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Jasmine & Vikram

I’m not what you think. But I’m not lying. —can’t that be enough?

By AJ Langley Published 3 years ago 11 min read
1

The woman in the mirror was pretty. The backless black dress was sexy without being too revealing, coming up high on the chest and slipping down just above the knee. With black tights etched in elegant, lacy flowers and black, kitten-heel pumps, the outfit was stylish, elegant and seductive. James felt truly beautiful—and, for the first time, was about to share that beauty with the world.

Stepping out of the apartment, into the city, and onto the subway, James was no longer James. Jasmine stepped through the door to the cozy wine bar, heels tapping gently against the creaky wood floors. Two other couples sat in the dimly lit, intimate space, but no one that resembled Vikram. Jasmine was right on time, and Vikram would probably arrive soon. Taking a breath and holding her black purse to her hip as she approached the bar, she sat down on the stool.

“Hey, there.” A bartender in a black lacy bandeau, a loose black tank top and short, spiky black hair approached. “Can I get you something?”

“Um,” Jasmine spoke softly, her voice light and gentle. “How about dry red? Not too sweet? Whatever you recommend.”

The bartender smiled. “You got it.” She ducked under the counter and returned with a half-filled, dark red bottle. Pouring a sip into a stemless wineglass, she passed it over. “Try that. Let me know what you think.”

Jasmine took a sip, letting the velvet-dark wine amble around on her tongue. The sweetness was subtle, mingling with a mild bitterness warming the back of her throat. She nodded, extending her glass. “That’s good. I’ll have a glass. What is it?”

The bartender turned the bottle to show the label. Gnarled vines drawn in black ink covered the bottle. As she turned the it, golden eyes glinted through the vines. Underneath, the word Sehnsucht crawled across in slithering text.

“It’s a German merlot. It’s pretty good.”

Taking another sip, Jasmine savored the dusky taste. It reminded her of something daring. Or maybe that was just how she felt. “I didn’t know Germany made wine. It's really good.”

The bartender laughed. “Pretty much everywhere makes wine. Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.”

Sipping her wine, Jasmine checked her phone. Vikram was ten minutes late and half of her hoped he wouldn’t show.

Why did I go out the first time on a first date? It seemed insane to do now. What if he sees? Jasmine swallowed. What if he gets mad?

The bell over the door tinkled. Jasmine turned. A brown-skinned man with black hair tied up in a bun, a dark, trimmed beard, black-rimmed glasses and a knee-length sweater scanned the space. His dark eyes connected with Jasmine’s and he smiled.

Oh shit. He’s even cuter in person. Smiling and nodding to him, she took another sip. It’s just a date. Chill out.

Vikram crossed the room and stood next to her. “Hi. Jasmine, right?”

Taking a breath, Jasmine caught the light scent of balsam and orange as she looked up at him. “Yeah. Hi. It’s nice to me-see you. Meet you. See you.” She blushed. Scrunching her nose, she shook her head. “Sorry.”

Vikram chuckled, a warm sound. He sat down on the stool next to hers. “That’s okay. I’m sorry I’m late. I was on the wrong street.”

“Oh.” Her voice got softer, higher. “Was it hard to find?”

“No, no. I’ve actually been here before. I was just in the wrong place.” He shook his head, playing with the wooden beads around his neck. “That’s what I get for not using Google Maps.”

Jasmine smiled, nodding, unsure of what to say. Sitting next to him, feeling his warmth, his glowing smile, his ember eyes, his hot body not hidden in the grey t-shirt and black sweater, Jasmine’s thoughts turned to cinders.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asked.

“It’s a German merlot.” She extended the glass towards him. “Would you like to try it?”

“Sure. Thank you.” His fingers skimmed hers as he took the glass, sending sparks into her bones. Taking a ginger sip, he thought for a moment, savoring the taste. “Mm. I’m getting notes of...” He licked his teeth, considering.

Jasmine raised her brows, waiting. Oh, god. Is he going to explain wine to me the whole night? Though she had only been feminine in public this one time, she knew the type that liked to over-explain to their dates—her friends had dated him.

“...yup, tastes like wine.” Vikram chuckled. “Sorry, I don’t really know anything about wine. I drink it—but I’m more of a 12.99 bottle kind of guy.”

“Oh, thank god. I’m the same way.” Jasmine laughed. “I can taste the differences, but I’m not getting notes of oak or anything.”

“Are you more of a red wine drinker, then?” Vikram asked, gesturing to her drink.

“Usually, yeah. But I’ll take a dry white here and here. I like a good vodka and a good whiskey, too.” She shook her head. “Ugh, that makes me sound like a bit of a drunk, huh?”

“No way, I’m the same. Irish whiskey.” Nodding, he winked at her. Jasmine’s heart fluttered. “Have you ever heard of Arrack?”

Jasmine shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. What is it?”

“It’s sort of like...” Vikram played with the wooden beads around his neck again, thinking. It was a gesture Jasmine thought she would quickly come to adore. “Whiskey meets rum. It’s strong, but a little bit sweet. The good stuff is mostly in Sri Lanka.” He tilted his head. “In my opinion, I guess. A lot of people like the stuff from Indonesia, too, and it’s not bad.”

“Do you go around the world finding alcohol?” She gave a testing smile.

Vikram smiled back. “Pretty much. I—”

The bartender moved back down the bar, wiping her hands on a towel. “Sorry about the wait.” She looked at Vikram. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll take a dark red, a little bit sweet, if you have it.”

