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by K. C. Wells


  Patrick was flexing for a customer and getting some very appreciative glances when the door opened and Tommy walked in. Kevin stared at him, mouth open. Damn but the kid looked good. Then he got a closer look at that firm butt encased in those tight-as-sin jeans that hugged Tommy’s muscled thighs like a second skin. Scrap that—Tommy was looking fucking hot.

  “Will you get a load of that?” he said quietly to Patrick, nudging him with his elbow.

  Patrick glanced up briefly and then did a double take. He let rip with a loud wolf whistle. “Damn, looking fine there, Tommy.”

  Just like always, Tommy reddened instantly. He nodded at them both and proceeded to walk around the bar to his customary spot.

  “He been in a fight or something?” Patrick said with a slight frown.

  Kevin had seen the black eye too. Tommy didn’t strike him as the sort to get into a fight. “Where’s Mike?” Kevin asked, not seeing him anywhere.

  “Just gone to get another box of glasses.”

  Kevin chuckled. “This is gonna be interesting.” He peered around the bar to where Tommy was standing. Sure enough, the kid was already glancing up and down the bar. “Oh, I gotta see Mikey’s face when he sees Tommy.”

  “Well, looks like you’re about to get your wish,” Patrick said under his breath, “’cause Mike’s just come back.”

  Kevin jerked his head around to watch. Tommy looked toward the end of the bar just as Mike came around it, box in hand. It was like a moment out of a movie. Mike stopped and stared at Tommy, his eyes wide with shock. Tommy looked Mike up and down and then swallowed.

  Kevin couldn’t help grinning.

  Mike nodded at Tommy. “Hey.”

  Kevin watched those blue eyes flicker downward before they focused on Tommy’s face.

  Tommy became real still, hand gripping the edge of the bar. “Uhhh….” His face was flushed, lips parted.

  Kevin chuckled to himself. Mike had obviously scrambled the circuits in Tommy’s brain. Mike cleared his throat and went over to the table where they’d been setting up the glasses for the midnight toast, like nothing was out of the ordinary. Except he was holding that box a bit lower, hiding his groin.

  Damn, this was fun.

  As the evening wore on, Kevin kept taking a peek at what was going on ’round that side of the bar. Not that he got much of a chance, as more and more guys poured in through the doors. Patrick was doing his fair share of observing the situation too. Kevin could tell from the looks he was getting from Don and Mitch that they wanted to know what the hell was going on. Kevin wasn’t about to share. This was fucking delicious.

  It was past eleven forty-five and Mike was setting up the plastic champagne flutes on trays, smiling and joking with the customers, not to mention getting the occasional pinch on that furry butt when he ventured out from behind the bar.

  Patrick sidled up to Kevin. “Has Tommy taken his eyes off Mike yet?” He chuckled.

  “Uh-uh,” Kevin said, unable to tear his eyes away from the floor show. “And every chance Mike gets, he’s doing some looking of his own.” The two men were like satellites orbiting an unseen planet, never getting any nearer, as if closer contact would have them burning up.

  Mike walked across to the bar. “Wanna give me the champagne and I’ll start pouring?”

  Kevin handed over a case of champagne with a smirk. “Want me to wipe up that drool from your chin, Mike?” He flicked his head in Tommy’s direction.

  “Fuck off,” Mike said with a grin and went back to his task. Kevin couldn’t help noticing, however, that Mike kept glancing at Tommy while he was pouring out the champagne. And when Mike was focused on his task, Tommy was checking out Mike’s ass and legs. Not that Kevin could blame him for that. Mike was one prime piece of meat, especially for his age.

  Of course Tommy looking that fine had been bound to attract attention. Kevin and Patrick had managed to fend off a few of the more persistent admirers, and at one point Kevin had growled at one of them. Yeah, that had worked. Mike had just resorted to telling guys to back off. It was kinda sweet.

  It was nearly midnight when Mike got back behind the bar. The TV was turned up loud, the screen showing the revelers in Times Square. There was a buzz of energy throughout the bar as customers made sure they had a drink ready. There were quite a few guys who were already drunk and getting raucous. Thank God they wouldn’t stay long once midnight had come and gone. Tommy stood up to stretch his legs, his gaze flickering between the TV screen and Mike, who was standing next to Kevin, handing out glasses of champagne.

