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SHEPARD
"Yes, I got the cheeses you wanted… I don't know, whatever was on that list you gave me."
I've seen my fair share of airports. I travel extensively for work. And I've seen, not everything, but A LOT. Breakups, makeups, tearful reunions, terse goodbyes, and on one memorable occasion, the weirdest proposal ever. A stranger having an increasingly annoyed-sounding phone conversation is pretty low on my list of interesting things to pay attention to.Especially since there's another passenger waiting here with what I assume is some kind of emotional support goat. It's wearing a green jumper with little purple wings attached, and is quite possibly the most well-behaved goat in existence. Quietly sitting with its charge, resting its head on her lap while she gently strokes it. Not gonna lie, it looks super calming, and I wonder if it might help the cheese guy's nerves if he could also stroke this little goat's head.
"Um, no. No, you definitely agreed to send me the money for this…"
"What the… you KNOW I'm on an apprentice's salary… I can't afford to spend an entire week's wage on one bloody bag of fancy cheese!"
"Oh don't play that card with me, I TOLD you I had to pay for this trip myself…"
"Yeah well I guess this isn't the fucking olden days is it?"
Another passenger takes a seat, and both me and the goat turn to take in our new arrival. They're wearing a blue dragon kigurumi, and their long wavy hair is dyed in similar shades. It's half pulled up into a messy little bun, and the whole effect is kind of like seeing a water spirit on their day off. The goat gives them a tiny bleat (of approval?) and returns its head to its owner's lap, who immediately gives it a gentle scratch between its little horns.Cheese guy is pulling agressively at his curls. That can't be good for his roots.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW? You do know Jamie is lactose intolerant right?! You seriously expect me to believe that this was for his birthday?!"
"Not that bad… What the fuck? How about I stuff you full of poison and see how YOU fare?"
At this point another figure enters my field of view. An immaculately groomed man in a three-piece suit, who looks like he'd be more at home in the first-class lounge than out here with us motley crew. He's staring at cheese guy, which, fair. But not in a "what a loud and obnoxious person" sort of way - which I might expect from someone who looks like he does. More in a flustered, stupefied, stopped-in-my-tracks-by-beauty sort of way. Well. This could get a whole lot more interesting.Suit man folds himself gracefully into a chair close to cheese guy. He places his hands on his lap and stares straight ahead, almost aggressively, like he's trying his best NOT to look at the man seated one small side table away. Cheese guy is staring at the floor and shaking. He looks remarkably like a golden retriever that's been possessed by an angry chihuahua.
"Sure, go ahead. Go tell Mum that you were hoping to land her brother in hospital, and that I thwarted your plans by refusing to give you £300 worth of cheese. I'm sure that'll go down REALLY well!"
"WELL THAT'S BASICALLY WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE TO ME!"
At this he finally pulls the phone away from his ear and angrily smashes the screen to end the call. Then he hangs his head down between his legs. "Fucking arsehole," he mumbles at the floor.I take a closer look at him, while he's preoccupied with getting his breathing under control. He has the air of a tradesperson about him—grubby workboots, jeans that are functional rather than fashionable, and a well-worn t-shirt with a dubious in-joke on it (Blacksmiths: we get it hot and hit it hard).He's also very much built like someone who might work manual labour—broad shoulders, defined biceps, calloused knuckles, and a plethora of scars and burn marks which mingle with the plentiful freckles on his arms. He mentioned being an apprentice—with a blacksmith I presume, which would explain both the burns and the t-shirt.His sturdy-looking backpack is possibly the most expensive part of his outfit, but there's still no way in hell that thing has a secret cooler compartment. And he has £300 worth of cheese in it? We've already been delayed by an hour, and our flight—when it finally happens—will be another couple of hours on top of that. No wonder he's frustrated. I would be too. My mind goes to the emergency crackers in my own backpack.I wonder if he'd be interested in selling some of it off?
