Climb the Ocean
By Ephemera and Byrne
London
Part Thirteen
Oliver was happy enough to follow Tom's lead on this. Breakfast, then the zoo...he could do this, really. They'd had a bit of lie in, made love and then showered. The showering had taken some time. But, here they were, finally dressed and out the door, going to do some real touristy out door fun stuff.
After Oliver experienced the wonder that was a bacon buttie with brown sauce.
He looked at Tom suspiciously, a grin hiding behind it. "This is about the sushi thing, isn't it?"
Tom put their plates down with a grin of his own. "Absolutely not - this is about you being introduced to one of the traditional delicacies of the UK."
The cafe Tom had found for them didn't much look like it was going to be the home of delicacies from any part of the world. The kitchen was thankfully out of sight, but the rest of the place looked a little worn around the edges - plastic gingham tablecloths, little tin ash trays, and mismatched chairs. Then again, the tulips in the vase on each table were real, everything was clean, and the tea was strong and milky and came in good solid extra large mugs that just invited you to wrap hands around them. The gleaming bacon and eggs and the small pile of buttered triangles of toast actually looked pretty tempting too.
"Okay then, love. Teach me. Share the experience. What do I do, just make a sandwich?" Oliver grinned at Tom, actually feeling like this was sort of fun. The kind of fun he'd been longing for, back in Boston. Hanging out and doing things together. First, the weird English breakfast, later the zoo. It was already a great day.
"Watch and learn from a master. First you take your bread." Tom reached over to take a slice of buttered white bread from the side plate, laying it on the edge of his own. "Then add plenty of bacon." He used fork and a finger to lift three rashers on to the bread, shaking his hand a little and sucking on his finger like he'd burnt it. He smiled across the table. "Come on then - keep up."
"This can't possibly be good for me," Oliver grumbled with a wink. But he lifted hot bacon onto his toast and looked at Tom with a raised eyebrow. "Now the sauce?"
He debated reaching for the ketchup, just to see Tom's expression.
"It's Sunday brunch - it won't kill you - although I might. The toast is for the eggs - you want bread for the buttie or the texture's all wrong."
It might be a romantic cliché but Tom's eyes really were laughing at him from behind those specs.
Oliver sighed and rolled his eyes. "More rules than trying to eat a seven course meal without fucking up on the silverware. Okay, I can do this--you know it's only 'cause I love you, right?"
He grinned and started piling things together in what looked to be the right order, watching Tom's amusement grow. When Tom had finished squeezing brown sauce over his own bacon, he caught a drip on his finger and held it out to Oliver.
"You want a taste before you spoil your breakfast with it?"
Oliver thought Tom should have learned better by now.
He grabbed his lover's wrist and tugged his hand up, letting his thumb stroke over Tom's pulse point. When he drew Tom's finger into his mouth he sucked gently, laving it with his tongue, pulling and pushing in an unmistakable echo of something else they'd done not too long ago. When Tom's eyes got wide he added an extra suck and a soft moan, then let him go.
"Tasty." he said softly.
Only trouble with doing that was the boner he now had. Ah well, sacrifices had to be made, after all, and it was worth it for Tom's reaction. Wide eyes darkening and that tell tale flush that told him he wasn't the only one with a stiffy.
"Oliver!" was a slightly scandalized whisper, and then Tom grinned, suddenly and mischievously, and up-ended the brown squeezy bottle over Oliver's carefully piled bacon. "Glad you think so, seeing as that's what's on the menu this morning."
Oliver laughed ruefully. He had liked it, which was a good thing. "Uh huh. Just wait until we get to the zoo--bet I can find us a quiet place for lunch." There. Let him worry about American misbehaviour all morning. Not that Oliver would actually do anything to get them in trouble, but it was kind of neat to see Tom want and not want at the same time.
Also kind of neat that Oliver had to keep coming up with ways to make it up to him.
You could almost see the implications slotting into place as Tom froze for a moment. He came back to himself with a shake of the head. "Right. - anyway - eat up. And don't tell me your parents never told you about the importance of dipping your toast in your egg yolks, either."
Tom seemed determined to change the subject, but at the same time one hand was sliding under the small table, finding his thigh and stroking as far up as he could reach while bending forward, ostensibly in search of the salt.
Too easy.
Oliver shifted in his chair, slouching down so Tom's hand went further up his leg and grinned. "I always like to dip my...toast," he purred.
God, he was really going to have to try to stop. Winding Tom up was fun, but it the effect on himself was just as strong and there was no way they'd get any relief for hours. Didn't stop him from glancing around to make sure no one was looking so he could blow a kiss to his lover and adjust himself.
Tom's eyes widened again, but he got a surreptitiously blown kiss of his own as reward. Those long strong fingers slid slowly back down his leg, lingering, and then without any warning at all they attacked, tickling at the back of his knee.
Oliver jumped and squeaked, his hand instinctively going to bat Tom's away. Tom, of course, had retreated immediately and was giving him a perfectly innocent look while munching on his toast.
"You all right?" Tom asked, the very picture of concern.
