Chapter Eight #2
Rhys shot me a disbelieving look. Poor Mouse was still trying to compose himself.
“How do you go from wanting to defenestrate a guy to wanting to bone him?” Rhys asked, looking more than a little perplexed.
“In my defence, he was incredibly irritating and had parked across the front of the surgery where it’s strictly no parking.
” I muttered, remembering the day and feeling slightly ill knowing I had been incredibly unreasonable at the time.
I could see that now with some distance.
Perry had stopped to help Mrs Ascot cross the lane and into the surgery after he had seen her stumble.
It was a kind and thoughtful thing to do, but in the mood I had been in, all I saw was his bright red Fiat parked in the no parking zone, and I saw red.
And honestly, that’s how the relationship had been between the two of us, well mostly me.
Perry just seemed bemused by me, which in turn frustrated me.
Rhys touched my arm gently. “You look like you're lost in your thoughts, Doc.”
I let out an amused chuckle. “Woolgathering, wondering how Perry and I came to loggerheads and realising painfully it was me being a stubborn bastard.”
Mouse arched a dark brow. “I think the two of you get off on the antagonism, some weird courting bullshit, kind of like what those mountain goats do, butt heads until they bone.”
I tried to do the mental logic to work that out. “You almost make sense, that beating last night must have helped.”
Mouse cackled in response. “It really did. You should get Perry to give you a flogging it's…” Mouse brought his fingers up to his lips and made a kissing sound. “Perfect, phenomenal, add your own superlative. It’s fucking amazing. The head rush, then the just giving into the pain. I can’t explain it. ”
Rhys gave a shudder and shook his head, his blond curls bouncing.
“I’m not putting any shade on the two of you, but I honestly cannot understand it, but you two probably feel the same about my pop and other stuff I like.
” Rhys blushed, and I could guess the other stuff involved his newfound enjoyment of diaper play with his Daddy Simon.
“We know you’d never kink shame us Rhys, and we more than get why it wouldn’t appeal to you.
” With Rhys’s history and the abuse he suffered, I could more than understand why he would look at the kinds of pain play that Mouse, and to a lesser degree I were into, and it was no different from his love of diapers and dummies.
Neither thing appealed to me. Kink was a spectrum.
as Cal would often say, and no one size fit everyone.
“Okay, I need your advice and keep your smart remarks to yourself, Mouse, until I have sorted out my problem.” Mouse gave me a salute in response, the cheeky shit.
“What advice do you need, old man?” Mouse ducked the marshmallow I threw at him.
Rhys huffed and moved his marshmallow-bedecked drink out of my reach. “Hey! Use your own next time.”
“Where is the fun in that?”
“Okay, okay, before we divulge into a food fight, what exactly do you need advice on?” Rhys dipped his chin and levelled Mouse with a disbelieving look.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, now spill it, Cully Wully. What has your knickers in a bunch?”
I slouched in the booth and let out a pained groan.
“I’ve promised to make Perry a meal tonight, and I’ve no idea what I’m going to cook.
” I couldn’t keep the panic out of my voice.
It had been years since I’d last cooked a meal for anyone, well one that didn’t consist of sausage rolls and hot dogs, the normal things Ben liked me to make for him.
Cooking for another adult and one I might not want to accidently poison with bad cooking.
Mouse sat forward, drumming his fingers on the table. “You looking to impress Perry?”
“Impress, not send home with food poisoning, that is the general hope.” I leant forward, resting my elbows on the table, a serious offense in my mother’s eyes. I would be lying if I said I didn’t get a slight thrill at breaking one of her commandments even after all these years.
“Charlie.” Mouse called the waitress over. “Do you have a spare pen and some paper handy?”
“Hope you’re not planning on drawing dick pictures again and sticking them in all the menus. Poor Mrs Harper still opens the menu like she’s half expecting to be attacked.”
Mouse’s cackle sounded almost evil in its joy. “Nah. not this time. Got to write out a recipe for Cully.”
Charlie shook her head in commiseration at me. She pulled a pad of paper from her apron and ripped a few sheets off and handed them to Mouse. “I find one rude drawing, Mitchell, and you are banned for a month.”
Mouse nodded absently, his pen scribbling fast. “Now you’re going to need to pop to the shops for some groceries, but I can promise you anyone with half a brain can cook this, and it will look like you’re Gordon fucking Ramsey. Well worth the pain of having to face the supermarket.”
“What is it?” I leant over the table trying to get a better look, but it was almost impossible to decipher Mouse's writing from this angle.
“It’s my proper posh chicken bake, or Dijon Chicken to the uncultured. Nice and easy one pan dish, throw in a few spuds, and you have a whole meal and make sure you get the nice bacon for it. Here.” Mouse slid the recipe over to me, and it didn’t look too complicated.
“I might be able to make this and not burn the house down.” That earned me a small chuckle from Mouse and a worried look from Rhys.
“Did you want us to come around and help?” Rhys asked.
“Nope. I was the one who decided that I needed to show off to Perry. Don’t know what the hell got into me.”
“Perry. Or that’s who you’re hoping will get into you if you impress him enough,” Mouse answered.
I tried to hide my answering smirk behind my hand, but both just laughed, catching me out.