SIMON
Fucking Davy.This isn't the first time he's pulled this type of shit, but it's the first time I might end up late with rent because of it. I know I could ask Gran, lord knows she's offered to help enough times, but telling her about this would probably just make her angry. I know how she feels about him. Besides, I made a deal with myself that I was going to make my own way with this apprenticeship, and I'm almost there. Just one more year until I'm fully qualified to start my own forge.I don't think Davy understands why I don't just live off the family money, but I want to be able to say I at least attempted to earn my own way in the world. Unlike him.Why Mum has let him back in her life after he abandoned us twelve years ago is something I may never fully understand. I know Gran feels the same, but she won't talk about it, and the few times I've bought it up with Jamie over a few pints, he just says some tosh like "love makes us stupid".Well. Fuck that. I hope I never fall in love.I look up at the departures board to see that my flight has been delayed by another hour. Fucking hell. What am I supposed to do with all this bloody cheese? I have a moment where I consider throwing it away—it would serve the tosser right—but that feels horribly wasteful. I then begin to wonder, idly, if it would be weird to offer it to my fellow passengers, and finally look up to properly take in my surroundings.The bloke sitting opposite me has smooth dark skin, John Lennon glasses, and a denim jacket covered in patches and badges. I spot a rainbow flag and what looks like a UFO among them. He also has one of those faces that puts you immediately at ease, friendly and approachable. He's scribbling in a notebook, the tip of his tongue poking out as the pen moves across the page. A few seats along is a girl… maybe. It's hard to be sure exactly. They're wearing a dragon onesie, and they're engrossed in a thick book, their legs tucked up on the seat. They look comfy as fuck. I wish I had a dragon onesie. Maybe I'll mention it to Gran - she's always looking for presents she can give me. (I think it's her way around me not taking any of my inheritance yet.) Opposite the dragon, just a few seats away to my left, is an incredibly calm looking lady with a dirty blonde bob, and a…. I gasp. Audibly."Your goat is adorable!" I can't stop myself. I mean, it is. Adorable.It bleats appreciatively, and the lady responds in a soft cockney voice. "Thanks love, he's a good'un." She turns to address the goat, and gives him a scratch under the chin. "You're a good'un aren't ya Nicky?" The goat makes happy little noises. "I never leave home without him."That makes me smile. "You're never alone then."She smiles back, and it takes some of the edge off my anxiety. "What a lovely way to think about it. No, I never have to face the world on my own." She gives the goat—Nicky— another scratch between his horns. "I'm Ebb by the way.""Simon." I reach out a hand to shake the one she offers me. "I wouldn't expect to see a goat at an airport, I have to say. Most of the goats I've met have been right bastards."Shit. Why did I say that? I'm basically insulting her pet. I swear my filter is non-existent when I'm stressed.Fortunately she lets out a hearty guffaw at that. "They are!" She's laughing so much she's practically crying. "Most of the other goats I've had were complete arseholes when they wanted to be. Nicky's a bit different though. He was a rescue. His ma passed away when he was just a day old, and I took him in. So he's been around me more than he's been around other goats. He still chews my socks sometimes, but overall he's not bad."That makes me smile again, and reminds me of my quest to deal with my cargo."Can he eat cheese?"
BAZ
My flight has been delayed further, but I'm already at this infernal airport. My only choice now is to either sit at a cafe, or at the gate. Can someone please remind me why I decided to take this trip again?
"Christ's sake Basil, don't you ever have any fun? Take some fucking leave. Go brood over different old paintings. Wander round a different museum. Find someone to shag that you'll never accidentally bump into at the local. Be a fucking human."
Right. Cheers for that Fiona. I took her advice, mostly. Saw lots of different old paintings, wandered through several museums, but avoided all human contact wherever possible. Despite her insistence that I'm clearly a vampire—else I would have chosen a sunnier destination for my getaway—I'm depressingly human, and barely more relaxed than I was before this little jaunt.Airport cafes are always a disappointment. I may as well wait at the gate.As I approach, I can hear someone having an agitated one-sided conversation. Wonderful. Another person who doesn't seem to have a grasp on public phone etiquette. Perhaps a mediocre cup of tea would be preferable to having to listen to this. Except I'm now at my gate, and when I see the offending party… I find myself frozen to the spot.Has Eros himself descended to the mortal realm to dwell amongst us? With his skin adorned with freckles and his face crowned with tortured bronze curls? What manner of fiend would dare to torment such a beautiful creature? Whoever is on the other side of that phone call deserves to have Cerberus throw them around like a chew toy.
