Seth Morrigan climbed out of his small, beat up red Toyota, the chill of the early December wind slicing effortlessly through his light jacket. He shivered a little, regretting that he hadn’t brought a scarf or worn a heavier coat.
Checking the time on his phone, he saw that he was ten minutes early for his blind date. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for what he dreaded was going to be a very uncomfortable evening. Seth hated blind dates but Lance, his friend since elementary school, had arranged one for him. Despite Seth’s insistence that he was too busy to date anyone right now.
Lance had been persistent. And…for whatever reason, Seth just couldn’t say no to a request from him, which had him often acquiescing to many absurd demands. He and Lance had always been thick as thieves, ever since that first fight in elementary school.
He smiled, thinking back on it. They became friends in second grade. Lance had transferred in the middle of the year, but had fallen right into the groove of things as if he had always been around. He was charming like that. Seth hated him for it, for so easily slipping into the group. He knew now that he had been envious of Lance. Envious of how all the kids in the class, boys and girls alike, seemed to accept him and follow him around. In only a few weeks Lance had become the most popular second grader in school. It seemed like everyone liked Lance. It just made Seth hate him more.
Seth had a crush on a girl and had been trying, as 2nd grade boys will, to garner her attention with bullying. He found out much later that Lance wasn’t even interested in this girl, but for whatever reason, he pursued her, too. Maybe it had been because Seth was the only kid that wouldn’t be friends with him. Maybe just because he was Lance. Either way, Lance challenged him to a duel over the right to court her. Literally… seven year old Lance had walked up to him before class and, with the overly dramatic swagger that Seth now always associated with Lance, declared his challenge to duel over the fair maiden Brooke. Brooke was a cute girl with blond ponytails. Seven year old Seth had no idea what a duel, or courting was. He shrugged it off, but Lance was persistent.
Lance won him over when he mentioned that they would fight like fine knights for the right to kiss Brooke. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to kiss Brooke, as second grade girls were notorious for cooties, but he quite liked the idea of getting to fight Lance. They dueled during the next recess, the two fighting each other using sticks like swords. He was sure he was winning when their teacher came, tearing the two apart and breaking their swords over her knee. They abruptly found themselves together staring at a brick wall for the rest of recess.
They still fought to this day over who actually won the duel, a moot point as the maiden in question had no interest in either of them. They had been fast friends since, inseparable.
They were so inseparable that they were both pursuing their Master’s degrees from the same university, where they had been students for the last six years. They had different majors, of course, but Lance was always nearby, and there was hardly a day went by where they didn’t communicate in some way or another.
Seth’s schedule this semester had been particularly draining, with a combination of classes, lab work and teaching, with the additional pressure of his impending graduation and research defense looming on the horizon. Lance, being his normal busybody self, had suggested that he find a way to relax. And, of course, he already had something in mind for Seth. It just wasn’t the something that Seth had anticipated.
A blind date…totally not his style. When Lance had suggested it, he had laughed it off as a joke. And then, well, it wasn’t a joke anymore.
Which was he found himself currently standing outside of Kintsugi, a high-end sushi joint which was substantially out of his price range. His wallet would be much, much thinner after this evening was over, of that he was sure.
Lance had offered to loan him some money, because of course he did, but Seth had declined. Lance’s family was well off, and their differing financial status had always made him feel a little inferior. And mostly, Seth had been trying to use the prohibitive cost to politely excuse himself, anyway.
The drain on his wallet was only one of the things that he dreaded about tonight. He hated blind dates, although this one was actually his first. But just the idea of blind dates sounded horrible. Seth was under the impression that the only people who actually liked them were those types of meddlesome folk who already had stable and possibly bland relationships and were looking to vicariously spice up their own lives.
Oh, those types and Lance. Lance would go on a blind date, Seth was sure of it. He would make the most of it, then, when the night was over, he would ghost the girl. Seth rolled his eyes. Everything was easy for Lance, who had girls falling all over him wherever he went.
Lance always seemed to worry too much about him, too, like an overprotective parent. He wanted Seth to find a girlfriend now? Seth found himself wondering what had changed. Lance was definitely not the kind of guy to be in a long-term relationship with a girl, so why was he so concerned that Seth should all of a sudden. He knew Lance too well, the whole thing smelled fishy.
Besides, he didn’t have time to date anyone, anyway, not if he wanted to graduate on time.
When Seth pointed this out, Lance he had blown it off with a wave of his hand, countering that he knew Seth hadn’t had even casual flings with anyone since the semester had begun.
