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Authors: Unknown
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stared over at Azzo. “Should I be worried?”
“Could be fun.”
As the crowds grew, closer to the bars and clubs still open at this time of night, they walked apart, then came back together, their hands always tangled, never letting go. Azzo kept Toby on his left side, walking between him and the people standing outside for a smoke.
“Could be fun?” Toby asked, incredulous and too loud over the music and conversation.
“I’m not saying that. Jesus, Toby, what are you saying?”
“You said ‘could be fun’!”
Azzo laughed, pressing his forehead to Toby’s shoulders, and when Toby put his arms around him, he could feel Azzo shaking with it. “You’re so easy.” He smacked a kiss on Toby’s cheek, wet and loud. “Bet you’re thinking about it now.”
Someone called their names from the far end of the bar. Toby had to stop to say hi to Veronika behind the bar, and she demanded a kiss from Azzo, too, who didn’t often come out with them. Toby went out after service less and less, too. They had done their time, when they were kids, in dingy bars like this.
The back room was quieter, but not by much. The guys from Tanuki brought a huge platter of sushi, and Toby could smell roast chicken. The food at restaurant after-parties was the best.
Josh and Lina, a couple they knew who also worked in separate restaurants, grabbed Azzo’s attention. Toby said hi, but they were all pastry chefs, and the conversation quickly turned shop. They held hands, and Toby stood close, pressing his chest to Azzo’s side, but he scanned the room, quietly enjoying the excitement between friends after such a long day.
His eyes locked on Mike, leaning back against the bar. Toby gave him a smile. The look on Mike’s face wasn’t as obvious, and then he turned away. Toby was still watching as he talked to the bartender pulling pints, and when Mike walked their way he had three glasses in his two hands.
“You looked thirsty,” he said, letting Toby take the beers from his hands. Toby passed one to Azzo, who raised it in a toast of thanks.
“Keep this one, Toby.” Azzo turned fully toward Mike, holding Toby with a hand low on his back, their bodies curved together. “This is your job now,” Azzo explained to Mike. “Making sure my neurotic husband doesn’t implode by the end of the night.”
“Is he prone to doing that?” Mike asked. He took a big gulp of his beer, keeping his face in the glass.
“No,” Toby argued. “I’m extremely capable and very professional.”
Azzo chuckled deep in his chest. “He’s high-strung, and a Saturday night theater crowd will send him hiding in the kitchen.”
“I never hide,” Toby said, but he admitted to himself that he liked seeing Mike and Azzo getting along, even if it was at his own expense. Their tiny circle of three felt like an island in the big room filled with chefs, cooks, bartenders, servers and the rest of the late night crowd. They were turned and tuned into each other, and the way Mike kept looking the two of them up and down, Toby was ready to invite him somewhere quiet.
“How about coffee?” Azzo said, his beer not even half-empty. Toby was only sipping his. He already felt light-headed, in the stuffy back room, with Azzo holding him so close.
Mike nodded along with Azzo’s suggestion. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, but not from the beer, Toby could tell. He could tell by the way Mike was sure on his feet, but his free hand was rubbing over his thigh, wiping dry his sweaty palms, and when Toby looked down, he saw Mike hard in his trousers.
“There will be more of these parties,” Azzo said. “You’re not missing much.”
He led them both to the bar, where they dropped their glasses. Toby took one more gulp of beer, then they slipped out without saying good-bye. He wasn’t ready to explain this to Mo or Josh and Lina or Veronika behind the bar. Toby wasn’t sure he could explain this at all.
“This isn’t where I thought the night
“Could be fun.”
As the crowds grew, closer to the bars and clubs still open at this time of night, they walked apart, then came back together, their hands always tangled, never letting go. Azzo kept Toby on his left side, walking between him and the people standing outside for a smoke.
“Could be fun?” Toby asked, incredulous and too loud over the music and conversation.
“I’m not saying that. Jesus, Toby, what are you saying?”
“You said ‘could be fun’!”
Azzo laughed, pressing his forehead to Toby’s shoulders, and when Toby put his arms around him, he could feel Azzo shaking with it. “You’re so easy.” He smacked a kiss on Toby’s cheek, wet and loud. “Bet you’re thinking about it now.”
Someone called their names from the far end of the bar. Toby had to stop to say hi to Veronika behind the bar, and she demanded a kiss from Azzo, too, who didn’t often come out with them. Toby went out after service less and less, too. They had done their time, when they were kids, in dingy bars like this.
The back room was quieter, but not by much. The guys from Tanuki brought a huge platter of sushi, and Toby could smell roast chicken. The food at restaurant after-parties was the best.
Josh and Lina, a couple they knew who also worked in separate restaurants, grabbed Azzo’s attention. Toby said hi, but they were all pastry chefs, and the conversation quickly turned shop. They held hands, and Toby stood close, pressing his chest to Azzo’s side, but he scanned the room, quietly enjoying the excitement between friends after such a long day.
His eyes locked on Mike, leaning back against the bar. Toby gave him a smile. The look on Mike’s face wasn’t as obvious, and then he turned away. Toby was still watching as he talked to the bartender pulling pints, and when Mike walked their way he had three glasses in his two hands.
“You looked thirsty,” he said, letting Toby take the beers from his hands. Toby passed one to Azzo, who raised it in a toast of thanks.
“Keep this one, Toby.” Azzo turned fully toward Mike, holding Toby with a hand low on his back, their bodies curved together. “This is your job now,” Azzo explained to Mike. “Making sure my neurotic husband doesn’t implode by the end of the night.”
“Is he prone to doing that?” Mike asked. He took a big gulp of his beer, keeping his face in the glass.
“No,” Toby argued. “I’m extremely capable and very professional.”
Azzo chuckled deep in his chest. “He’s high-strung, and a Saturday night theater crowd will send him hiding in the kitchen.”
“I never hide,” Toby said, but he admitted to himself that he liked seeing Mike and Azzo getting along, even if it was at his own expense. Their tiny circle of three felt like an island in the big room filled with chefs, cooks, bartenders, servers and the rest of the late night crowd. They were turned and tuned into each other, and the way Mike kept looking the two of them up and down, Toby was ready to invite him somewhere quiet.
“How about coffee?” Azzo said, his beer not even half-empty. Toby was only sipping his. He already felt light-headed, in the stuffy back room, with Azzo holding him so close.
Mike nodded along with Azzo’s suggestion. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, but not from the beer, Toby could tell. He could tell by the way Mike was sure on his feet, but his free hand was rubbing over his thigh, wiping dry his sweaty palms, and when Toby looked down, he saw Mike hard in his trousers.
“There will be more of these parties,” Azzo said. “You’re not missing much.”
He led them both to the bar, where they dropped their glasses. Toby took one more gulp of beer, then they slipped out without saying good-bye. He wasn’t ready to explain this to Mo or Josh and Lina or Veronika behind the bar. Toby wasn’t sure he could explain this at all.
“This isn’t where I thought the night
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