The Bohemians Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

  Torquere Press Publishers

  P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770.

  The Bohemians by Sean Michael Copyright 2003

  Cover illustration by BSClay

  Published with permission

  ISBN: 978-1-61040-925-4

  www.torquerepress.com

  All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. LLC, P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770

  Second Torquere Press Printing: June 2015

  Printed in the USA

  The Bohemians

  By Sean Michael

  Chapter One

  Quincy loved visiting the flower shop. It started with the name, high black letters on a white facing “Pistil and Stamen”. It sounded dirty, raunchy, like nature at its most base.

  It was a corner shop with huge glass windows on two sides. It always contained the most exquisite displays that must have taken hours to produce. There was a new one on the first of every month and the flowers were changed often enough that they were always fresh.

  He walked in off the hot street into cool perfection. The air was soft and gentle against his skin, a light aria playing, soothing his ears, replacing the sounds of the street.

  The owner, Stephan, was at the wide counter where he put together his amazing creations. The brown hair was mussed, glasses perched on the end of the aquiline nose. The countertop was scattershot with color, flowers of all sorts and sizes spread out around the man and the vase at its center.

  There were only three flowers in the vase so far, two purple tiger lilies and one yellow one in between them. Stephan caressed the stem of the yellow flower, long, sensuous fingers sliding up and down the green tube as the man murmured.

  Stephan looked up as Quincy approached the counter and gave him a distracted smile. “Do you have a minute? I need to talk Tigra into letting me sit her with a few of her lesser brethren. They’re such fussy children, yes?”

  He smiled but didn’t laugh as he had the first time he’d come into Stephan’s shop. The man was a genius with flowers and it was well worth the time spent to be patient and wait for your very own customized creation.

  “I’ll just look around, see what kind of stock you’ve got in today.”

  Stephan beamed at him. “Wonderful! There’s a half dozen buckets of wildflowers in the far fridge -- weeds some might say -- but the wild ones hold a beauty all their own.”

  His nod was wasted, Stephan already back to his coaxing among the flowers.

  Quincy made his way slowly over to the glassed fridge Stephan had indicated -- wildflowers wouldn’t do for Barney’s wife, but he’d been planning to pick himself up a bouquet for his own desk.

  The masses of blooms were beautiful, mad colors everywhere. He’d picked out a nice, bright, cheery bunch, when a soft husky voice sounded.

  “There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.” The accent was dead on, and he turned to see a clown in a purple tunic and multicolored pants, burnished hair wild, tied here and there with bits of strings.

  “There’s fennel for you, columbines: there’s rue for you; and here’s some for me. You must wear your rue with a difference. There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died.” Thin fingers plucked a stem from his bunch and he received a quick grin. “Happy day. Is our flower master in?”

  Quincy blinked and then blinked again when the apparition didn’t disappear. “At the counter, trying to make the tiger lilies behave.”

  “Oh, they are growly beasties, aren’t they?” A lilting laugh sounded and the slender man disappeared toward the counter. “Stephan, lily of the valley and master of blooms! Bright day! I come to deliver your lunch and see if my marigolds have arrived.”

  Stephan looked up from a much fuller vase with the same distracted look Quincy had been treated to earlier. “Topaz! I knew I’d forgotten something this morning. Leo sent you?” A small frown furrowed Stephan’s brow. “He didn’t want to come himself?”

  “Don’t be silly, daisy-head. He’s in the middle of a piece and wanted to make sure you had your hummus and tabouleh. He says he’ll be off early, though, to help you move the heavy buckets in the back.”

  Stephan’s face cleared and Quincy could see the brown eyes glowing, even from here. “Thank you, Topaz. And your dancing marigolds are in line after Quincy’s wildflowers. Of course if you gave him a hand you could have your dear ladies sooner.”

  “Anything for you, Stephan.” Another soft giggle sounded and then the thin face appeared in front of him. “Can I help? I mean, besides quoting Ophelia, I can tell you the healing medicines in the flowers you’re holding and read your palm and make them all pretty in a vase.”

  “You can make my palm and the flowers look pretty in a vase?” Quincy let one eyebrow quirk. “I’m afraid I’m going to need the palm attached to my arm if I’m going to get anything done.”

  Oh, he was flirting. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that anymore.

  That grin widened and his hand was patted. “Oh, okay. If you insist. I’ll leave the palm attached. You have beautiful eyes. I like them. What color vase?”

  “I usually let Stephan work his magic,” he admitted. “You look like you might have magic, too.”

  Way to stop flirting there, Quince. Not to mention this guy was all wrong for him. Not at all his type. And you’ve done so well with your type in the past, taunted a little voice.

  “Oh. I do. My magic’s a little different than Stephan’s, but it works. It works.” The quick fingers pulled out a cobalt vase. “To go with your eyes.”

  “As long as you put in something to match yours.”

  “There I’m done -- do you two need help?” called Stephan.

  “No, daisy. We’re fine.” Topaz smiled up at him. “I think we’re just fine.”

  “Yeah.” Quince nodded, smiling, feeling himself start to fall for that smile. Fuck, he’d just never learn, would he?