  Kevin placed a glass in front of Tommy. “Here you go, kid.”

  “But… I don’t….”

  Kevin grinned. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck not to drink champagne on New Year’s Eve? And besides, you’ve been on Cherry Coke all night. You only have to drink a mouthful. It won’t kill ya.”

  Tommy eyed the glass doubtfully and then nodded.

  The countdown to midnight had begun. Everyone in the bar joined in, their voices getting louder as the seconds ticked by, and when the ball dropped, the bar rang to the cries of “Happy New Year!” Kevin looked at Tommy, who was taking a cautious sip of his champagne, and then at Mike, who was watching him do it.

  “Oh, to hell with this,” Kevin muttered. He leaned over the bar, grabbed Tommy firmly by the arms, and heaved him upward to plant a loud, smacking kiss on Tommy’s mouth. Then he released him and grinned. “Happy New Year, kid!”

  Tommy’s mouth fell open, and he staggered back slightly. When he’d recovered, he gaped at Kevin, eyes wide. “Why’d you kiss me?”

  Around him guys were drinking champagne, hugging and kissing, the mood jubilant.

  Kevin snorted and gestured to Mike, who was staring incredulously at Kevin. “’Cause he was too chickenshit to do it!”

  Mike spluttered. “Kevin!”

  Kevin shook his head, laughing. “You know I’m telling the truth, Mike.”

  In front of him, Tommy sat back on his stool and took a drink of his champagne, looking anywhere but at them. He focused on the guys who were drunk, stumbling on their way out of the bar. He kept sneaking glances at Mike, especially when Mike came out from behind the bar or when he bent over to reach something low down.

  Not that he was the only one. Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tommy for more than a couple of minutes at a time. Fuck, it was so sweet.

  At twelve thirty, Don signaled to Kevin and Mike. “Okay, you guys were first in, so you’re first out. Patrick, Mitch, and I got this.” The bar was nearly deserted.

  Mike disappeared for a few minutes, returning dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and his leather jacket, a bag over his shoulder. “Well, that’s me outta here.”

  Kevin grabbed Mike by the arm and flicked his head in Tommy’s direction. “You gonna make a move on that?” Mike arched his eyebrows, and Kevin snorted. “Oh, c’mon, you’ve been staring at each other for long enough, that’s for damn sure.” He peered at Mike. “Do you even know his name?” Beside him, Patrick snickered.

  “I’d be a poor bartender if I hadn’t already picked up on that.” Mike grinned. “His name’s Tommy. Satisfied?”

  “I will be if you get your act together,” Kevin retorted.

  Tommy put down his empty glass and nodded to them. “I… I guess I’ll be goin’ now. G’night… an’ Happy New Year.” His gaze lingered that bit longer on Mike, and then he slid off his stool and walked around the bar, out of their sight.

  Kevin gave Mike a shove. “Go after him, you dumbass. Now!”

  Mike hesitated for about five seconds, and then he sighed. “Fine. See you later. Night.” He walked out of the bar with a wave to Scott and Mitch.

  Kevin grinned at Patrick. “Well, go on, then. Get me a beer and a shot.” He wasn’t about to go out into the parking lot and interrupt whatever was going on.

  Wonder what they’re gonna say to each other?

  Chapter Nine

  MIKE SPOTTED Tommy walking toward a tr
uck parked outside the bar. He watched him approach the vehicle and reach into his jeans pocket for his keys. The action pulled the fabric tight across that glorious ass. Day-um.

  Mike was still unsure what the fuck he was doing out there. Hell, this was all Kevin’s idea. Tommy had barely exchanged more than a couple of words with him the whole night. What does Kev expect us to talk about? Then he recalled that black eye. Yeah, what was that about? It was enough to make him decide that maybe a chat was a good idea.

  “Going already?” he called out to Tommy.

  The young man turned around to face him, his eyes open wide. For a moment Mike wasn’t sure if Tommy was going to reply. Then he relaxed visibly, but only slightly.