Lance had always been different, but as much as he had tried to hate him as kids, and as meddlesome and tiring could was occasionally as an adult, Seth loved him like a brother. He couldn’t help but feel always a strange attraction to him. Everyone did. Life was just more colorful with Lance around.
So, even though the prospect sounded about as much fun as a root canal, Seth had reluctantly accepted his suggestion. Lance said he knew just the girl for him. That was doubtful, though, as Lance was definitely not the kind of guy to stick around with any girl long enough to know if she was relationship material. But, as usual, he found himself unable to say go against his best friend’s request.
Seth checked his phone again, hunched up against the cold. He walked up to the door and stood to the side, waiting for the mystery girl to arrive. She was already five minutes late. A secret hope kindled inside him. Maybe she wouldn’t show up. Hope was followed by a sour feeling at the thought of being rejected by a complete stranger. He chuckled at his own duplicity.
It was Lance’s suggestion that they go to Kintsugi. He spoke of a ‘premonition’ he had that Seth would find true love there. Lance was always a sap when it came to true love. He had been obsessed as a kid with fairy tales of knights and princesses, elves, dragons and wizards, and most of all, true love. Seth rolled his eyes at the thought. Storybook love was just that, a fairy tale. Real people were fickle and flighty, volatile and ever-changing. Lance’s obsession with true love was truly ironic.
Seth’s phone buzzed in his hand, distracting him from that line of thinking. There was a text from his date for the night, a girl ironically named Brook. No ‘e’, this time.
Hey Seth, it’s Brook. So sorry. Can’t make it. Something came up. Sry! c u next time? k, thx. He rolled his eyes as he read.
Then…he breathed a sigh of relief. So much for the blind date. Feeling both relief and rejection, he tucked his phone away. He turned to leave, but something pulled on him. A tingle on the back of his neck, a feeling in his gut, something that he couldn’t quite place, kept him standing in place instead of walking to his car.
Seth hesitated, peering inside as a couple entered. He was already here, right? He may as well go inside.
No, this place was too expensive for him. Maybe he should just go home.
He turned to go, then changing his mind about going in, then turned to go, then hesitated again. He just had this feeling. He should stay, it wouldn’t hurt to just go in and look around. He should cancel his reservation, right? That was the right thing to do.
Decision made, he shrugged and went to the door. He should at least cancel the reservation, it was the right thing to do, he repeated to himself. He was going to be a responsible adult, he told himself. He couldn’t shake the feeling, though, the tingle on the back of his neck. He felt strangely compelled to enter. Acquiescing to the compulsion, he pulled open the big golden handled glass doors to the restaurant and went up to the hostess.
“Name for your reservation?” the hostess asked without looking up from the computer behind the podium.
“Um, Seth Morrigan,” he said, cringing as his reply came out sounding like another question.
The hostess, a dark-skinned girl who couldn’t be more than eighteen years old, poked a few times at the screen. “Party of two?” she asked.
“Um…my date stood me up. Party of one?” He flashed a smile that he hoped said ‘just got stood up but am taking it in stride’.
She looked up at him, then at the empty space next to him. “Oh,” she said simply.
“She, um,” Seth replied, for some reason feeling the need to explain himself, “she just sent me a vague text. Like, two minutes ago.” God, this was embarrassing. He tried to hide his embarrassment with a crooked smile.
She smiled apologetically at him. “You know,” she said after a moment, “there is nothing sadder than a table for one on a date night.”
He almost turned around and left. Her comments had really hit home. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place. And now, some teenage hostess had to rub it in. He frowned, ready to leave. But…he couldn’t make himself go for some reason.
There was a breeze behind him as another couple came in. He was beginning to feel more than awkward. The hostess continued on, seeming to take his situation personally, “I mean, how horrible can someone be! A text break up, that is pretty low. So impersonal, you know? Oh, I’m sorry,” she said abashedly.
She leaned across the podium, motioning for him to come closer. He leaned in and she whispered to him conspiratorially, “That was really unprofessional. I just, well, I know how you feel. My ex broke up with me in a text. I’m sorry. You know, maybe you could sit at the bar if you wanted? I think it’s got nice atmosphere, and it’s better than sitting by yourself.” She looked up at him hopefully.
He looked behind her into the room. A wall divided the dining room from the foyer. The room beyond was comfortably lit, filled with dozens of small round tables located strategically around small sand colored stone pathways. There was a waterfall in one corner that fell gracefully into a small stream which wound around room, weaving between tables and under small raised foot bridges along the stone pathways. The comforting ambient sound of falling water filled the space and blended together with the noise of dining patrons. Between the tables were shaped shrubs, artfully pruned bonsai, completing the illusion of the space as a beautiful Japanese garden.
