Chapter Text
The next time Cornelius came in, Billy blanked him. Billy had mastered the blank, unresponsive gaze when dealing with troublesome customers, but it was slightly harder to maintain it when faced with those big, bright eyes. He ordered a decaffeinated cappuccino but Billy used caffeinated coffee while charging him the extra 20p. And Billy didn’t put a heart in the foam even though they had just mastered it.
Cornelius had tried to start a conversation but Billy had ignored him. It would have been easier if there were other customers queued up, but Cornelius had waited outside until it was clear so he could stride up to the counter uninterrupted.
He had retreated to his normal table, his gaze on Billy again but this time it had a more interrogative quality. Billy turned away, focused on the chalkboards on the wall behind the bar. One was new and had ‘fancy a stronger latte? * Flatte *’ written in it. Billy frowned, then rubbed it out with their sleeve. If George asked, Billy would just say it fell and got smudged . Billy replaced -what ever that was- with a simple smiley face. They were not in the mood to deal with flattes. Or Cornelius.
They could feel him still looking at them. Without turning around Billy went into the staff only area. This consisted of a corridor with lockers, one side leading to the small kitchen (there was a larger kitchen for more substantial cooking upstairs). Billy went for the other door, which opened into the storage area and the walk in, which Billy entered, slowly inhaling the cool air.
It was probably a good thing that Cornelius had pissed them off. There wasn’t really room to get on your knees in here.
Not that Billy had many other options. Living at home with several siblings meant that they couldn’t really do hookups. The last few times involved Billy going to dingy student accommodation, which provided an impressively unerotic atmosphere.
At least if they hooked up with someone here, there would be a forbidden element to it. That’s sexy, even if it is in a walk-in stocked with smoked salmon, and George’s jazz and bossa nova playlist playing in the background. Ok, Billy thought, if I am going to give head in here, I should change music first.
‘Billy?’
‘Yes, Tommy?’
‘If a guy had the flu and you gave him head, would you catch it?’
Billy put the plate they were washing up down to turn to him. ‘What?’
‘You know, because it's contagious.’ Tommy said, still looking at the cutlery they were drying.
‘Well, for starters, I doubt you'd want to be sucked off if you had the flu. You'd just want to sleep.’
‘Ok, not the flu but like a cold.’
‘Is this something you did or-’
‘No, no, it's just hypothetical. You know, in case it was relevant to the future.’
Tom Jopson appeared with another tray full of plates. Outside the kitchen you could hear the final few members of the party leaving. ‘Tommy, do not have any form of sexual contact with someone who’s ill. We are understaffed.’
‘I mean,’ Billy said, resuming their washing up. ‘I guess if you only had contact with his dick, you might-’
‘He could very easily have cold germs on his dick.’ Tom said, unloading the tray. ‘From coughing on it. Or touching it without washing his hands. Especially if he’s Tommy’s usual type.’
Tommy looked at them both meekly through his thick eyebrows. ‘So if he had just showered?’
Billy and Tom looked at each.
‘I guess.’ said Billy.
‘Depends where the shower is. Not those ones at the sports hall your 5-a-side team uses.’
‘Those showers are fine. And I'm not taking judgement from someone who spends half their life on gross nightclubs.’
‘For work.’ Tom snapped. ‘I’m not giving random men blowjobs in gross bathrooms. I'm focused.’
‘Yeah, on pressing all those buttons.’
Tom glared with his pale eyes. He was protective about the art of DJing.
Edward walked into the kitchen, wiping his forehead with a tea towel. He indicated to the washing up. ‘Can I help?’
‘Yes, actually.’ said Billy, passing Tommy a plate to dry. ‘Could you catch a cold off a guy by giving him head?’
Ned’s big brown eyes blinked at them. ‘Yes. If he sneezed on you.’ he said eventually.
‘Exactly, Tommy,’ said Tom, ‘You’re going to get sneezed on and call in sick and then we won't have enough people for that concert on Tuesday.’