  “Well, a guy can only drink so much Cherry Coke.” He stood still, keys in his hand, gaze focused on Mike.

  Grinning, Mike walked slowly over to him. “Well, there is that.” He stopped in front of Tommy. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be here tonight. I’d thought you might’ve been at a party somewhere.” The first sight of Tommy perched on that stool had been a pleasant surprise. Part of his anatomy had certainly thought so. It had only been after he’d watched Tommy for a while that Mike had gotten the impression all was not as it should have been. Tommy had made it to the ranks of the regulars, and Mike had grown accustomed to his shy smile and flushed cheeks, to say nothing of that gorgeous, muscled body. Tonight had been… different, notwithstanding the black eye.

  He took a good look at Tommy. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem yourself tonight.”

  Mike swore the kid’s breathing hitched. Then Tommy took a long, slow breath. “I’m fine. There’s just been a few things goin’ on, that’s all.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Mike was torn. He could walk away now, go home to his warm bed, or…. Something was tugging at him insistently, and it wouldn’t let up. He’d been around long enough to trust his instincts. Just go with it.

  Mike cocked his head. “You wanna go grab some breakfast?”

  Tommy blinked. “At this hour?”

  Mike shrugged. “Sure. The American Diner on Cheshire Bridge is open 24/7, serving breakfast around the clock.” He gave Tommy an easy smile. “How about it?”

  Tommy regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. Then those wide shoulders eased down a touch. “Okay. Breakfast sounds good.” That shy smile was back, the one that did strange things to Mike’s innards. “You wanna go in my truck?”

  “Nah, I’ll take mine and you can follow me. That way we can both get where we need to after we’ve eaten.” Mike reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his keys. “Let’s go.”

  Tommy gave him a nod and then got into his truck. Mike climbed into his own truck and drove the couple of short miles to the diner, Tommy following him. The diner was fairly packed, and they had to wait awhile to be seated. It wasn’t too long, however, before they were sitting in a booth, facing each other. Mike grabbed a menu and handed one to Tommy, and they scanned them in silence. There was plenty of noise around them, everyone talking animatedly.

  “Seems like lots of folks had the same idea,” Mike said once he’d decided on his breakfast.

  Tommy looked around and shook his head. “I didn’t think there’d be this many people havin’ breakfast at this time o’ the mornin’.”

  “Hey there, what you boys havin’?” Their waitress—Lola, according to her name badge—appeared at their table, pad in hand, pen poised.

  “I’ll have the country fried steak, hash browns, two eggs over easy, and biscuits and gravy,” Tommy announced.

  Mike had to smile at that. Gotta love a guy with a good appetite.

  “Coffee with that?” Lola asked. Tommy gave a polite nod. She turned to Mike and gave him an appreciative smile. “What ’bout you, honey?”

  “I’ll have two bacon, two link sausage, two eggs over easy, grits, and whole-wheat toast. Coffee for me too.” Much as Mike would’ve loved the biscuits and gravy, he had to watch his waistline. The camera always added ten pounds, or that was how it felt when he saw himself in the finished product. Mike wasn’t a vain man, but he did have an image to keep up.

  Lola nodded. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.” She walked off, her ass wiggling under her tight skirt. Mike leaned back and clasped his hands together on the table, regarding Tommy. The young man fingered the collar on his shirt and then rubbed the back of his neck. Mike’s gaze was drawn to his blackened eye.

  He pointed to it. “That’s quite a shiner you got yourself there. What happened?”

  Tommy glanced at the table. “I was clumsy, is all. I walked into a door in the middle of the night.” He sat very still, not meeting Mike’s gaze but keeping his eyes focused on the shiny metal tabletop.

  Yeah, right….

  “Mmm-hmm. Wanna try that again?” Mike kept his voice low. When Tommy jerked his head up to stare at him, Mike gave a half smile. “Working in a bar, I get to observe a lot of people. You learn a thing or two about body language.” When Tommy swallowed, Mike softened his expression. “What really happened?”

