by David O. Sullivan
Landon strode with confidence from the café's kitchen, arms laden with plates, and delivered meals for four at table number six. He nodded and bowed, grabbed a menu and walked over to the table where an awesomely handsome man had just sat down.
"Good afternoon, sir, anything to drink?" asked Landon. The man was large and fit, maybe in his early thirties. He had an adorable close-trimmed beard and mustache, short afro, and wore an air of confidence. Landon almost creamed his jeans.
The man assessed Landon's lithe build, his glance sweeping up and down.
"Good afternoon." Landon could melt in that smile. "I'd like a glass of Merlot and water with no ice. I'll have a medium T-bone steak with potatoes, vegetables, and a large salad."
The man's deep tone sent a shiver of excitement through Landon. "Yes, sir." He wrote the order, got the wine, delivered it, and hid in the kitchen, looking out.
Mike, the older owner wandered next to him. "What is it, terrorist attack?" He jokingly smacked Landon on the back.
"Geesh, you ever seen a sexier hunk of man? The black giant with the sexy beard. Do you suppose he's gay? Half gay? Ten percent?"
"He's huge. Think you can handle him?"
"I'd do anything he said." Landon's body sizzled with a fulfilled energy and his breaths increased.
"Well, chat him up. Maybe he'll take you home and give you a great 30th birthday fuck."
"Oh, I wish. He likely has a string of women all over town."
Landon was good at his job, but he gave extra attention to the man who had an obviously injured left wrist with limited range of motion. Fortunately it was late in the afternoon and only one other table had customers. He couldn't help but smile every time he talked to the man.
"Haven't seen you here before... traveling?"
"No, visiting a friend downtown. I like to try different restaurants around town. I live and work in the Blossom Valley end of San Jose."
"Oh? I live on a little street called Guiffrida out there. Share a small old apartment with a bud." Landon rushed off when a customer called to him.
When he returned to the man, he picked up the empty plate. "I hope you enjoyed it, but if there's anything wrong, please let us know. We're serious about providing an excellent service." He smiled ear-to-ear and stared at the man.
"Are you the owner here?"
"No, sir, but I've worked her since I was nineteen. We're a small café, and Mike... he's the owner, is really good and doesn't care that I'm sort of gay."
"Sort of?"
"Well, just 110%." He grinned again and stared.
"Yeah, it all was good, although the salad would be better if you added different kinds of lettuce besides just iceberg and serve the dressing on the side so the customer decides how much to add. Other than that, the steak was better than I expected in a café." The man showed his white teeth and stared back. "And the service was indeed excellent. You were attentive but not overbearing."
Landon couldn't take his eyes off the sexiest man he ever met. There seemed to be a connection, as though he knew him from a prior life, if that existed. He only said, "Thank you.
"You keep staring at me. Is my fly open?" He laughed deep.
Landon became a blathering teen. "You're so sexy. I've never met anyone so cool, hot, handsome, and desirable. Your arms are huge. I'd do anything you'd say, and I..." His neck and face heated. "I'm so sorry. I forgot myself." He turned in embarrassment and began to walk off, feeling like a damned fool kid.
"Hey, what's your name?"
He turned back. "Landon, sir. I'm so sorry for what I said."
"Landon what?"
"Jackson, sir."
"Jackson? That's my last name. I'm Roarke, maybe we're related."
Landon never believed in love at first sight. Hated the saying, but now he believed. He reached a hand out, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackson."
"No need for formality. We're kin, or so it seems. Nice to meet you, Landon. I'm sure I can track you down, but I'm a busy man. Be better if you just give me your phone number. I know where Guiffrida is. I live on Jackie Drive. They're about a mile apart. I run and bike a lot. Been on your street." He took out a pad and pen from his coat and pushed it toward Landon who wrote his name, address, and phone number.
"Are you gay?" Landon's voice rose an octave. Was that a hint of Southern twang he heard?
"One hundred and ten percent gay. I feel like I've known you for a long time, Landon. Like, hell, I don't know, maybe from a prior life?" He laughed again.
Landon knew he should return to work, but couldn't free himself from the trance Roarke put him in. He stared again. He heart beat steady and happy. His jaw trembled the tiniest amount.
"I have no plans tonight. Will you go out to dinner with me?"
Landon's jaw quivered more and he stood like in he was frozen in time. Dinner? He asked to take me to dinner. Tonight. What a hot birthday!
"Landon? Are you in a state of some sort, or are you seeing someone? I hope you're not married to some sexy hot dude. Dinner? Tonight?"
"Oh, sorry. Um, dinner? Yeah, that would be great. I feel like I know you. Where do you want to go? What time? I'm off at six."
"How about seven? There's a nice place on the corner of Blossom Hill Road and Cahalan Avenue. We'll meet in the lobby. I'll make reservations."