Some singer from somewhere really random like Iceland or something was performing on Tuesday.
‘Obviously, I’m not going to let Sol- I mean-’
‘Wait, Sol? The guy from your football club?’ Billy asked. ‘Why are you suddenly sucking him off?’
‘Well,’ Tom said before Tommy could answer. ‘He had to step up from just staring at him and giving him free drinks at some point.’
‘Like I’ve said before,’ Tommy’s voice was raised, ‘I don't give him free drinks. I give him the friends and family discount.’
‘And as I’ve said before,’ replied Tom, ‘that's for relatives and boyfriends and long term friends. It's not a just a guy-you-want-to-fuck-you discount.’
(This policy had to be made clear when last year there was a construction crew over the road and everyone's use of the discount became a financial issue.)
‘Make him your boyfriend and you can use the discount.’ Tom said, who had moved so he was standing next to Tommy and was stacking the clean crockery on his tray.
‘Well, obviously that's the plan.’
‘After sucking him off.’ remarked Billy. ‘When he's sick.’
‘Well tomorrow it's our match against Drumfield and when we win-’
‘How are you so sure you're going to win if one fifth of your team is sick?’
‘Drumfield is crap.’
‘So why does he deserve a blowjob then?’
‘Because it will be our fiftieth match playing together.’
‘Ohhhhh.’ said Billy. ‘So this is something all the players get when they've done fifty matches? I get it.’
‘No-’ Tommy thrust the plate he was holding in Tom’s hands with some aggression. ‘I’m only going to suck Sol off, not all of them.’
‘I don't think Mr Churchgroup would let you, anyway.’
As well as being on Tommy’s football team, John Irving was a deeply religious man who looked like he fronted a Christian rock group but he actually just ran a small church group that used the upstairs on Wednesday afternoons.
Despite being no one's boyfriend he got the friends and family discount. (‘He's not like those builders,’ complained Tommy, ‘they needed those iced coffees to prevent heatstroke. He's just talking about Jesus.’)
George strode into the kitchen, bright smile a mile wide. ‘Great job tonight, fellas… and Billy.’
Billy nodded and returned their attention to the washing up.
Despite the rather sexy dream Billy had about him, they were still determined to ignore Cornelius next time he came in.
He didn't show up on Saturday, giving Billy a weird twisting feeling in their gut at the thought he might never show up again.
But there he was on Sunday, framed by the big front windows, walking from across the street, causing a wave of emotion through Billy’s entire body. Billy had time to neutralise their expression, but they felt it soften as they watched him. Something was wrong.
Instead of swagging over to the bar he threw himself down on the sofa in his usual spot, and stared, not at Billy, but at nothing at all.
Billy put down the cappuccino they were half way through making and immediately started on a tea.
When they had it, they moved from behind the bar and slowly over to his table. Even when they were right next to it he didn't respond.
‘You look awful.’ Billy said, after looking at him for a few moments.
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re sick.’
‘I’m not-’
‘It wasn't a question. Drink this. Lemon and ginger tea with honey.’
‘I don't like ginger.’
‘Ironic.’
He must have been sick, thought Billy. Normally he’d have some response to that.
‘Can’t I have some coffee?’ he said, his big blue eyes meeting Billy’s imploringly.
Billy shook his head. ‘After you’ve drunk this. When the kitchen is open I’ll get Ned to make chicken soup for you.’
‘Is that on the menu?’
‘You’re always asking for off menu things. Why stop now?’
‘Its one thing to inconvenience you. It's another to do that to the sad man in the kitchen.’
‘It's fine. Don't worry about him. That's just how his face looks.’
Cornelius sniffed. ‘Have you been ill, Billy?’
‘No, not recently.’
‘Hmm. I was just wondering if I caught something off you when you spat in my drink.’
‘When I-?’ Billy put their tray down with some force. ‘Cornelius, I have not spat in your drink.’
‘If you did and you were ill, it would make me ill.’