  Tommy’s shoulders hunched over. “I finally came out to my folks, and it didn’t go so well.” He clammed up when Lola returned with the coffee, waiting until she’d walked away before he continued, his voice ragged. Mike listened in silence, relieved to notice Tommy becoming more relaxed as he got into his story. When Tommy finished, Mike let out a sigh.

  Some people don’t deserve to have kids.

  He picked up his coffee cup and drank some of the aromatic brew before speaking. “Kid, I wish I could say that’s the first time I’ve heard a story like yours, but unfortunately it’s not. I know that’s no consolation for you. I will tell you that it does get better.”

  “I keep hearin’ that,” Tommy said quietly, “but you know what? I don’t see how.” He stared gloomily into his coffee. “My own family doesn’t want anythin’ to do with me.”

  “Now come on.” Mike leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You got a lot going for you. From the sound of it, this roommate of yours—Ben, is it?—has a nice family, and they’ve clearly taken to you. And you’re gonna end up with more family than you ever thought you’d have.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mike smiled. “We don’t get to choose our blood relatives, more’s the pity. But you’re gonna find there are lots of people out there who you will call family—gay guys, their friends and allies, their families…. With all the shit that gets flung our way, we tend to stick together and support each other.”

  “I s’pose.” Tommy sighed. “Can’t be worse than the family I got now, that’s for sure.”

  “And not to take anything away from what you’ve gone through, but you’re one of the lucky ones,” Mike told him.

  “How’d you figure that?”

  Mike pointed to the counter where a clear plastic box sat, stuffed with dollar bills and coins. “See that? It’s a collection box for Lost-n-Found. They’re a charity based here in Atlanta. They take care of LGBT kids that get kicked out by their families, just like you. Only, they have nowhere to go. We’re talking kids that are homeless, living on the street, with no way of fending for themselves. And they’re minors, for God’s sake.”

  Tommy’s eyes glistened. “Geez, when you put it like that, I am lucky.”

  Mike nodded. “See? At least you have a roof over your head.” He knew Tommy was hurting, but he was a damn sight better off than a lot of kids in Atlanta. It would be all too easy to join him in a pity party, but negativity never had sat well with Mike. He’d always been a “glass half full” kinda guy.

  “An’ they said I’d always be welcome there.” Tommy’s face glowed. Mike nodded in approval, pleased that the young man was starting to see the positive side of things. It was a likable trait in a person.

  Just then the food arrived. They both dug in, and conversation dried up for a while. When they slowed down and Lola had brought them more coffee, Mike noted Tommy’s distant expression, the napkin he’d torn up into little pieces.<
br />
  “What’s wrong, Tommy?” he said softly.

  Tommy pushed his plate away from him and sat back. “I was just thinkin’ ’bout my schoolin’.” He grew quiet for a moment, his lower lip caught in his teeth. “My major is in organic agriculture. The whole point of me doin’ this is so’s I can take over the farm.” He looked Mike in the eye. “But if I’m not part of the family, why am I doin’ it? What is the damn point of this degree?”

  Mike thought for a moment. “Who pays for your schooling?”

  “I’m on a full scholarship, plus there’s my college fund that Momma set up.”

  “Okay, that’s good.” A scholarship pointed to Tommy being a bright student. That made things easier. “Then maybe you need to have a think about where you go from here. That might mean changing your major. Maybe there’s something else you’d rather study.” When Tommy’s brow furrowed, Mike instinctively reached across the table and took hold of his hand. “And you don’t have to start thinking right this minute, all right?”

  Tommy glanced at Mike’s hand covering his own and nodded, his cheeks pink.

  Mike released him and sat back. “Now let’s change the subject. How are you finding Atlanta?” He drank some more of the strong coffee.

  Tommy chuckled. “I don’t rightly know how to answer that. I’ve not really seen much of Atlanta.”

  Mike gave a theatrical gasp. “Well, if that ain’t a shame. Kid, you’re living in the gayest city in the South! How can you be a student here and not have sampled the gay delights of Hotlanta?”

  Tommy’s chuckle was music to his ears. Mike studied him for a moment, taking in his body language. Tommy had to be in his early twenties, but there was a vulnerable air about him, something that made him appear younger. Then it struck him.

  Hell, this kid needed looking after. And Mike was just the man to do it.

 

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