Hey look Fiona, I'm taking a risk. I'm sitting as close as possible to a gorgeous man in the hope he'll notice me. I'm sending up prayers to the entire Greek pantheon—and some Norse deities as well, just in case—that he's queerer than a nine-bob note. I'm desperately hoping we end up seated next to each other on the flight. Aren't you proud of me?
Whatever Fiona's reaction might be, I have indeed taken a seat near the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He's very upset over some cheese by the sound of it, and before long he's angrily ended the phonecall, and is trying to calm himself down. I have a brief, but utterly mad thought that he would be welcome to lay his head in my lap so I could stroke his hair. I keep it to myself.His attention has been caught by the goat on his other side, and although I have to admit that it is quite adorable, I do also wonder what kind of person takes a barnyard animal on a commercial flight. Then again, who am I to judge? If I had an emotional support animal, I'd never leave home without it either.Actually, that's not a bad idea. Perhaps I should look into that. Or maybe Eros here would volunteer to be that emotional support animal for me.I tune back in to the conversation in time to hear them exchange names. Simon. It suits him. In a "mundanity touched by the grace of the gods" sort of way. I just barely keep myself from sighing out loud. Maybe Fiona was right. Maybe I'm not fully human. I can't even have normal thoughts about a man I've only just laid eyes on.I hear him ask the goat's companion—Ebb was it?—if the goat can eat cheese, and I'm reminded of the bottle of sauvignon blanc I picked up as a last minute present for Fiona. She never has to know.I extract the bottle from my carryon, clear my throat as politely as possible, and ask, "I'm afraid I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about the cheese. If you're amenable to eating some now, I can offer this as an accompaniment?"He turns then, "Oh wow, thank you…" on his lips. Except he doesn't quite get it out. He just stares at me, struck dumb. His eyes seem like such a boring blue, but I don't know that I've ever seen that shade anywhere else. God, he's gorgeous. I'm totally fucked.
SIMON
What was that I just said about never falling in love? Not that I believe in love at first sight. Though maybe I do believe a little bit in infatuation at first sight. Or "what the fuck how is this person real he's like a fucking statue come to life" at first sight. Because seriously. What The Fuck?He has these intense stormy grey eyes, and soft wavy black hair, and his nose has a slight crooked edge to it. You'd think it would look off, but somehow it just makes him that much more attractive. I swear, if I hadn't already come to terms with my queerness, I'd be having a full-on gay crisis right now.He's offering up a bottle of wine, and has what I'm choosing to interpret as a hopeful expression on his face. He wanted some cheese? He can have all the bloody cheese, and anything else he likes. Meaning me. He's very welcome to have me. Fucking hell, I have never had this reaction to someone so fast before. Or maybe at all.I'm still just staring at him, my mouth doing a more than passable goldfish impression. I should say something before he gets put off."Simon." It comes out sounding ragged and breathless.He lifts a single eyebrow, which, how? It might just be the sexiest thing I've ever seen. (Again though, how?)"I mean me. I… er… Simon." I just point at myself. My words are going to fail me anyway."I'm Baz. Pleased to meet you Simon." His voice is like velvet. I want to hear my name come out of his mouth again and again. He's holding out his hand, and I'm almost embarrassed to take it. My hands look so knocked about and haggard compared to his. But I'm not fool enough to let this opportunity to touch him pass me by, so I do shake his hand, and I discover that the tips of his long, elegant, fingers hold mysterious callouses. Intriguing.He's still clutching the bottle in his other hand, and I remember why."Cheese! Yes. I have… cheese. A lot of cheese. My mum's ex…"I'm going to get upset again if I think about him now."Well anyway… would you like some?"He gives me a soft, but mischievous smile, and holds the wine up. "I'll share mine if you share yours?"