Seth glanced back at the hostess, quizzically, as he failed to see the bar of which she referred. She laughed a little as he looked, and then pointed to a small hallway with a discreet restroom sign. “Go back down that hallway past the bathrooms. Just keep going and you’ll find the bar. It’s our best kept secret,” she told him with a wink. “Sorry about your date…”
“Thanks,” he said, nodding to her.
He stepped around the podium and headed down the small hallway. The sound of the waterfall faded into the background and the atmosphere changed subtly. He found himself stepping into a cozy, dimly lit room with deep red walls. It was only slightly larger than his parent’s living room back home, and it had the same kind of feeling. Homey and comfortable. He liked it immediately.
He stood in the hallway, unsure of the protocol for entering the space. There were a few cozy looking black topped round tables circled with small, deep red padded chairs in the center of the room. Along the wall in front of him was a black topped bar underlit with a strip of red light, eight red padded full-backed bar stools lined up neatly before it. A huge mirror with glass shelves stacked high with various liquors was backlit in a dark red hue behind the bar. A small mirrored door topped with a glowing red ‘exit’ sign adorned the corner opposite of the bar, obscuring the view outside.
Music played lightly in the background, some type of J-pop, he imagined. It had that certain candy feeling to it that he associated with asian pop music, and he couldn’t quite catch any words he recognized.
The whole room felt intimate and exclusive, and he quickly considered quietly leaving the way he came, afraid to break the atmosphere with his presence. There were only a few patrons; a group of three women sitting around one of the cozy tables and two men at the bar. The women were lost in conversation, and though he could not make out what they were saying, he could hear them murmur conspiratorially as they leaned in seriously over the table. Both the men sat at the bar thumbing unsociably on their phones.
He should leave. This place, it had this solemnity to it that he just couldn’t bring himself to interrupt with his presence. As he turned to go, the conspiring women burst out in cacophonous laughter, causing the bartender to look up. He was a slim man wearing an almost comically stereotypical bartender uniform, a crisp white shirt with a snappy black tux vest. His shoulder length dirty blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. He had boyish good looks with fuller cheeks and a sharp chin.
The bartender spotted Seth standing in the hallway and smiled warmly, making eye contact. Embarrassed, Seth nodded back to him.
“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Kintsugi Bar. Please, sit wherever you are most comfortable,” he said in a soft voice that carried across the room. Seth looked around for who he might be speaking to, then realized it was him. The bartender smiled at him again, motioning to an open seat where the bar met the wall.
His demeanor reminded Seth of a butler from some BBC drama. With the bartender’s full attention on him, he felt obligated to come inside. Uncomfortably, he took the seat the man had gestured towards, settling in and trying not to look as awkward as he felt.
The bartender smiled comfortingly at Seth and he immediately felt more at ease. He also felt something else, something that made him relax, despite his awkwardness. He felt like he was supposed to be here. It just felt right.
“Good evening, sir. May I pour you drink?” the bartender asked him, his voice soothing and honied.
“Um…hey. Hi. I’ll have…” he trailed off. He didn’t drink alone, ever. What did someone drink when they were drinking alone? Was there a protocol for this? “I don’t know, actually,” he replied, looking down at the bar, trying not to let the bartender see him being insecure. The black top was intricately veined with natural looking streaks of gold. Without thinking about it, he ran his fingers over a nearby golden vein. It was raised up just a little, a smooth ridge beneath his fingertips.
“The bar top is beautiful, isn’t it?” Mr. Bartender said, rubbing his hands reverently over the glossy black surface. “It’s a Japanese technique. To fix something that has been broken with gold. To put it back together again and make it even more beautiful and strong than it was to begin with. The Japanese art of Kintsugi.” He leaned in towards Seth, fingering golden veins on the bar as well. Seth had a fleeting desire to feel those fingers trailing across his skin. The thought startled him, and he pushed it away quickly.
“The whole bar is solid black marble, skillfully broken and then repaired with gold. The entirety of it was made by the owner of this shop. She’s from Japan originally, you see, and practices kintsugi as a hobby. She claims it clears her mind and helps her find peace,” the bartender continued, either oblivious to, or ignoring, Seth’s insecurities.
Seth looked up at the bartender, meeting his eyes. He felt a chill rush through his body the moment their eyes met. It was striking, almost like a premonition. The hair on his neck tingled as if it were charged with electricity searching for a grounding source. Not that he believed in that kind of stuff, the premonitions, that was more up Lance’s alley.
