by Kenovay
The red car in front swerved suddenly, and JC narrowed his eyes. "Fucking pissheads." But they'd left a space, and he dodged his car into it quickly, missing the other car by an inch, and raising two fingers cheerily as the car hooted loudly at him. He was feeling rather satisfied, until he glanced in the wing mirror. And saw what he'd just passed so carelessly. Fucking car full of skinheads. "Shit."
He glanced ahead, and saw that the traffic jam came to a complete standstill in the bottleneck of the road over the bridge. Oh, Christ. He glanced in the mirror again. The skinheads didn't look happy. He reached out and clicked the locks down.
He slowed to a halt, and the red car drew up next to him. JC stared steadfastly ahead, refusing to acknowledge the shapes that were getting out of the red car and coming over to his own Mini. Someone knocked on the window. "Hey, batty boy!" JC heard the muffled voice, and prayed to God that the traffic would move ahead soon.
"He's a fucking wimp," another voice said, and a face was pressed grotesquely to the window. "Gay boy, you overtook us."
JC reached out with slightly shaking fingers and switched the radio on, turning it up loud, wincing as he realised what was playing. "Ooooh, he's listening to Avril Lavigne." Another voice had joined the jeering. JC gripped the steering wheel. Someone banged hard on the top of the car.
Fuck, someone was shot in a traffic jam on Kingston Bridge, weren't they? Oh God, will you fucking move! There was muttering from outside, and then someone knocked on the window. JC turned his head slowly. Oh fuck, thank God, Justin. He wouldn't be murdered, at least. Justin mimed winding down a window. JC regarded him warily, and then turned the radio down.
"Josh, you're Josh, innit?" JC nodded. "Sorry about that." Justin jerked his finger at the retreating shapes of the other gazzas. JC wound down the window.
"Yeah?" He regarded Justin cautiously, poised to wind the window up again.
"Yeah, sorry. They're fuckheads, innit? They damaged your car?" JC shook his head. "Man, it's dark. A Mini!"
"Yeah�" JC was unsure of how to respond to him.
"Yeah." Justin seemed at a loss too. "Um. Yeah. So you shouldn't overtake people, innit?"
"Yeah." JC was starting to feel more confident, now that the immediate threat was removed.
"So. Um." Justin glanced around at the traffic as though it was intensely fascinating. "You wanna go out� like. Sometime?"
JC opened his mouth to respond, then stopped as his brain caught up. "A date? You're gay?"
Justin blushed an uncomfortable red. "You're not?"
"No, I am." JC surveyed his co-worker with renewed interest. He wasn't that bad-looking, shaved head and Adidas clothes notwithstanding. He had an earring, which was always good. And he wasn't� murderous. "Yeah, okay. Sure." The traffic ahead began to move, and JC put his car into gear.
A broad grin spread across Justin's face. "Is it? I'll� talk to you tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
Justin nodded, and walked back to the red car, the grin still spread across his face.
***
JC looked nervously around the restaurant. The whole day had been edgy, with Justin looking at him every time he brought a cup of coffee into the office, and now he was severely regretting his suggestion that they come here. He's not going to have a clue which cutlery to use, he fretted, and winced as he heard Justin's voice from across the room, pitched just slightly too loud.
He looked up as Justin lowered himself into the seat opposite. At least the hoodie and trackie bums were gone, replaced by a checked shirt and tight jeans. He was still wearing the cap, although as JC looked at it, it was removed with a sheepish smile. "Alright?"
JC nodded. "And you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Yeah." Justin looked around. "Bit upmarket."
"Not as bad as it looks."
"Innit? So. We� this the menu?" JC nodded solemnly. He had stopped fretting, and was instead suppressing his amusement. Justin opened the menu, and his face fell. "French."
"Yeah." JC took pity. "You want help?"
"Please." Justin had a charming smile, JC noticed absently. "GCSE French was a while ago, innit?"
"Longer for me."
"Yeah." Justin looked downcast. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-three. You?"
Justin picked at the tablecloth. "Is it? Um. Younger."
"Over twenty?"
There was a mumbled "no" from across the table. JC resolutely didn't smile.
"Legal?"
"Course."
JC left the subject alone. "Menu? Move round here, I'll show you." Justin pulled his chair round and sat stiffly as JC spread the menus out. "Right, so that there is pork."
"Not that dumb," Justin said, relaxing a little.
JC grinned. "And this, Justin is a men-you. Where foods are lis-ted." He dodged the gentle thwap aimed towards his head, and looked back at the menu. "Beuf is beef. Poulet is chicken. Poisson is-"
"Fish," Justin said. "Not that bloody long ago, innit?"
"Ungrateful git," JC muttered. "Let's try it this way, then. What don't you know?"
"Champignon?"
His accent was quite good, JC noted with surprise. "Mushroom."
"Vari� coquillages?"
"Varied shellfish."
"Yuck. No seafood, yeah?"
"That cuts out� this lot." JC placed his thumb at the beginning of the seafood dishes and stretched to put his forefinger at the end.
"What's the word for frog's legs?"
"Not sure. It's not here, anyway. Something like jambe de grenouille."
"They don't serve them?"
Justin actually looked disappointed. "Why? You wanted them?"
"It's an experience, innit?"
"You want something traditionally French?"
Justin shrugged. "Nah. They have burgers?" He grinned at JC's sigh. "And frites?"
"Barbarian," JC muttered, then smiled at Justin's surprising little giggle. He was actually enjoying himself, he realised. Good God. "And to drink? Shall we get a bottle of wine?"
Justin shook his head. "Not enough, money, innit?"
"I'll pay," JC told him on a sudden impulse. "It's been a while since I treated myself."
Justin shook his head again, more firmly. "Can't let you do that. Not fair, innit? I asked you."
"It's fine," JC said in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you to pay."
Justin narrowed his eyes. "I could pay," he said tightly.
JC recognised the danger. "I'm sure you could," he said sincerely. "But so can I." There's no way being office boy pays enough. It'd clean him out.
"I'll pay for myself, though, innit?"
"Say I was to get a bottle of house red for myself. I couldn't not share it with my date."
Justin looked unhappy. "Yeah."
JC nodded. "Well, there we go. Shall we order?" Justin nodded, and JC looked around until he caught the eye of a waiter. He ordered fairly quickly, aware of Justin's still-lowered brows and sullen look. This is going to spoil the evening completely. "Justin, honestly, it's no trouble. I want some wine."
Justin shrugged and nodded. "Yeah."
