Tails and Teapots

www.torquerepress.com

Copyright ©2008 by Misa Izanaki

First published in
www.torquerepress.com, 2008

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Frankie woke up to the sound of an angry chicken clucking on his bedside table.
Stupid ring tone ...
He really needed to figure out how to change that. Of course, that was after he found out who was calling him. It was way too early for Frankie to be up, let alone taking phone calls. Okay, it was almost ten but that was still pretty damned early for him.

"Hello?" Frankie flipped his phone open before it could go through another round of angry clucking. It was Alan, his boyfriend and, as far as Frankie was concerned, the sexiest thing on two legs. They had been dating for almost two years and despite his quirks, Frankie loved Alan to death. He was even ready to take the plunge and ask Alan to move in with him. Hell, Frankie would have asked him then and there if his brain was awake enough for more than caveman sentences. "Hey, babe."

"Oh, you are home." Okay, maybe it wasn't a good time after all. Alan did not sound happy to hear Frankie's voice.

"Why? What's up?" "Nothing."

"Okay..." The tension on the phone woke Frankie like a cold shower.
What the hell did I do now?
Frankie got the distinct feeling that something was wrong. Alan was speaking in short, icy sentences and he only did that when he was pissed about something.

Alan was silent. Frankie half thought that they got disconnected until he heard a long, irritated sigh from Alan's end. Damn, whatever he did must have been bad. Frankie just wished he knew what it was.

"Um, do you want to get dinner later? I'm off at eight or so."

There was another impatient sigh from Alan. He was probably rolling his eyes, too. Alan had a tendency to do that when Frankie was being particularly thick about something. "Check your email."

With that, Frankie's phone beeped and went silent. Frankie glared at his phone and snapped it shut. "What the hell was that all about?"

Frankie grabbed a pair of clean boxers off the floor and tugged them on as his computer booted up. He scooted his mouse through some of the clutter on his desk and clicked on his email. There was one message offering to make his cock bigger. Frankie deleted that one. The next two were from his mom; Frankie would answer those later. Finally, he got to the one from Alan.

There was no subject, which worried Frankie even more.

Alan was very particular about things like that. So, either Alan had been distracted when he sent that email or upset, and neither of those meant good news for Frankie.

Frankie took a deep breath and clicked on the email. It wasn't a long one. There was something about Frankie spending too much time at work and Alan needing his space. Then Alan called him an "insensitive fuck who wouldn't know romance if it kicked him in the ass." Frankie read through the email two more times, making sure that he didn't miss anything. He sat back in his chair with a sigh. Who the hell breaks up with someone over email? And why didn't Alan tell him on the phone? Why the hell did Alan call him anyway?

Frankie shook his head. It was all part of what made his gorgeous and very passive-aggressive boyfriend, okay, ex-boyfriend, tick.

"What a shitty way to start the day." Frankie blew a bit of hair out of his eyes. He tried not to let the whole thing bother him but it didn't really work. It hurt that Alan didn't bother telling him to his face or even mentioning that there was a problem before their relationship got that bad.

Frankie glanced at the clock on his dresser. It was 10:15and he had to be at work in forty-five minutes. Frankie sighed again. He didn't feel like going to work after all that. That said a lot about how Frankie was feeling. He usually loved going to work. Frankie tended bar at The Body Shop which was the sweetest gig in Seattle. Hot dancers, easy hours and an apartment to boot, it was a great place to work. Too bad he wasn't in the mood for any of it.

Calling in sick wasn't really an option unless he wanted to piss off his boss, which he didn't. Oh well, at least work might take his mind off of Alan. He went to his closet to pick out something to wear. Frankie settled on a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt. Both were tight and clung snugly to the hard muscles of his chest and to his long, lean legs. He even stopped off in the bathroom to make sure his hair was well spiked and stylishly rumpled. Just because he was depressed didn't mean that Frankie didn't have to look good for work.

The entire time he was getting ready, Frankie kept going over the last few weeks and the last few months in his head. He tried to figure out what he did wrong but he couldn't do it. Hell, he didn't even know there was a problem until he got

that stupid email. Oh, maybe that's what Alan meant by "insensitive fuck." Then again, if that was the case, why didn't Alan say anything before?

That just frustrated Frankie even more. So, despite his better judgment, he called Alan. Not that it helped any. Alan wasn't picking up his phone. He was probably screening his calls. Besides, if Alan really wanted to talk, there wouldn't have been a break-up email.

Frankie took one last look in the mirror before heading down to work. At least he looked good. Granted, it wasn't hard. Frankie liked to keep fit and the silver hair and jade green eyes helped, too. Ev

He still felt like crap, but hopefully that would go away once he got to work. Frankie took the stairs down, determined to burn off some of the anger and frustration he was feeling. The last thing he wanted was to snap at a customer or one of the drink boys and get yelled at by his boss, Kale.

Three flights of stairs later, Frankie was in the club and not feeling any better. The drink boys were wandering between the small tables, taking orders and clearly dressed for the holidays in their Santa hats, cuffs and collars hung with Christmas bells and velvety red hot pants. Even the bouncers were wearing Santa hats, well, Itsuki was anyway. Though the kitsune had to cut holes in his to make room for his fox ears.

Damn it ... Frankie sighed again. He had totally forgotten that it was Christmas Eve. Frankie had been looking forward to spending the holiday with Alan but that plan had been shot

to hell. Frankie sighed. His day was getting better and better. He took his spot behind the bar and started filling drink orders. It was still early in the day, which meant it was slow, and that gave Frankie way too much time to think about everything. Maybe he should have risked Kale's wrath and called in sick. Watching all the pretty boys was depressing him even more.