Thinking on Lance reminded him of his failed blind date and he frowned.
Mr. Bartender’s eyes were striking, grey-green with clarity he didn’t think he should have been able to make out in the dim light. His smile faltered at the presence of Seth’s frown. “I’m sorry, sir, did I upset you?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.
“No, no,” Seth said hurriedly. “I, uh…well, I got stood up tonight. Blind date. Sorry. I don’t want to ruin the cozy atmosphere in here. Maybe I should just go…” He flexed his hands on the bar as he pushed himself, getting ready to stand up.
Mr. Bartender leaned in closer to Seth. “Sir, please, sit and relax. A nice drink and some company might help you take your mind off of your unfortunate evening. It’s a shame to let someone else ruin your night. You look like you could use a break.” He spoke gently, his tone soothing, as if he were speaking to a frightened animal.
“I do need a break,” he agreed, hesitating only for a breath. He relaxed back down into the stool, studying the bartender. He was handsome, almost stunning. His nose was a bit crooked, as if it had been broken at some point, but instead of taking away from his looks it just made them even more compelling.
“You know, you’re right,” he continued, agreeing with the bartender. He did deserve a break. “It’s been a long time since I could just relax and not be all stressed out. I shouldn’t let someone else ruin this night for me. Thank you. This semester had been killer, you know? Well, you don’t, because we just met, but I’m glad there’s only a short time left before the winter break starts. Sorry, I know you don’t care, I’m not sure why I’m just babbling on…”
“Sir, I’m pleased that I can help you relax,” he said, smiling warmly. Seth couldn’t help but feel comfortable around this man, even if he was just doing his job. He had this way about him that set Seth at ease.
“As for drinks,” the bartender continued, “you mentioned you weren’t sure as to what you would like. What do you usually enjoy? Something warm, something on ice, straight up, beer, wine, or perhaps a mixed drink?” Mr. Bartender asked breezily, counting off the options on his fingers.
“I really don’t know. I’m a bit off kilter tonight. What would you drink, if you were me?” Seth looked down at his hands, hiding a smile. For some reason, he felt like teasing the bartender a bit. He played it up a bit, pretending to be a little embarrassed, as if he wasn’t comfortable ordering a drink at a bar. It was the bully in him, maybe. He had a momentary flashback to Brooke from second grade again, and squashed that down just as quickly as he thought of it.
Mr. Bartender, noticing his discomfort, frowned, seriously considering what to offer him. Seth smiled internally, trying his best to keep it from showing on his face, continuing to play the part. The bartender’s concern for him was a rush.
Smiling warmly, the bartender inquired, “Well, I’m particularly fond of warm drinks, especially when the weather gets cold like this. Do you like coffee?”
“I like my sugar with coffee and cream, if you know what I mean,” he replied playfully, referencing the Beastie Boys.
“I have the drink for you, then. Wait just a moment and I’ll whip it up for you.” His reference was totally missed by the bartender, but that didn’t disappoint him. He found himself more and more interested in this man, some type of instant affection.
Mr. Bartender turned towards the bar, grabbing a translucent glass mug and an odd ceramic funnel from below the backlit rows of liquor. Placing both the funnel and the mug on the bar, he reached beneath it to pull out a black stand that looked like it belonged in Seth’s BioChem lab. He set the funnel into the stand before Seth on the bar, the mug below its spout. He lined the funnel with filter paper and carefully measured out coffee grounds, which he had gracefully pulled out of an unseen container beneath the bar. Then he placed the funnel over the coffee mug and poured Jameson slowly into the filter. It dripped as quickly as he poured it through the filter until it layered the bottom of the mug, only slightly darker than it had begun.
As the Jameson continued to drip down through the coffee grounds, Mr. Bartender had been filling a small Japanese teapot with boiling water, also drawn unseen from below the bar. He poured the water into the funnel, slowly and skillfully swirling the water into the filter. As the coffee dripped through the filter his pouring slowed, never allowing the water to pool.
“The trick, you see,” he told Seth as he poured, “is to not let the water ever completely submerge the grounds. They get stifled and bitter. You want to rinse them with the water, not drown them.” He poured the last of the water into the filter and the smell of fresh coffee assaulted Seth. It smelled incredible. Mr. Bartender let the funnel drip, turning around to open a small half sized silver refrigerator. He pulled out a small bowl covered with foil as well as a jar with a spoon sticking out of its metal slotted lid.