Oliver shook his head and mock glared. "Fine thanks. Something around here was trying to attack me. I'll take care of it later. Teach the silly thing a lesson."
Tom arched an eyebrow. "Threats, indeed. Are you going to eat that?" He gestured at Oliver's carefully constructed buttie and then shamelessly stole a dip of one of Oliver's eggs.
"Yes, dear. And hey! No dipping in my yolk!" Oliver started eating, thoughtfully. He hated to admit it, but the bacon buttie was actually really good.
"Not threats, either," he said when he'd swallowed. "More a warning and a promise." He raised an eyebrow and took another big bite.
Tom nearly choked on his tea. "So what you're saying." There was a smile quirking at the edge of his mouth. "is that if I'm silly and annoying all day, I get the kind of promises you make with that look in your eyes? 'Cause in that case, prepare to be sillied!"
"Let me rephrase," Oliver said, trying to swallow and not choke on a laugh. "Be silly and annoying and I'll make you go shopping in Soho with me after the zoo. And, just so we're clear? Everything you do makes me get that look in my eyes."
Tom was caught with that same want / not want look for just a second while he finished his sentence, then that was just drowned out in something warm and happy that made his heart just sing. Tom's hand found his on the table top and rested on it for a moment, warm and right.
"Even if I bug you to eat up so we don't miss the pelicans having lunch?"
"Even that," Oliver said, trying to put heat in his look even though the idea of pelicans eating wasn't that inspiring. Still, he had a reputation to maintain here.
He took another big and bite and tried to talk around it. "You really want to go see them have their lunch?"
OK, so that half-apologetic hopeful look? That was too damn cute to be legal. "Actually, yeah. Pelicans and then penguins - just sounded like it'd be a cool thing, and I never go to do that I came here with school. Would you mind?"
Like Oliver would mind doing anything Tom wanted. "Of course I don't mind, love. Silly looking birds it is."
He finished his bacon buttie as quickly as he could and drained his cup of tea. When that was taken care of he grabbed Tom's hand and almost hauled him out of the diner, stopping only long enough so they could take care of the cheque.
"So, what's the fastest way to get there, oh tour guide of mine? Bus?"
"Bus: double decker, top front seats, which is also one of the finest ways to see London." Tom angled them in to a bus stop and settled warm bare arms around his waist. "And yes, I am kid enough that I still go sit up top when I take the bus." Tom smiled. "And don't try and tell me you don't sit at the back."
"Of course I sit at the back," Oliver said with a grin. God, he loved having Tom touching him. Even just an arm around him, or holding hands... made him calm and happy and bouncy at the same time. "All the cool kids sit at the back. But I think you're right for this one--always wanted to ride on the top."
Oh, and look. He hadn't even meant that entendre and he'd made both of them blush. Had to be worth double points, if they were keeping score.
"It's trouble makers sit at the back." Tom struggled manfully to ignore their blushes and keep things on a level that wouldn't offend the other passengers-in-waiting. Compared to most of Boston, the bus-travellers of London did seem to be a relatively tolerant bunch. No one was even looking at them.
He laughed and turned his head to grin at Tom. "Trouble makers are cool. Didn't you know that?"
Tom didn't even get a chance to reply before a bus pulled up and they climbed on. Up another flight of stairs and that just had to be the coolest thing--he'd seen the double deckers before of course, but he'd never been on one. He'd always used taxis or walked when he was in London before. This was something neat, one more Tom-only memory to keep
Tom had pulled him down to sit right at the front of the bus and with the big wrap around window it was a cool view - second story windows with fancy carvings down one side, wide open green park on the other, and a ribbon of red busses and black cabs down the middle. Looking forward and down as they moved though, that gave the most disconcerting sensation that the bus was running over the cars in front.
Judging by the way Tom was looking at him, he must be grinning. "Pretty cool, huh? London just looks better from this angle."
"Nah, London looks cool anytime. But this is *very* cool." He grinned at Tom and took his hand. It was cool.
The entire way to the zoo he played tourist, doing the entire gawking thing and making Tom tell him what they were seeing. They poked fun at people who were still dressed for winter, counted how many times Oliver said the word cool, and in general got to the zoo feeling light and happy.
They stumbled off the bus giggling and almost immediately fell over a cluster of children. Once they'd got straightened out and been apologized too by a fairly harried looking mom, they just stood for a second, getting their bearings.
"OK - when I'm rich and famous, I shall pay for all small children to have balloons tied to them in public at all times." Tom said eventually. "Just so you get some warning at eye level."
He had a point. The area around the tall black iron gates was busy and they weren't the only people to trip over members of the knee-high hoards.
Stepping around children, parents and assorted other beings Oliver made a grab for Tom's hand. "Don't want you to go missing," he said with a grin. "God knows what these kids would do to you if you wandered off."
He saw Tom's knowing smile and raised an eyebrow. "So I just want to hold your hand. I can make up excuses if I want." And then he stuck his tongue out at his lover, completing his regression to age six. "So, where do they keep the silly looking birds?"
Tom's hand felt good around his, and that chuckle would sound good anywhere.
"This way, love, and yeah - keep hold of me. I don't want to lose you."