"Okay, spill it, Frankie. What's wrong?"

Frankie sighed again. It would be Dante on shift with him.

That boy was curious as a cat and would keep poking until Frankie told him everything. Frankie wanted to brush Dante off and tell him that it was nothing, but he seriously doubted that the boy would take that as an answer. He tried it anyway and hoped that Dante would take the hint.

"Nothing ... I'm fine."

"Frankie!" Dante stood with both hands on his hips. It was almost parental, which was kind of funny, since Dante was both younger and shorter then Frankie was. The small devil horns Dante had didn't help things either. "I know something's bothering you. You've been moping since you got here. Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to start prodding?"

"All right, all right! You know how I was going to ask Alan to move in with me?"

"Yeah, Kale said it was okay, so what's the problem?" "Well, I don't have to worry about asking him anymore.

Alan broke up with me a little while ago ... with an email." "What?"

"He emailed me like an hour ago, called me an insensitive fuck and broke up with me."

"Wow, that's really lame." Dante patted Frankie on the shoulder. Dante was trying to comfort him but it wasn't working. "Would it make you feel better if I said that you're better off without him?"

"Not really." Frankie sighed and raked a bit of hair out of his eyes.

"Well, it's true. Alan was a bitchy little brat and you deserved better." Dante nodded. "I mean he was really hot, but he treated you like crap."

"Thanks, I think." Frankie grabbed a couple of limes and started hacking them into small wedges. Killing fruit always made him feel better.

"It's true." Dante cocked his head and eyed Frankie worriedly. "And it's really shitty of him to break up with you on Christmas Eve too."

"It's not that big of a deal." Frankie wiped his hands and pulled two beer bottles out of the fridge under the bar. He popped the caps and handed the beers to one of the waiting drink boys.

"Yeah, it is ... email is a really lame way to break up with someone, especially this time of year." Dante's tail twitched back and fourth, doing that angry cat thing it did when Dante was annoyed at something. "Did you talk to him at least?"

"He called me earlier to tell me to check my email." Frankie shrugged. "And now he's not answering his phone."

"What?" Dante's tail bristled angrily. "That's even worse then just emailing you. He could have said something when he talked to you, at least."

"Yeah, we—" Frankie stopped mid-sentence as Kale, the owner/manager of the club, stepped up to the bar with a box almost completely covered in brightly colored postage stamps in his hands.

"Am I interrupting something?" Kale asked. One slim, auburn eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"No..." Frankie busied himself with more of the limes stored behind the bar. He didn't need to let his boss in on his personal life, really he didn't.

"That blond twink he was dating dumped him and he did it by email, too. The brat couldn't even come down here and face him."

Frankie resisted the urge to chuck one of the limes he was cutting at Dante's head. It was tempting, but Dante and Kale were an item and smacking Dante would just get him fired.

Kale probably didn't take kindly to anyone pelting Dante with fruit, even if he deserved it.

"Sorry to hear it. You okay?" "Yeah."

"Well, if you need a little time off or something, let me know." Kale nodded at him. "Dante or Ed can cover for you." Kale set his box on the bar and pushed it toward Frankie. "A little good news though, this came for you today. It's from Japan."

"Thanks." Frankie eyed the return address with curiosity. It was from his mom. Ever since his dad died, Frankie's mom

had gotten the urge to travel the world. She was currently wandering around Japan and having the time of her life. At least, that's what her post cards and emails said anyway. "I think it's a Christmas present from my mom."

"Ooh, open it!" Dante started to bounce.

Frankie pulled a box-cutter from one of the drawers under the bar and sliced through the layers of tape and stamps. A neatly folded letter sat on a mound of packing popcorn.

Frankie opened the letter first and read it. Yup, it was from his mom.

The letter read like the postcards he was used to getting from her. She was in Nara and having a great time. She was also sorry that she couldn't spend Christmas with him but she hoped that the present would make up for it. It was something she found in a tiny shop there and she knew that Frankie would love it. Well, she hoped he would, anyway. It was kind of funny that Frankie's mom actually wrote the last bit on her letter. Then again, she did ramble, even when she was writing. Frankie tucked the letter into his pocket. He would read the rest of it later. He then carefully dug through the packing popcorn. Frankie was curious to see what she sent him, and so was Dante, apparently.

"Come on, Frankie, the suspense is killing me. What did you get?" Dante grumbled as Frankie pulled something vaguely oval and wrapped in layers of bubble wrap out of the popcorn.

"Dante!" Kale glared and Dante immediately stopped complaining.

Frankie wished he knew how Kale did it. Oh wait, maybe he didn't. He didn't want to know what Dante and Kale did behind closed doors or how Kale got the boy to behave, for that matter. He just didn't need to think of his boss and his friend like that, no matter how sexy it was. It would just make things, well, awkward.

Carefully, Frankie slit the tape and peeled away the bubble wrap, revealing an old iron tea kettle. It was a pretty big kettle that probably held around four quarts of water. Well, if he actually dared to put water in the thing. Beneath the oxidation, Frankie could make out lines etched into the metal. The kettle was supposed to look like a tanuki. The spout was one of its paws and the handle was its tail. The only strange part was the wide strip of paper scrawled with what looked like an old form of Japanese that held the top of the kettle in place.

"Wow, that's ugly." "Dante!"