She thought for a moment. “I think I know something.” Crouching down again, she took a bottle and poured crimson into a glass.

Vikram took a sip and nodded. “Yeah, that’s great.”

The bartender set the bottle on the table. “I like this one, too. It’s a Greek merlot. A little lighter, a little sweeter.”

Jasmine studied the bottle. A silver clockface with no hands, one open eye and one closed eye covered the label. Underneath it, the dreamy text; Kairos.

“Want a sip?” Vikram offered.

Taking a breath and pulling in his pine and citrus scent again, Jasmine folder her fingers around his as she took the glass.

His wine was lighter, lingering on her tongue instead of her throat, with a sweet taste like blackberries restrained by something stronger, like ouzo. Jasmine handed it back. “I like it.”

Vikram studied her. His warm, brown eyes made her dizzy. “Which one do you like better?”

She tried to consider it, but was unable to pull herself from his gaze. “I, um… I’m not sure.”

After a few minutes, Vikram ordered a charcuterie plate and Jasmine ordered a wine flight. They experimented with the tastes of sweet cheese spread over salty crackers and zingy olives on sharp cheddar, washed down with a tour of velvety, red wine. The oenophile bartender gave them a tour of the rich, dark, artfully-cared-for grapes from distant lands, from California to India, Australia to Morocco, Italy to Chile.

They experimented with the tastes of sweet cheese spread over salty crackers and zingy olives on sharp cheddar, washed down with velvety red wine. As they traded flavors, their hands skimmed over each other's. The wine diminished and fleeting touches became a hand on a shoulder, knees touching one another's, fingertips grazing over a forearm.

As they tasted the flavors of the world, Vikram shared stories from the beautiful, wild, historic and strange places he had been around the globe. As a lifelong resident, Jasmine told him about the city and everywhere he needed go and everything he needed to know. As the wine disappeared, she told him about a few particular clubs that might shock him, despite his worldly experience. He merely nodded, smiling, and Jasmine couldn’t tell if he knew what she was referring to, or not.

As the plate dwindled down to crackers and bread and the last sips of wines remained, Jasmine found her head buzzing. She didn’t know how long had passed—the other patrons had long since left, and others had come and gone. Being with Vikram was so easy ; she didn't notice the time passing. They laughed and shared stories, traded knowledge and interest, fascinating each other. Jasmine found herself trying to keep up with his mind, and didn't realize her anxieties about her body fading away.

The bartender sidled back down the bar. “Hey, you two. We’re closing up. You ready to cash out?”

“Sure.” Vikram pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Let me get this.”

“No, no. No way.” Jasmine’s voice dropped unexpectedly. She cleared her throat. Shit, that wine is getting to me. “Let’s split it.” Her voice returned.

He shrugged a shoulder. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.” She laid a hand on his warm, strong shoulder. “We split all the food and drinks. Only fair to split the bill.”

After signing for each half of the bill, Jasmine and Vikram headed out of the wine bar, the last patrons left. The door closed behind them both, releasing them into the warm, night air of the city outside. The street behind and in front of them was empty, the streetlights bathing the brick, concrete and asphalt in glowing orange, electric firelight.

Vikram took Jasmine’s fingers gently in his. “This was great.” He smiled at her, the hope in his brown eyes shining in the lamplight.

Jasmine felt the uncertainty in her smile. “It really was.”

Vikram’s expression weakened. “But?”

“No,” Jasmine shook her head, looking down at the sidewalk and holding his hands tighter. “No buts.” She dared a look back up at him. “You’re so fun to be with.”

His bright smile returned. “You too.”

Regret coiled around Jasmine’s hurt, and squeezed so hard she thought she'd taste blood when she swallowed. “Vikram, I have to tell you something.”

He took a step closer. “What is it?”

Jasmine bit the inside of her lip. “I’m...” She didn’t know the words to explain. I’m not what you think. But I’m not lying. She swallowed. I like you so much—can’t that be enough? At least for now? “I’m not always like this.” It was all she could think to say.

Vikram held her gaze. “I think I know what you’re trying to say. And I get it. And I’d like to see you again.”

With a humorless laugh, Jasmine shook her head. Cheeks burning, head spinning, she struggled to speak. “I don’t think you do.”

Taking a bold step closer, Vikram linked his arms around her back, bringing his warm body closer. “You’re trans.” His look into her eyes didn’t change. “I’m sure there’s a lot of other stuff that I don’t know. That’s okay. I had a great time. I’d love to do it again.”

Jasmine’s heart lifted out of her chest. A broad grin split her lips. For a moment, she struggled to reply. Then, “I would too.”

“Good. Can I ask you something?”

Jasmine felt her soaring joy at risk. “Um. Sure?”

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, a fresh, uncontrollable smile emerging. “Yeah.”

Taking her face gently in his warm hands, Vikram softly kissed her lips. Jasmine took a sharp breath, his scent filling her head. He gave his long kiss slowly, his lips shifting over hers, savoring her from every angle.

When he pulled away, his eyes were still closed. A small smile turned his lips.

“I’ll, um… I’ll talk to you soon,” Jasmine said, struggling to let go of his hands.

His eyes lit up again, taking her in. “You too.”

Letting go of his hands, Jasmine felt the warmth of his skin lingering as she walked down the street. Looking over her shoulder, she caught him looking back.

dating
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About the Creator

AJ Langley

AJ - they/them - working on exciting, sexy and heart-warming stories for all types of folks.

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