TIGERS DON'T CRY - Chapter One
In the harsh environment of a British pub kitchen, young Nate will have to come to terms with his growing attraction for one of his male colleagues.
TRIGGER WARNING - Strong and sexual language. Explicit sexual content.
I was well acquainted with the silence preceding sunrise, with the plumb darkness of the sky and the white glitz of the electric lights lining the streets. I took it all in and breathed deep the cool air as I zipped down the tarmac on my two wheels – the chain of the bike clicked as I approached the stone bridge crossing Taff River.
The road glistened. Rain drizzled lazily over my head as the nippy wind whipped against my cheeks.
I swerved through familiar roads and glimpsed at the House of Fraser building. I'd taken a dislike to it because it reminded me of how close I was to my workplace, which I'd taken to call “the Devil’s arsehole.”
When I was first told at what time I was expected to start my morning shifts, I distinctly remember how my blood had drained away from my face. I’d never been an early riser but, since necessity pressed, I'd become one.
Before I got myself a bike I had to get up at four to have a hope to be punctual, and once the shift was over I’d flop in bed with exhaustion as early as seven. The bike allowed me to have a good twenty-five extra minutes of sleep.
Commuting to work was the best part of my day. I came to love the quiet of a time in the morning when nobody was around, not even the drunkest of drunks who you found dragging their arses til four at the latest. In that short span of time between quarter past four and quarter to five, Cardiff lay silent and only I was wide awake. It was refreshing, freeing even, to be there just for myself – as if I was the sly king of the city, some kind of two-wheeled vigilant swishing by.
Us guys from the opening shift didn’t get in through the front entrance, that stayed closed until half-past seven, but from a backdoor for which I had the keys. I took the last turn that led to the tall building where the pub was located. I recognised the shapes of the windows and doors, my stomach tightening in that usual way it did just before a shift started.
The new guy was an extra reason to be nervous. I was expected to show him what to do during the opening hours. This was the kind of thing that made me uncomfortable. I’d never yearned to be in a position of leadership – I was a beta male who’d leave the spotlight whenever possible to those who could talk right, smile and do all those things that society expected you to do.
I got there, in front of the backdoor, and Ethan was nowhere to be seen. This didn't surprise me. During my first week I’d worked only in the afternoon, like he did, and got inside the pub from the main door, the one the customers used. When I showed up for my first opening shift, I’d struggled to find the backdoor. Even though you would think that walking around the pub building would be the simple solution, it definitely fucking wasn’t! The positioning of the back entrance and the way to get to it weren’t intuitive, the door wasn’t easy to spot and there was nothing particularly look-worthy nearby to remember it. I ended up being fifteen minutes late because I got lost and had to deal with a tamping Pete for the rest of the shift.
I foresaw this would happen to Ethan too on Sunday, when I had a moment of genius and texted Cam.
‘Give me Ethan’s number, would you? Bet he won’t be able to find the backdoor. It’s really dark at four am u know. I’ll have to meet him somewhere nearby, in front of Tesco like, take him there myself’
Cam replied, ‘I’ll ask him first’
Three minutes later I’d received a message from Cam with Ethan’s number. I proceeded to text Ethan.
‘Hey bruv this is Nate. Just so you know, backdoor is kinda tricky to find. Could meet u in front of Tesco if you want and show u where to go from there’
An eternity later, he replied, ‘Cheers man! Cam explained how to find the backdoor I think I’ll be alright’
I raised an eyebrow at that. I said, ‘Suit yourself,’ and went back to adding shadows to the armoured rhino I was drawing at my bedroom desk, enjoying the notes of a Mac Miller compilation in the background.
Now, at the crack of Tuesday’s dawn, I was shaking my head. It was five to five and Ethan hadn’t shown up. I picked up my phone with reluctance. The wanker hadn’t even texted! I wouldn’t have contacted him if I didn’t have to. I was forced to wait for him because once I got inside I had to lock the door behind me and Ethan couldn’t let himself in. It was getting late and there were a lot of things to do. I rang him.
I hated to speak on the phone but my impatience overrode my social awkwardness.
He picked up, all breathless, ‘Sorry mate, I’ve overslept a bit and now I can’t find the bloody door!’
