Love on the Rocks (Bar Tenders)

by Melanie Tushmore

  Still unsure, Justin asked, “How’d you spell that?”

  Yena looked at him, this time in disbelief. “Y-E-N-A,” he said flatly. “Look”—he glanced along the bar—“I’ve got to serve someone else, can you…?”

  He didn’t say hurry up, but Justin heard it clearly. He felt slightly deflated at being rushed. “Oh, sure. Sorry.” He handed over a note, which Yena whipped out of his hand before he had a chance to say anything else. As he marched off to the till, Justin glanced at Tam, frowning at him in confusion.

  Tam shrugged in answer. Either he didn’t know why Yena was cross, or he didn’t care.

  When Yena returned with the change, Justin decided to lay on the charm. “Keep it.” He smiled warmly. “Put it towards tips.”

  Yena looked surprised. “But there’s over five quid here.”

  Justin waved it away. “Please.”

  “All right.” Yena glanced at him, unsure. “Thanks.”

  “You’re wel—”

  Yena turned away, and that was that.

  “—come.” Justin snorted. “Well.”

  Tara was already sipping her drink, oblivious to Justin’s troubles. “Mm, these are good.”

  “You bet.” Tam raised his drink, catching Justin’s eye. “Cheers, dears.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Justin picked up his glass to down a large amount. Cocktails always made things better. He scanned along the bar, looking for Yena.

  What’d happened? Had Eric’s interruption annoyed Yena somehow? Or was it something else? Justin couldn’t work it out.

  Chapter Two

  AS ERIC had promised, the bar’s patrons did thin out as the night wore on. As it approached one a.m., the bar staff weren’t as rushed and were able to slow down and chat more.

  Well, Justin noticed that Eric did most of the chatting. He guessed Eric was the supervisor, from the laid-back way he asked his staff to carry out jobs, confident they wouldn’t say no. It left him free to mix drinks slowly and flirt for all he was worth.

  Eric flitted back and forth to their spot a number of times, managing to keep up a conversation with them. He oozed confidence, and was very good at eye-fucking. Even though Justin noticed Eric doing it to a number of his male customers, including Tam, when Eric turned his intense gaze on Justin, it was hard not to succumb.

  But someone else kept drawing Justin’s attention, and that someone appeared to be keeping his distance. In contrast to Eric’s overconfidence, Yena was almost shy. They couldn’t have been more different; Eric had height, good build, sculpted arms, perfectly styled blond hair, and the straight nose and sharp cheekbones of a model.

  Not all that different from himself, Justin thought. If he were more buff, more middle of the road, he’d probably be an Eric. Whether they’d be a good match in bed was tempting to find out. All the drinks had made Justin’s body warm and wobbly anyway; if he was going to bottom tonight, Eric looked promising.

  But….

  Justin couldn’t stop gazing at Yena. There was something about him. Justin’s instincts told him that if he went to bed with Yena, then he’d be the one to top the cute brunet—and Justin liked that thought, he had to admit. He wasn’t sure what it was about Yena, if it was the vibes he gave off, but he’d be willing to bet money Yena was more submissive than dominant.

  Those thoughts, and watching Yena behind the bar, had Justin’s cock hard. He wriggled atop his barstool, adjusting himself. But his attempts to chat with Yena kept meeting a brick wall.

  “Do a shot with me,” Justin asked, before Yena could rush off again.

  He paused, and just when Justin thought he might refuse, Yena agreed. “Okay. What do you want?”

  “Whatever your favorite is,” Justin insisted, at his charming best.

  “My favorite happens to be the most expensive on the menu,” Yena returned, deadpan.

  Damn. “That’s fine.” Justin fished in his wallet. “You, er, take cards, right?”

  An amused smile spread on Yena’s face. “Yes.”

  “If he’s buying, we’ll all have shots,” Tam pitched in. Justin glared at him but didn’t refuse. Yena began to make the shots, using a mixture of spirits and liqueurs.

  “So.” Justin turned back to Yena, determined to make him talk. “Where are you from?”

  “Croydon.”

  “But… okay, I meant, where are your family from?” Justin floundered. “I mean, with your name an’ all.”

  “My mum is half Indian.” Yena concentrated on the drinks, rather than Justin.

  “Ooh, like me,” Tara said. “I look like I’m tanned, but this is my natural color.” She offered her bare arm on the bar, and surprisingly Yena joined in, setting his hand beside her. Their caramel skin tones were remarkably similar. “Aw, twins.” Tara giggled.

  Yena smiled at her, and Justin felt jealousy twinge in his gut. His own skin was milky white; peaches and cream. By the time Justin had gotten over his annoyance and figured out something new to ask Yena, the drinks had been dispensed, and Yena was waiting to be paid. Justin handed over his card, wincing at the thought of his expanding overdraft.