"Yeah, most cool." Landon blinked as he said, "Today's my birthday. You've made my day, Roarke." His breaths escalated. He felt like a fifteen year old getting a date with the hottest boy in school. Roarke had chiseled facial features while Landon had casually distinguished ones with a chin dimple. Landon knew he was good looking but Roarke was loads better looking.
Roarke left a fifty-dollar tip.
Landon rushed back to Mike in his office. "Dude, he's gay, and he asked me to dinner tonight! And get this, we have the same last name." He wrapped his arms around himself. "I feel like I've known him for like forever, you know?"
"I'm happy for you, kid. I told you Mr. Special would come along. Be safe."
Landon worked and looked at the clock every few minutes, even when it got busy. He had half a hard-on the entire time and wondered if they'd go to bed and if he should jack off before the date to relieve the tension.
He rushed home with a silly but happy grin, took a shower he didn't need, dressed in his favorite pink button-down shirt with khaki slacks and his three favorite necklaces, hanging outside his shirt. He did all that with his heart thrumming a happy beat and a wild-assed smirk on his face. A dash of cologne, a brush through his long dirty blond hair, and he was off, getting there three minutes early.
He went inside the decent looking place. The entry was a bit darker than was best, but what the hell, wasn't his place?
A greeter met him: a tall, older black man, neatly dressed and obviously happy, carrying thirty extra pounds and a short beard similar to Roarke.
"Hello, welcome. Do you have a reservation?" He spoke with a deep Southern drawl.
"Um, yes, I mean no. Well, I'm meeting a new friend here. He said he'd make a reservation. His name is Roarke Jackson." He felt like a school kid.
"Well, that's fine, sir. I'm sure he'll be here shortly." He walked off toward the back, whistling a tune and wearing a smirk.
A minute later Roarke strolled up from inside the restaurant and smiled huge. "Hey, glad you made it."
Landon scanned him, grew a boner, and looked to the back.
"Yeah, uh, I had to use the restroom."
"Oh, yeah, sure."
Roarke grabbed a menu and walked with Landon to a table in the far back, near the kitchen door. He asked, "Do you want a table for two or four?" He seemed cool and confident.
"Four, if it's okay. I'd sort of rather like to sit next to you."
They sat. "I hoped you'd say that." He sucked a deep breath in to control himself. "I admit, I'm a little nervous."
"Yeah, me too. I feel like I've known you forever."
"Me too. Funny how that goes."
The place was medium full and looked like it had seen better days, but was nice. A server arrived, a cute little blonde thing with an awesome smile and hair done in a French braid. She looked college age.
"Good evening, gentleman. Can I get you something to drink?" She looked at Landon then smiled at Roarke, saying, "I know, water no ice. Wine?"
Roarke looked at Landon. "I like a bit of wine with dinner. Do you drink?"
"I drink very little. Low tolerance. I'll just have the house Merlot."
Roarke told the server, "We'll take a bottle of Woodward Cannon from Washington and start with a calamari appetizer."
She nodded to Roarke and looked at Landon again. "Water?"
"Yes, please, no ice."
She left.
Roarke said, "I hope you like fried calamari, but if not, I love it and will eat the entire portion." He showed his teeth.
"I love calamari. I keep trying to get Mike to put it on the menu, but he says that's for the finer places. Mike's a good guy. Gave me a job when I was nineteen. I started washing dishes, became a bus boy, and am now his best server. I was so naïve then. He became a second father to me. My dad and I just don't click. We don't fight or anything, but just don't click. Of course my gayness is an issue. I came out when I was twelve. I'm the only child and that hurt him and Mom. He wanted someone to have kids and carry on the family name. Even my mom and I are off tune a lot." He slapped his face. "Gee, listen to me ramble on."
"That's cool. I want to know everything about you." Roarke leaned toward Landon.
He draped his hand on Landon's arm and the heat sent a zing through Landon's body. He felt so special being with this handsome man. Damn, a hot sexy black man, his fantasy coming true. But he wondered what the issues and problems would be between them and how long it would last. Landon never had a relationship with a man last more than a year.
"What else, like, what are you thinking now?" asked Roarke.
Like a magic talking spell was cast over him, Landon just babbled, "Now? I'm wondering how long our relationship will last. If you're married or partially married or totally gay. What will the issues be between us and how will it end. Are you top or bottom? I hope you're totally single." He went on to talk about prior relationships and how he hated being cheated on.
Roarke lowered his head and pretended to scan deep into a crystal ball, waving his hands over it. "I'll ask the powers. He squinted into the invisible magical ball. Ah, they say we'll be friends and lovers for a very long time, maybe decades, maybe the rest of our lives."
The calamari, water, and wine were delivered and they dug in.
The server asked, "Would you like to order now or when I return?"
Roarke asked Landon and he said, "Whatever you want."
Roarke waved her off. She wore a mischievous smirk.
"I hope the rest of your evening is free?"
"Sadly, yes, considering it's my birthday."
"Landon, do you like chocolate cake?"
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