‘No shit,’ I grumbled. ‘Where you to now?’
He panted, ‘I’m taking the road on the right like Cam said. I shouldn’t be long.’
‘You close to Tesco?’
‘Yeah…’
‘Right. Get your arse there. I’ll come meet you.’
I hung up and hurried to open the backdoor, chucked my bike and rucksack in the corner by the stairs, slammed the door which locked automatically and ran down the street, taking the turns that led to Tesco.
Ethan stood by the supermarket, a street light shining bright on his body like the beam of an imminent alien abduction.
When he saw me, his face crumpled with guilt, ‘Sorry bruv. I thought if I ran I was gonna make it.’
‘Yeah well, don’t matter now,’ I said. ‘Come on, let’s go quick. There’s loads of stuff to do.’
I sped down the street and took a few turns, the ones that confused all the news starters. All the while Ethan kept the pace with ease. I stopped by the anonymous white backdoor and gestured at it.
‘Yeah, so this is it.’ I slid the keys in the lock and pulled the heavy door open. Ethan followed me inside. In the white light of the room I could see how ragged he looked and I couldn’t stop a half-smirk from tugging the corner of my lips.
We stood by the ramp of stairs that led to the kitchen, two floors up, also to the changing room, three floors up, and the stockroom door was nearby. Between the handrail and the door was a small empty space where I usually crammed my bike and, when in a rush like today, left my bag. I straightened my two-wheeler which was at an awkward angle and quickly unzipped my rucksack. I knelt in front of it and extracted the checkered trousers, black hat, apron and white shirt for work.
‘I’ve gotta be honest, we haven’t got time to go to the changing room a minute,’ I said briskly. ‘It’s late, we’ve gotta get started. It should be alright to pop on the uniform here. I do it all the time, and you can chuck your stuff by there, in that corner. It’s not in the way or anything and you can come get it on your break.’
I slid off my hoodie, took off my long-sleeved top and grabbed the shirt. Ethan didn’t move and I glanced at him, exhaling with unconcealed frustration, ‘Come on dude, speed up! We’ve gotta get going, it’s past five already!’
Ethan’s eyes were wide with a don’t-know-what expression, ‘Right, yeah. Sorry.’
He took off his jacket with a slowness that almost made me growl. I pushed down my trousers and Ethan cleared his throat.
‘What?’ I burst out.
He was looking at me and it was weird until he looked away, ‘Sorry for causing trouble,’ he muttered. Ethan slid off his T-shirt brusquely. His body was as nice as I suspected, his strong arms sleeved with Asia-inspired tattoos. There was a cool tiger on his left pec and shoulder, jaws open in a growl that pierced the clouds, and a dope dragon on the right side of his chest, as fearsome as its counterpart. His muscles were lean and defined. He was a proper looker and his attractiveness irritated me.
I realised I was studying the ink on his chest for far too long when his eyes met mine, one of his eyebrows quirking inquisitively. I pretended as if I didn’t do something stupid like checking out another guy’s chest and quickly buttoned my shirt.
‘Yeah well, it’s happened now,’ I stared at my feet. ‘Make sure to show up on time tomorrow. The opening’s a bitch. If you start late it messes things up for the rest of the day.’
Once we both got changed, I sped up the stairs, feeling oddly self-conscious of the fact that Ethan was right behind me. With a certainty that came from deep within, I knew he was looking at me, that his gaze hadn’t strayed from the moment I paid too much attention to his body.
‘I won’t be able to show you everything I was supposed to ‘cause we’re short of time. We’ll go over everything properly tomorrow morning.’ I filled the air with words, otherwise the sizzling tension between us would invade everything instead.
I questioned myself as my mouth produced sounds, the voice explaining what was what and what was where, while the mind was stuck in that strange instant when his eyes had met mine. What the fuck was that?
I opened the door of the walk-in refrigerator. I showed him how the food was arranged, explained how the raw meat and fish had to be kept separate from the rest and mentioned that Cam expected Ethan to help with the deliveries eventually. Ethan stood closer to me than he needed to be.
I was aware of each of his breaths, of his subtle movements and the slight contact of our bodies in the small space where the chilled food was kept.