  While Yena fed the card into the handheld machine, he knocked back his shot before Justin had even grasped his. Uncertainty quashed Justin’s usual confidence. He wasn’t used to men not wanting to flirt with him.

  Maybe Yena wasn’t gay?

  Yena finished the transaction and handed Justin his card and receipt. As Justin reached for them, Yena’s fingers brushed his. Justin looked up in time to see Yena looking at him before he focused back on the bar. A brief smile teased those plush lips and disappeared.

  It struck Justin at once. He’s shy. But his mouth worked faster than his brain, and the next thing he blurted out was “What time do you finish?”

  Yena looked at him in surprise, dark eyes blinking. “What?”

  “What time do you finish?” Justin repeated.

  “Umm, late.”

  “What time?”

  “We shut at two,” Yena said. “I’ll be cleaning till three.” He stared back at Justin, almost like a challenge.

  Justin liked a challenge. Smiling broadly, he said, “That’s cool. I’ll wait.”

  Yena returned the smile, though it had an edge to it. “Hang out if you want. I’ll be going straight home when I’m done.”

  With that, he walked off. Justin was left staring after him, not sure if that’d been a yes or a no.

  Tam, too, seemed confused. “Did he just shoot you down?” he hissed along the bar. “What the fuck kind of answer was that?”

  “Goodness,” Tara said, grabbing Justin’s arm. “Don’t faint, Justin. Someone just turned you down.”

  “Umm, excuse me.” Justin frowned at both of them. “Can you two butt out? That wasn’t a no. He’s obviously playing hard to get.”

  Tara laughed hard, and Tam joined in.

  “Shut up.” Justin’s frown turned into a glare. “He did not turn me down.”

  “Does this mean you’re not into Eric?” Tam looked up like a meerkat, searching for the blond bartender. “Because I’d love a ride on that.”

  “Fine, I release my dibs, if you release yours.” Justin couldn’t care less about Eric at this point. Yena had gotten under his skin, and Justin wanted to scratch that itch.

  “Ooh.” Tam winked at him. “That keen, are you?”

  “I could say the same for you,” Justin grumbled back.

  “Justin,” Tara said in surprise. “Stop grouching and cheer up, would you? Have a little patience.”

  At that, Tam laughed again. “Patience? Him?”

  AS IT turned out, Tam didn’t hang around until closing. He received a text from a mysterious booty caller, downed the last of his drink, and made to leave. “See you at rehearsal on Monday!” he called to Justin before dashing off.

  Tara groaned. “Do you want me to leave, too, Justin?”

  “No,” Justin said. “Let’s hang out. If I wait here on my own, it’ll look too desperate.”


  “Thanks a lot.” She laughed. “Buy me a drink, then, before they call last orders.”

  Despite all the flirting that’d gone on before, Justin was surprised when Eric didn’t follow up on anything or anyone. After last orders were done, he closed down the tills and took the drawers of cash away, disappearing through a door behind the bar. Justin assumed he was doing the cashing up.

  A few minutes later, the music was shut down and the lights turned on bright. Patrons grumbled and tried to order more drinks, but the bar staff weren’t serving any longer. They began a methodical cleanup of the bar, chatting among themselves. Justin recognized the obvious relief at having a busy weekend shift over and done with.

  He watched Yena working, noting the differences in him. He seemed more animated, chatting and joking with his colleagues as they tidied up and scrubbed down surfaces. Yena really did have a beautiful smile, and when he was relaxed he smiled a lot. His voice was still soft, even in the vacuum of quiet that the music had left. Justin had to strain to hear him at times, though his laugh was easier to hear; Yena had a low, dirty chuckle. Its sound produced wicked images in Justin’s mind, except he feared he was far too drunk now to do much about that.

  Even Tara was flagging, almost dozing off at the bar. One of the other bartenders poured out a pint of water, leaving it in front of Tara with a wink. “Thanks,” Justin said.

  The evening wasn’t exactly going according to plan. He made one last ditch attempt to flirt when Yena came close by. “So, Yena,” he ventured, enjoying saying the man’s name. “You gonna come out and play?”

  Yena gave him an amused, wry smile, but it wasn’t encouraging. “I’m going home,” he stated, as if it were obvious.

  Too drunk to feel embarrassed, Justin pressed on. “Where do you live?”

  “Clapham.”

  Justin opened his mouth to quip, I’m sorry, but Tara stirring in her seat distracted him.

  “’M goin’ to the loo,” she slurred, staggering off in the direction of the toilets.