  “Excellent.” The smile that answered him was all warmth, all peace. “Come sit down and we’ll make art. What’s your name? When’s your birthday?”

  “Does that make a difference to the arrangement?” he asked, following this very strange pied piper.

  The man found a spot on the concrete, pulling a square of fabric out to settle on. “Of course it does! The flowers should resonate with you. Come on, sit!”

  Grinning, he did, not quite sure whether he was being conned or not. “Quincy Williams and my birthday is the third of June.”

  “A Gemini!” Snowdrops got added to the vase. “A twin. How clever, how fun!”

  “I’m an only child.”

  “You are? Were you lonely?” Columbines, pastel and fragile, went in next. “I was an only child.”

  He thought about it for a moment -- no one had ever asked him the question before. “No -- I was spoiled and cosseted, but I wasn’t lonely. Not then.”

  “Are you lonely now?” One bright blue daisy was added, nestled into the pale blooms.

  They’d somehow gone from light and flirting to was he lonely now and he wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten there or how much of himself he was willing to reveal. There was something about this man though... maybe it was the crazy pigtails. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  “Yeah.” Almond-shaped eyes the c
olor of dark honey shone at him. “There’s a cure for that. Geminis need friends. It’s good for air signs.”

  “Oh? And what’s your sign?” He blushed hard as the words passed his lips. Had he really said that? Out loud?

  The odd little man laughed happily. “Pisces, Gemini rising. Very fun, yes?”

  “Does that mean you’d make a good friend?” he asked, embarrassment giving way to the man’s laughter. The man was infectious, in a good way, and Quince had to bite his tongue to keep from asking him out. He asked a different question instead. “And what about your name? What is it?”

  “Topaz.” A series of delicate brown flowers were interspersed amongst the blue. “And I’m a great friend. No question. I love to play.”

  “Topaz... it suits you.” And it did, it fit with the odd way the man was dressed and coiffed. “I haven’t played in a long time. I hope I haven’t forgotten how.”

  Those eyes fastened onto him. “I don’t believe you could. Your eyes want to be happy.”

  “Yours want to have fun.”

  Quince lowered his gaze to the vase, gasping a little at the arrangement. It was wild and free and shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Kind of like Topaz himself.

  “You like?” He wasn’t sure if Topaz meant the arrangement or those eyes.

  It didn’t matter though because his answer was the same either way. “I do.”

  He looked back up, met Topaz’ eyes.

  “Yeah, Gemini. I do too.” Those thin fingers grabbed some twine and a bit of this and that from deep pockets and a simple adornment was on the vase, a blue bead and a tiger’s eyes hanging on a bit of copper wire.

  Quince reached out, brushing his fingers over it. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His fingers were touched, caressed. “If you decide to play, I’m at the Loft -- the artist’s co-op -- in the weaver’s shop. I’m very interested.”

  “I’ve got your marigolds, Sunshine,” Stephan called out. “And a lovely cluster of crocuses for my Leo.”

  Quince started at the sound of Stephan’s voice, but found a smile for Topaz. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you there.”

  “I would enjoy that.” He was handed his vase and then Topaz stood, and headed toward Stephan, singing, “For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.”

  Quince went in the same direction more slowly, freezing as Stephan laughed and grabbed Topaz by his neck, taking a happy kiss.

  “Now, now. What would your mountain man think?” Topaz smiled and hugged Stephan. “Bright blessings, Daisy. And Gemini, do come to play, please? Your eyes are addictions!”

  With that, the whirlwind disappeared out the door with a laugh.

  Stephan gave him a smile and he thought the man was going to say something about him and Topaz, but the brown eyes lighted on his flowers.

  “Oh! How wonderful! The perfect combination. They suit you. And what do you want for the boss’ wife? Something big and showy I’ll bet. I just received some orchids in the most brilliant colors.”

  And just like that the moment was gone. It was probably for the best, Topaz wasn’t his type, he had a horrible track record and the last guy he’d been seeing had taken out his heart and stomped it into little tiny pieces. Okay, so that was a bit melodramatic, but it had hurt and he’d declared it the last straw.

  Still, nine months was a long time for a man to be celibate and he couldn’t help hoping that something might come of the flirting. Or maybe it was just the wildflowers and Mozart lending him some optimism.

  Chapter Two

  Topaz parked the bicycle in the back yard and backed into the kitchen, bags in hand. “Daisy? Ku? I brought tomatoes and cilantro and some spinach on my way home from Rosa’s. They had beautiful honeydews, too.”

  Grinning Leonaka grabbed the sacks with huge, calloused hands, shiny black hair held back in a braid. “What did she say, Topaz?”

  He sighed, heading for the refrigerator for some tea. “She said I have to wait for him to come to me. That the spirits want me to be patient and calm.” He poured a glass and then brought the pitcher to the table, refreshing Leo’s and Stephan’s before kissing Stephan’s cheek. “I don’t do patient so well, Daisy.”

  Topaz settled into a padded chair, watching Leo wash the food in the bright, sun-drenched kitchen. One of the kittens climbed up for her love, his fingers stroking her soft ears without hesitation.