SHEPARD
I've been watching this unexpected meet-cute unfold before my very eyes, and I honestly don't want to interrupt. But I'm reminded of how long ago I ate, and how long I might have to wait before I eat again, and I kind of want in on this impromptu picnic date."I have some crackers in my bag if you'd like some." I remember how torn up the cheese guy—Simon apparently—sounded on the phone. "And I'd be happy to buy some of the cheese from you."He turns and gives me a beatific sort of smile. "You would? That's… that's so kind of you.""No problem! I didn't get much chance to taste any while I've been here, and I've heard good things, so it's like I've been given a second chance! I'm Shep by the way."More introductions are made between all the members of our little group, and Baz wanders over to a coffee cart to obtain some paper cups for us while Simon gets the cheese out of his luggage and sets it on the small table to his side. He wasn't exaggerating; it's a lot of cheese."Woah. I mean, I overheard you say how much this was worth. But I still was not prepared for like, how much there is."He sighs sadly."My mum's ex is Welsh, and when he heard I was coming, he gave me this list of cheeses that he apparently missed. I didn't think much of it, because at the time I didn't realise how long the bloody list was. But yeah, this was absolutely over the top. I'm pretty sure I've seen most of these in my local Tesco, and I'd be willing to bet that he's never even tasted half of them before.""If you'll forgive me," I start, "it seems like he's not your favourite person. So why agree to getting all this for him?"At this point Baz has returned with the cups, some napkins, and has also managed to procure a disposable knife from somewhere."Good lord! That is quite a collection," he exclaims when he sees the spread. "Oh is that a Perl Wen? I tasted some yesterday, it should be quite lovely with the wine… Thank you New Zealand for using screw tops…"He cracks open the seal on the wine, and pours four cups—Ebb declined—and Simon starts cutting into the soft round of cheese and placing it on the crackers I offered.The dragon kigurumi-wearing person introduced themselves as Sini, but then told us to just call them 'Blue'. It seems they've been here for work, and they're waxing lyrical about 'Electric Mountain', the big hydro power plant in north Wales. I ask if a kigurumi is usual business attire for hydrologists, and they just laugh and say that comfort on airplanes is serious business. I personally couldn't agree more, and wonder how Baz can possibly be comfortable in a three-piece suit. It looks completely natural on him though, like he's spent his whole life wearing that kind of thing.I've given up on Simon answering my earlier question; it was kind of invasive after all. But after a few crackers and some wine, he's lost some tension in his shoulders, and begins to talk a bit more."I guess… he's not just my mum's ex. He's technically my dad, though I don't think of him that way. He walked out on us when I was eleven, and my mum was devastated, even though he was always a bit of an arsehole." He takes another mouthful of the wine, and continues. "They reconnected a few months ago, and… I don't even know why. Mum seems happy, but… I don't really trust him. He keeps asking me why I'm doing an apprenticeship, and why I didn't go to uni like he wanted me to, and why I'm not using my inheritance money…""You know," Ebb has a soft, but commanding voice, "it sounds like he still thinks he's your father, and has some say in how you live your life. But he doesn't deserve that role, after leaving you. Even if you weren't an adult.""That's what I told my mum!" Simon replies, "but she still wants me to try and get along with him at least. Which would be easier if I didn't feel like I wasn't living up to some unknown standard he has no business applying to me." He huffs, and shoves another cracker into his mouth. "This is some seriously fucking good cheese.""Well, it sounds to me like you definitely deserve this cheese more than he does," Baz interjects. "Especially as he was trying to put someone in hospital with it? Or did I get the complete wrong end of the stick there?""Oh my god… yeah, no he…" Simon stops and takes a breath, and then continues, "so he said he would reimburse me for the cheese when I got back, right? And I didn't really worry about it until I was handing my card over and realized exactly how much it all cost. And then it was like, well fuck, because I don't have a bus or train ticket to get me home once I get to London, and now I have no money, you know? So that's why I called him. To get him to send me the money now."He takes another breath, and Baz pours him some more wine. He takes a sip before carrying on."But the arsehole tried to convince me that it was for my uncle's birthday party this weekend, and that I'd agreed to get it as my contribution to the event. And even if I had said that, which I definitely didn't, my uncle is severely lactose intolerant. Why the fuck would I buy him a pile of cheese?"He stares sadly at the floor for a moment."Anyway, this kind of shit is why I don't trust him. Sometimes I feel like maybe he's trying to get my inheritance out of me, or maybe using my mum for