Even though I tried hard to deny it, after a while I simply couldn’t. He was watching me. His eyes were close to boring on my shoulders and he stood near enough that I could smell his aftershave.
I started to talk about the mushy-peas portioning and went to the preparation counter. He followed me as if he was glued to my shadow and leaned on the cold metal as I grabbed a huge tin of mushy-peas and a ladle. Our arms touched. My heartbeat quickened and I was freaking out. Part of me wanted to tell him to step back, that he didn’t need to be so close to see what I was doing, but I was frozen in place. I carried on showing him the small plastic boxes where we put the mushy peas, the weekday tags and such, when he spoke in a low voice, ‘I thought we were short of time. Is this something I need to learn right away?’
Heat rose up my neck and cheeks.
‘Yeah. You’re right, I guess,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ll show you how to take the filters off the ceiling, that’s important. You’ve got to wash them and put them back before six. Don’t bother putting too much detail into it, just splash them with soapy water and rinse them. That’d do for today. Tomorrow you can spend a little bit more time doing it better.’
Once I got Ethan started with the filters, I could finally concentrate on other things. I turned on all the machinery and set everything up for breakfast. Inside my head there was a ruckus of panicked thoughts.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Shit! What was that? Stupid heart, slow the fuck down! Fuck! I am such a lame piece of crap! Just because he’s a cool dude, it doesn’t mean I need to get all nervous while he’s around. Holy shit, I need friends! I’m so pathetic!
I kept repeating to myself that I was one of those guys who lived on the periphery of society, a little man. Insignificant. I was susceptible to charm because I didn't possess any. Having someone attractive and charismatic like Ethan nearby was messing with my head. The guy had been paying attention to me because I was training him. Nothing more.
I told myself all these things and had started to accept them as facts when I met Ethan’s gaze across the room. I was slicing a cucumber when my eyes, without my consent, flicked to him. Ethan searched my expression openly. There was a challenge in that deep blue, as well as an unspoken question. My heart flipped in my chest and a strange weakness took hold of my legs. I evaded his gaze and carried on slicing.
Pete and Nick showed up at six. Things got busy quickly and my mind was taken elsewhere, my thoughts entangled with the stressful routine. Cam was off today and for the first time in months I wasn’t relieved by that fact. His shouting would have kept me distracted. Instead, things got quiet around eleven and Ethan hung around the preparation area, chatting with abandon with the other guys. Somehow, he managed to always be a few steps away from me and glanced my way often.
My guts were tight with tension. I told myself that whatever the nature of this fascination, it was all in my head. It wasn't reciprocated. Ethan wasn't looking at me for a special reason.
He tapped my shoulder unexpectedly and murmured, ‘Need a hand with anything?’
‘I’m alright,’ I said.
He stood by me for a moment. Pete was busy complaining about the fryer and Nick vaguely agreeing with him, so neither of them saw when Ethan leaned into my ear and said, ‘You were much happier to talk when it was only the two of us. You’re not very sociable, are you?’
A bitter comeback rose at the tip of my tongue. I lifted my gaze and readied to spit some verbal venom. Whatever words I had in mind died, my intentions shrivelling up like raisins.
The touch was subtle but unmissable. Ethan ran the back of his finger along the side of my arm, near the elbow. My eyes widened.
He picked up a stray tomato seed from my skin and brought it to his lips. He met my eyes again – the question was there once more. I didn’t understand or, better, I didn't want to understand. I wished I could teleport away from there and evade his scrutiny.
Instead, I went all mushy and blushy and God I wanted to rip my burning skin off. I rubbed the part where his finger had touched as if it hurt.
His dark-blue gaze engulfed me – it was like a tempestuous sea where you could do nothing but swim down. There was a siren call there, into those depths, and I felt as if I'd lose myself in them if I didn’t look away. So I did.
The work tasks helped me to get through the following hours. As soon as the clock ticked two twenty-five, I shot out – I didn't even give Pete the time to comment on my rushed escape.
Once at home I barely said hello to my brother who was eating a sandwich by the kitchen counter. I ran to my room, locked the door and threw myself on the bed.
My heart thumped loudly in my ears. In fact, it was as if the drumming beat had taken over my body and mind. I was scared to ask myself what this all meant, or if it meant anything at all.
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