‘Yeah, it would. But that's irrelevant. Because I didn’t. So it must be another barista in another place that you piss off.’ They nudged the tea to him. ‘Drink up. I’ll be back with your coffee.’
Tommy was coming down the stairs with a tray of dishes.
Billy held their arms out to him, taking the tray from him. ‘Tommy, go tell Ned to put on a pot of chicken soup.’
‘Nooo, Billy.’ he said, whining slightly. ‘If you want something off-menu you ask him.’
‘Look you can tell him it's for me, and I'll let you have some to take for Sal.’
‘... Sol. What would Sal be short for?’
‘Salamander or something. I don't know. Just-’ they indicated with their shoulder.
Tommy sighed, but obeyed.
Another honey and lemon later, Billy finally brought him a coffee. When coming back from his table, Billy saw that Tom had emerged from upstairs. He was behind the bar with Tommy, and had him by the shoulders and was turning him to face Billy and Cornelius.
‘Look how snotty and miserable that guy looks. That, Tommy, is how you’d be right now if Sol had let you at his dick.’
‘Let you?’ Billy asked, joining them. ‘Did he reject you?’
‘No, no, I didn’t get a chance to offer.’ Tommy sighed. ‘He seemed… distracted.’
‘Did you lose the match?’
‘’Course not.’
‘He probably just wasn't in the mood. I'm sure it’ll work at your 100th match. Or you could just wait 19 matches and-’
The door bell rang as three young women came in. Billy moved back to the coffee machine and started on the iced chais they always ordered. Tommy disappeared back upstairs with a tray of used cups.
While making the drinks, Billy’s eyes drifted back to Cornelius. He still looked, well, bad, but he was looking slightly less pale. What was wrong with him, and why had he come here? Surely, he would have been better off staying in bed. He could have ordered chicken soup from somewhere.
Bringing the girls their drinks gave them an excuse to move closer to his table. They complimented Billy's skirt and they gave them a little curtsy. Their eyes were still on Cornelius. It was odd watching him without him watching them back.
Tommy came down the stairs with soup, one piping in a bowl another in a take away container.
Billy strode towards him and took the soup towards Cornelius.
‘Eat this.’
Cornelius blinked up at him. ‘Hmm?’
‘Soup. Eat. Then go home to sleep.’
‘Can’t.’ he said, sniffing. Neighbours are doing building work. It's really loud.’
Billy paused. Well, their parents' home wasn’t far away. And no one would be in. In fact no one would be home until quite late.
‘One moment.’
Billy went up the stairs. ‘Tommy?’
Tommy was in the upstairs kitchen with Ned, stacking the dishwasher.
‘Tommy can I have your afternoon off?’
‘Billy-’
‘I’ll do two of your shifts. No, three.’
‘But I have plans!’
‘Really?’
‘Well, there's this game I bought on Steam and-’
‘Come on, Tommy.’
Tommy looked at them through his eyebrows. ‘What do you want the afternoon for?’
‘You know that sick guy downstairs?’
‘Yeah, Sol’s roommate.’
‘Yeah… wait what?’
‘Yeah. They live together.’
‘Your Sol?’
‘How many Sol’s-’
‘Doesn’t matter. He needs somewhere to sleep and-’
Tommy put down the glass he was holding and looked at Billy with disbelief. ‘You want my afternoon off so you can shag Sol’s roommate.’
‘No-’
‘After all that lecturing about how I’d catch something off Sol.’
‘I think you’ll find I said it would be fine if he had showered. Anyway, I'm not going to shag him. I'm going to let him sleep in my bed.’
‘Tom’s going to be so mad. You're going to get sick and we’re going to be understaffed on Tuesday and-’
‘I’m not going to get sick. I'll let him sleep in my bed, yes, alone, and then I’ll change the sheets and it’ll be fine.’
Tommy resumed his stacking. ‘I don’t know. Doesn't seem like a good idea.’
‘He’s sick Tommy, it's not like he's going to rob us. Besides, I’ll be in the house with him. If you give me the afternoon off.’
Tommy bit his lip, then nodded.