her money… it feels awful to think of someone doing that, but…"He just shrugs. I guess there's not much else to say."People aren't always what you'd hope them to be, unfortunately," I reply."Mmm, I think my father might agree with you there," Baz responds, laughing hollowly."Why is that?" Simon has such a earnest face; he'd be so bad at poker."Well, he really hoped I'd get an economics degree, and marry a nice girl. I've disappointed him on both counts."Blue cuts in with a mischievous tone, "Did you marry a nasty girl?"Baz almost spits his wine out, but manages to swallow before laughing heartily. I don't miss the way Simon gazes at him then, before succumbing to his own giggles with the rest of us."I think he'd probably accept that outcome," Baz eventually gets out, "unfortunately the girl is the important bit.""Oh," Simon replies in a small voice. "Huh. I haven't even thought about what my mum's ex would say about my being queer. Not that it's any of his business. Maybe he'd hate it and finally leave me alone."He grabs another cracker, and eats it while staring idly into space. Baz is staring at him, though I can't quite interpret his face. He's a lot more closed off than Simon seems to be.Blue helps themselves to a little more wine, and then holds their cup up. "Well, here's to subverting parental expectations!""I'll drink to that.""Cheers!"
BAZ
He's queer. Simon is queer.I know that doesn't automatically make him interested in me, but I feel like my chances have at least improved somewhat. He said he didn't have a way to get home once we reach London; maybe I could offer him a ride, or my spare room for the night.Yeah, that wouldn't be weird at all Basilton. Totally normal behaviour.I put more cheese in my mouth so that none of my insane thoughts can manage to escape containment.
BLUE
This might be the most fun I've ever had while waiting for a delayed flight. Shep is full of interesting stories from his travels, and Ebb's goat enjoys getting head scratches - which I'm more than happy to provide. Baz is being generous with his wine, and Simon is sharing some truly delicious cheese.Despite his difficulties with his family, Simon seems like a genuinely lovely person. Several people, curious about our little party, have stopped by and offered him money for some of the cheese. And he's been beside himself with gratitude every time. I can't help but feel like he should be wrapped up carefully and kept safe—though his choice of profession completely counteracts that.I suspect that Baz has similar feelings. I notice how he keeps looking in Simon's direction, like he's been shot with one of Cupid's arrows and is trying (and failing) to resist. I also notice Simon looking back at Baz. I do hope they get to sit together on the plane. From the sound of it they could both do with some more affection in their lives. And even though they look so different—they're like the Sun and the Moon—there's something about them that just clicks.I know I shouldn't ship real people, but… I'm rooting for these two.Before long I hear an announcement that our plane is finally here, and that boarding will begin shortly. Simon has managed to reduce his cheese stash considerably thanks to the kindness of several strangers, and he's held on to a few that he said sounded tasty enough to keep. Baz has taken our used cups and knife to the closest bin, but not before figuring out that he and Shep would be seated next to each other on the plane. Not quite the outcome I'd hoped for, but then I spy Simon's boarding pass and see that he's seated next to me.A plan is forming. I turn to Shep, and ask if he'd be amenable to swapping seats. "I remember you mentioned having visited Dinas Emrys, and I didn't get any time to do so this visit. I'd really love to hear more about it." I feel like my face is doing crazy things in an effort to transmit my desire to give Simon and Baz a chance to have more time together. Whatever it is, it seems to work though, as he responds with, "Oh! Yes, I would love to tell you all about that. That is, if that's ok with you Simon? My seat's near the door so you might have to rescue us all in the case of an emergency though."Simon looks up at the sound of his name. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I don't mind where I sit. I think I could manage the door if I had to," he adds, with one of his charming grins. "Well, if it's ok with Baz, anyway.""If what is ok with me?" Baz has returned and looks questioningly at us all."Blue wanted to chat more with Shep about his travels, and wanted to know if I'd swap seats with him. I'm ok with it, if you don't mind having me as a seat mate?"A complicated series of expressions tries to take over Baz's face, but he manages to look fairly unphased as he replies with a placid, "Not at all. I'd actually really love to hear more about your blacksmith training." I don't know if he's trying to hide it, but I don't miss his pleased look once Simon has turned away."That's settled then," Shep says with a large smile, as they all make their way to the line forming at the door. I spot Ebb giving me a knowing smirk as she gets her things together. "Good job," she whispers to me as I grab my carryon and head to the queue.I feel a little bit like a guardian angel.