  Stephan smoothed the edge of Leo’s t-shirt down with graceful fingers and then came over and began to rub his shoulders. “You don’t do patient well? Leo, do you believe that?”

  “Little bit, I have seen you sit for hours and hours, untangling a single skein of thread. You might be eager, but you are the most patient man I know.” Leo chuckled, gaze warm. “He’s that special?”

  Topaz relaxed under Stephan’s magical fingers, the worries and negative energy of the day fading. “You should see his eyes, Ku. There’s something about them. Something I want to know all about.”

  “They are a pretty blue,” Stephan added. “I haven’t seen you this excited about someone in a long time, Sunshine.”

  “Oh, Daisy. It’s been so long since I had a soul mate. Someone who looked at me like Leo looks at you.” He turned his head, kissed Stephan’s fingers. “I know you two love me, but part of my heart is missing. Maybe making those eyes laugh is a piece of that.”

  He heard Ku’s soft cluck, the worried sound that meant that Leo was sure he was leaping into open air without a net. Again.

  Stephan’s hands tightened on his shoulders and then pet him gently, his friend sitting next to him. “How can we help, Sunshine?”

  “Rosa did my cards, Daisy. She says he’ll come. That I should be still.” Topaz grinned, taking Stephan’s hand in his. “That doesn’t mean we can’t let the universe know I’m interested though. I’m thinking some long meditations, a cleansing bath, a few candles lit in hope.” He gave Stephan a grin. “Maybe some more wildflowers?”

  Stephan grinned back, brown eyes dancing. “From you? Or anonymously? I could start small -- a single marigold and work up to romantic. Something every day.”

  Leo started chopping, knife flashing in the sunlight. “And beads, I think. A blue one for memory. Violet for love. Ruby for passion.”

  “Perfect,” murmured Stephan, fingers sliding over the cloth on the table, tracing the patterned stitching. “Your Gemini with the blue eyes will be coming for you in no time.”

  The scent of roasting tomatoes and basil filled the air, the kiss of garlic behind it. “With your magic behind me, Daisy? I don’t doubt.”

  Brown eyes found him, Stephen’s hand reaching out to trace his cheek, Stephan never quite trusting his eyes to tell him the whole story. “Anything for you, Sunshine.”

  Oh, he loved them. Loved them both dearly and couldn’t manage without. Topaz dropped an open-mouthed kiss onto Stephan’s palm. “You’re the best of me, you and your mountain man.”

  The kitten -- Cerridwen, he thought it was, though it might have been Hera -- chose that moment to stretch up, peek into Stephan’s hand and rub her little cheek, adding her touch with a mew. Leo’s chuckle filled the kitchen. “Someone grab the plates and someone else pull the bread out. Supper’s on.”

  Stephan’s fingers lingered for a moment longer and then a kiss was dropped on his head. “I’ll get the plates. Those nice mosaic once Dehafra made, the pattern on them really is lovely.”

  Stephan moved with his usual grace, hands sliding over Leo as he passed his lover.

  Topaz put the kitten into her basket with her siblings and went to wash his hands, grabbing the loaf of peasant bread and a ceramic tub of honey butter, sampling the pasta while his best friends lost themselves in a kiss.

  Stephan looked more than a little dazed when they broke apart, setting the plates on the table with a soft smile and faraway eyes.

  Topaz started singing, something sweet and sexy he’d learned at some ren faire, teasing his friends as they got ready for supper. Soon hi
s Gemini would be here, would see this, would come play. Soon.

  Chapter Three

  Stephan locked up the shop, pocketing the keys, and made his way down the block. It was early evening, a light breeze carrying the smell of lilacs on it. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and listening to the evening birds beginning their song just below the sound of the street itself.

  It was late enough that the bulk of rush hour traffic had left the downtown core and the people walking were out and about shopping, going for supper. Laughter and happy chatter and the smell of lilacs and the hyacinths in his basket.

  Lovely.

  He opened his eyes and continued his way on down to The Loft to pick up Leo and Topaz.

  The front door was open, inviting the smells and breezes and passers-by in.

  “Hello lovers,” he called out.

  The soft clack-clack of the loom answered him, Topaz’s happy cry of “Daisy-love!” echoing through the tall wooden ceilings

  Leo’s lower rumble sounded, those rich almost-black eyes shining from the display where he was placing two new vases -- one bright green, one a delicious rose red.

  “Oh, lover, I must have the red one for my peach roses!”

  He made his way to Leo, reaching for the vase, eager to learn its textures.

  Topaz’s laughter was warm, so happy. “I told you, Ku! I knew he’d fall in love with it.”

  Leo handed the smooth, round vase over, the crackled texture fabulous and intriguing. His lover leaned toward him and offered a slow, deep kiss. “I thought of you as I formed it, of your cries when you come.”

  “Oh... “ A shiver went through him and he held the vase close so that he didn’t drop it. “I’m going to use it for my peach roses in the window and then I will use it as the base of a bouquet for lovers -- pass the happiness on, yes lover?”

  Stephan put the vase back and slid his hand along Leo’s cheek, fingertips picking up the slightest hint of stubble.

  “Yes, my Stephan-love.” Leo’s eyes were warm. “By then I will have made you another. How was your day?”