“For the best Irish coffee, you are supposed to use real cream and brown sugar. But I prefer molasses. There’s something dark and smoky, yet smooth and sweet, that curbs the bitterness of the coffee in the nicest way.” He pulled out the spoon and it dripped with a dark syrup. Mr. Bartender slid the cup away from the funnel and hovered the spoon over it. He allowed it to languishly drop into the coffee, slowly swirling the spoon around in the air above to encourage its slow drips. His movements were sensual with a reverent feel to them.
Mr. Bartender really seemed to enjoy making this drink. Seth thought he could see a spark of excitement in his eyes, a bit of giddiness in his voice that gave his enjoyment away. Seth smiled, enjoying the emotions he was eliciting from the handsome man behind the bar.
It was just so easy to relax around Mr. Bartender. Too easy. Seth felt something stir inside of him. He had charisma like Lance. Seth recognized him as someone who made others want to be around them. As it was with Lance, he imagined it was hard not to be pulled in by Mr. Bartender’s charms.
But…the man stirred something in Seth in a way that Lance did not. It felt as if he was attracted to this barkeep. That could not be the case. Not at all. But, as he watched his hands, working diligently, he couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like on his skin.
He shook his head, clearing it of the thought. He was tired and it had been a stressful semester. He was obviously frustrated and confusing kindness for something more. Tucking away his feelings, he forced himself to pay attention to the skillfully working hands as they finished up his drink.
Mr. Bartender replaced the spoon and pulled the lid off of the silver bowl. It was filled with fresh whipped cream, and he dolloped a spoonful onto the coffee carefully, allowing it to settle in without the liquid overtopping the sides of the mug. The ladle disappeared below the bar and he swiftly returned the bowl and jar to the small fridge.
He pushed the decadent looking drink closer to Seth, leaning over the bar expectantly. Seth took the drink in both hands. It’s warmth was comforting. He leaned in and breathed deeply over the cup, taking in the aroma of the coffee and cream and hint of whiskey. It smelled delightful. He brought it to his lips, gingerly testing the temperature, which was perfect.
Sipping the coffee, his eyes slipped closed and rolled back on their own. He thought it was what heaven must taste like. The drink was so good that he didn’t care about the cream he knew was lining his upper lip.
Mr. Bartender had been right about the molasses. The drink was decadent. Seth took another sip and felt himself relax. He hadn’t realized he was so tense. The warmth of the coffee melted him as if it were flowing through his veins. He sighed and smiled over his cup at the bartender, licking the cream off of his upper lip.
Mr. Bartender smiled back. “I take it you like it?” he asked playfully. He leaned over the bar, resting on one elbow as he watched Seth enjoy his drink with a satisfied look. He reached over and touched Seth’s nose, wiping away cream. Seth watched the bartender as he put his finger in his mouth, sucking the cream away before he fully realized what he had just done.
He jumped away from the bar quickly. Seth’s heart clenched in excitement and he swallowed hard. “Oh, I am so sorry, I just got, well, I, uh…” the bartender stuttered, his face flustered. He thoroughly savored his reaction, his heartbeat racing as if he were flirting with girls. “I guess I just got caught up in the moment. I’m terribly sorry,” he said, bowing ever so slightly, “I don’t normally touch patrons.” He wiped his hands on the smart black waiter style apron and then guiltily put them behind his back, doing his best to avoid looking directly at Seth. His cheeks flushed crimson.
It was absolutely endearing.
Seth smiled in delight. He hadn’t had this much fun in a while. This night was turning out to be a lot more fun than the root canal blind date he had expected. It was thrilling seeing all of the varying expressions of this handsome man. He wanted to tease him even more, to discover and observe even more of his reactions.
Seth teased him a little. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he whispered conspiratorially, giving the bartender his most innocent wink. Mr. Bartender blushed even harder. Seth laughed lightly, and the bartender joined, chuckling, cutting the tension.
Mr. Bartender nodded, winsome face flushed with embarrassment. “I’d appreciate it. I have a reputation to keep, you know.” He smiled genuinely at Seth, then nodded before he gracefully slid down the bar to check on the other patrons. He watched him go, appreciating the ease he moved around the bar, how much he seemed to belong in his environment.
He took another sip of his Irish coffee, settling back comfortably into his bar chair. This night hadn’t been a complete waste after all. He was pretty sure Kintsugi had just become his new favorite hangout.
He was still going to give Lance a hard time about the date, though, despite the fact he now had a hard time caring that it had been derailed. He wasn’t going to let him off the hook, but he also wasn’t going to tell him about his new secret hangout, either. The last thing Seth needed was for Lance to come in and ruin everything.
Dreadfully Erotic 