SHEPARD
A few hours later we've landed in London, and I'm waiting for Blue near the restrooms—we're both on the flight heading to New York—when I spot Simon and Baz at the baggage carousel. Simon is hoisting a heavy-looking Samsonite case off the conveyor while Baz gazes on appreciatively. Then Simon gathers up the duffel already sitting at Baz's feet, gives him a dazzling smile, and they move off companionably in the direction of the taxi rank. Maybe I'm imagining it, or maybe I'm just hoping to see it, but they look oddly comfortable together. Odd to me, I suppose, because I know how little time they've actually known each other. To any other bystander they probably look like people who were intentionally travelling together, rather than a pair brought together just a few hours ago by an absent father's bizarre desire for a hoard of cheese.I watch them fondly til they pass out of sight, at which point Blue emerges from the restroom. "Looks like Baz and Simon might have formed some sort of friendship, at the very least," I inform them. They look delighted, and I add, "I managed to exchange numbers with Simon, so maybe I'll hear more about it. I hope it all works out for them.""Yeah. Me too."
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SIMON
When I open my eyes the next morning, I'm momentarily disoriented. This isn't my room. This isn't my bed. And I'm pretty sure I've never been brought a morning cup of tea by anyone this attractive in my entire life. Memories from yesterday all crowd into my head like pigeons on a pile of birdseed.There's the vague horror at the cheese shop bill, my flight being delayed, Davy being an arsehole, Ebb and her goat, Blue with their dragon onesie and humorous comments, Shepard and his kind demeanour, and Baz… Baz.
Baz.
I'm in Baz's apartment. I'm in his bed. He's still looking at me the way he spent half the flight looking at me. Like somehow I was the missing piece of a puzzle he didn't even realise he was building. I've never been drawn to someone like I am to him. It didn't even occur to me to reject his offer of a bed for the night, rather than try and get a bus home. Anything that allowed me more time with him was a good thing. It felt completely natural to stop in at his local corner shop for some milk and bread. To put my leftover cheese in his fridge. To push my hands into his soft hair while I kissed him in response to his tentative request…
Can I kiss you?
God yes. Yes please - I responded enthusiastically. And so we kissed. In the kitchen. In the shower. In this bed. Until we both succumbed to the exhaustion of travel. I haven't slept that well in months. Perhaps years. I could get used to this. To him.To us.He places a steaming mug next to me and then takes his own round to the other side and climbs back in. I immediately open my arms in invitation, and he smiles shyly and snuggles in with a contented sigh. Yeah, I could definitely get used to this."I don't have very much in the way of breakfast to offer you after being away for a while, but I could definitely make you…"I wait for him to continue while I nuzzle into his hair, and then eventually say, "Carry on."He looks up at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and says, "Cheese on toast?"We both dissolve into giggles.
BAZ
Someone remind me to thank Fiona for making me take that trip.
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