the time, and people who don't listen to the answers."

Beside him, Joy, looking fascinated, scooted closer to Mort and began a conversation about slide rules that... well, frankly Aaron couldn't imagine what was interesting about slide rules but she seemed to like it, so whatever. He shrugged, and turned back to James.

"So, yeah, I have a lot of ace friends, and a good chunk of them are just as physically affectionate as you. Hell, I like... with my last boyfriend, and Joy, sometimes we'd just cuddle naked, because it felt nice, you know?"

"Oh my god, do I ever." James glanced over at Mort, who was clearly getting well into the intricacies of slide rules. He'd probably pull out his ever-present carpenter's pencil and start scribbling diagrams on the napkins soon. "Mortimer used to feel pretty awkward about it, I think, but... well, you heard our story." James grinned. "I think I left out why we were talking about asexuality, though. Specifically, I was pretty broken up about my mom - as you'd expect - and I, um, stole his pillow to cuddle it. In my sleep." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "So he wakes me up and says, hey, give me back my pillow, you can hug me instead. Which we did. Only, well, my sister Janna walks in on us in the morning and what she sees is her brother and her brother's roomie cuddling in their underwear. So she... uh, mentioned it." James snorted with laughter. "Poor old Mortimer. He was not what you'd call queer-friendly, at the time - wasn't raised that way. So I wound up telling him hey, it's fine, I'm not into guys that way. And--" He shrugged. "It's me. I'm not that closeted. I threw in that I'm not into girls that way either." It'd been how many years now? He still had to stop and grin. This memory would never get old. "You should have seen his face. He looked like a groundhog seeing his shadow for the first time, and then he looked like... I don't know, Dorothy not being in Kansas anymore. You know how it is? When you figure it out - I mean, I've always known myself that I was ace, but other people. It's always magical, that look on their faces. The truth will set you free."

He glanced down at the table and took a sip of his neglected coffee. "Sorry, I'm kind of rambling on."

Aaron laughed, and shook his head. "No, don't worry, I have a sister who can't shut up, I'm used to listening."

He leaned his head on one palm, thoughtfully. "I gotta say, I never... finding out that asexuality was a thing... I understand how he must have felt, I mean. I've been ace my whole life, but I thought it was because something was wrong with me, you know? Especially after..." Lorelai, he wanted to say, but hello awkward sexual encounter that probably nobody wanted to hear about, and that he really wished certain people in his life didn't know about, like Ivy. "Once I found out that there were other people like me, that it was a legitimate orientation and not something broken, it felt amazing. Like coming home."

James nodded. "It's... I know how that is. Kind of. I never - well, I guess we all feel broken sometimes. I did, in high school. But it wasn't - you know, Mortimer was the first other ace I met for sure, that I knew about. I was just..." He laughed. "Stubborn as hell, or something, because I was just, well, he likes boys and she likes girls and he likes both of them, why can't I like none of them that way? And all of them at once, in my own way. I actually made up the word 'asexual' for myself. Time I met Mortimer, I was pretty secure in my sexuality."

Aaron smiled, and looked down at his coffee. "I wish my self-discovery had been that painless. I mean, not my family, they were cool-- I mean, my mom told me it did not excuse me from giving her grandchildren, but you know moms-- but... everyone else, you know?"

He thought of Lorelai, of her sweet coaxing face and tone, and shivered. But James didn't want to hear about his sexual traumas. In fact, nobody did. "I found AVEN eventually though. That was a huge relief, knowing there were other people like me. Now I just sort of assume it."

James reached across the table, stole a napkin neatly out of the stack by Mort's elbow - the ones not yet covered in scribbled calculations and diagrams, as opposed to the scattered ones Mort and Joy were still chattering avidly about - and started folding it neatly into an origami crane, looking at his hands instead of Aaron's face.

"You know, Aaron," he said slowly, "feel free to smack me down, but I get the impression you might like to know that I'm practically impossible to embarrass." He chuckled. He wasn't going to mention the time he'd spent exploring the San Francisco kink scene, at least not till he knew more about Aaron's embarrassment thresholds. "And I do know how to keep my mouth shut, contrary to appearances. If you want to talk about, y'know, whoever gave you a hard time or whatever..." Now he did look up. "I'm listening."

"It's not..." Aaron stopped, considering, tapping his fingers on his paper cup of tea. "It's... not embarrassing, precisely. It's kind of... I had this girlfriend, once, and she had very specific ideas about how a relationship should go." He glanced at Joy, who was fortunately too involved in her conversation to be listening. "She... there was pressure."

James grimaced sympathetically. "Yuck. Yeah, I know... not personally, I guess I've been really lucky, but I know how that goes." He very carefully didn't glance over at Mort; no identifying information, if he didn't have explicit permission to give it. Not even hints. That was his first rule of talking about other aces' experiences to anyone.

"I've even heard about an ace who got... assaulted by their prom date," he said. "Took the invitation as a come-on, I guess. I'll grant you, a lot of the time that's what it is, but sheesh!" He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Ask, people, why don't you!" He finished up with a wry commiserating grin in Aaron's direction.

"Ugh, for God's sake." Aaron put his head down on the table and thunked his head gently against it for a moment. "At least mine.. ugh, well, you said you're unembarrassable, I'm going to take you at your word. My girlfriend at the time wanted to have sex and she convinced me that... I should try it once, you know? But God, it was the grossest and most embarrassing thing I've ever done. And she just didn't seem to be able to understand it."

James winced in sympathy. "Man." He reached out to pat Aaron's shoulder, then stopped, raising his eyebrows: you mind?

Aaron shook his head, even moved just a bit closer.

James patted Aaron's shoulder - well, something between a pat and a squeeze, really. "I am so sorry, man. That sucks." He was silent for a minute, just resting his hand on Aaron's arm.

Mort and Joy were still talking; that is, Mort was talking at the moment. "So Noah says to the snakes, 'I thought I told all you animals to go forth and multiply.' And the snakes say, 'We can't, we're adders.'"

"Wait for it," James muttered under his breath. Mort must really be having fun if he was breaking out the math jokes.

"So Noah built them a log table."

Joy burst into laughter, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "Oh, God, my mother's going to love that one. Did you hear that, Aaron?"

"I did," he said, grinning, "and what's more, I got it."

She stuck her tongue out at him, still grinning.

Closed RP

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