  She was so drunk. Justin knew he wouldn’t be able to leave her anywhere like that. Even if he put her on a night bus back north, she’d probably fall asleep and end up in Edgeware. Thinking quickly—considering he was drunk too—Justin made Yena an offer. “We live in Camden,” he said. “Well, Chalk Farm. Come home with us, I’ll show you a good time. My bed is really comfy.”

  Oh, the thought of bed was so appealing. Justin longed for his bed. The thought of Yena in his bed with him was even more yummy. He watched the man’s reaction, and got more nervous every second that Yena remained silent.

  When Yena smiled but shook his head, Justin’s hopes sank. Why wouldn’t he say yes?

  “You’re drunk,” Yena said softly.

  “I’m not that drunk,” Justin insisted. “Anyway, I come with a guarantee.” He smirked at his own joke.

  Yena didn’t seem amused. “That’s nice, Justin. Look, you should know, I’m not into N.S.A.”

  Justin blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

  “N.S.A.” Yena repeated, now looking embarrassed. “No strings attached. I’m not into that. Maybe you can wait for Eric.” An edge crept into his voice. “I’m sure he’d be interested.”

  Lost for words, Justin wasn’t sure what to do. Yena must have taken his silence a different way, as he marched off, leaving Justin alone at the bar.

  What the fuck?

  Justin was still trying to figure it out by the time Tara made her way back. “Justin, are we leaving now?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess so.”

  It took a while to locate Tara’s handbag, which she’d left back in the toilets. When Justin looked around for Yena, he couldn’t see him.

  Damn.

  “Taxi?” Tara asked, holding on to Justin’s arm for support. Justin felt a bit wobbly himself.

  “We can’t afford a taxi, love.” Justin held the door for her. “Let’s get onto Oxford Street and find a bus.”

  Outside in the small, dark street, Justin and Tara found themselves among three of the bar staff, all having cigarettes. Justin’s hopes rekindled when he spotted Yena, and Yena definitely spotted him. Want surged through Justin, and he gave in to it. Leaving Tara propped against the wall, Justin stepped up to Yena. “At least give me a hug,” he pleaded.

  Surprisingly, Yena broke into a smile. “Sure.” He flicked his cigarette away and held out his arms. Justin bore down on Yena, who was a few inches shorter than him, and enveloped him in his arms. The warmth and hardness of another male body felt so good. Justin turned his head in to nuzzle Yena’s neck, and his face was tickled by the long dark curls of his hair. He smelled amazing.

  Justin longed to kiss him. He pulled back just enough to look into Yena’s face. Dark eyes met his, glittering black. Yena didn’t move, he simply watched Justin, as if waiting for him to do something. It was then Justin realized that Yena’s hands were around his shoulders, and their bodies still pressed close.

  It felt good, and he wanted more. “Come home with me,” he murmured.

  Yena looked away, a frown knotting his brows. Was he annoyed? Justin didn’t understand, but he felt the opportunity escaping him as Yena pushed him off.

  “Night, Justin,” he said, somewhat huffy.

  “Er, night.” Justin retreated with his tail between his legs. He went back to Tara and linked her arm through his, and hurried them away before he could embarrass himself any further.

  “SO!” TAM declared, dropping his bag onto the rehearsal room’s carpeted floor. “Who shagged who? What happened? Tell me all about it.”

  Justin sat on a chair, foot up on his knee as he laced and buckled one platform boot. “Don’t get excited,” Justin said. “Nothing happened. Me and Tara went home.”

  Tam raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing happened!” Justin groaned. He dropped his booted foot to the floor with a thud and went to lace up the next.

  Tam stared at him. “Oh. You’re serious? I leave you alone with a whole bar full of hotties, and you’re telling me you didn’t shag anyone? I am so disappointed.”

  Justin frowned at him. “I was super drunk, all right? I think….” He winced. “Okay, I know I annoyed him a bit. I may have been a tad pushy.”

  “Who?” Tam picked up his CD case and began flicking through the music choices.

  “Yena,” Justin said, still loving the way that name rolled off his tongue.

  Tam chuckled. “Ah, the Marc Bolan one.”

  “Oh!” Justin raised a hand as realization hit home. “Thank you! I’ve been trying to think why he looked so familiar. Marc Bolan. Shit, he does look a bit like him, doesn’t he?”

  “Mmm.” Tam flashed a wicked grin and held up a T-Rex CD. “Get It On?”

  Justin gave him a withering look. “I thought you wanted to rehearse the Goldfrapp song?”

  “Spoilsport.” Tam leafed through more CDs. “Let’s get this right, then. I want to debut it on Friday at Glam Slam.”

  “Friday?” Justin asked, panicking at how soon that was. “But, Tam—”

  “We’ll be fine.” Tam marched to the stereo and put the CD on. “You’ve been listening to it, right?”

  “Yes, of course. But we haven’t figured out the routine yet,” Justin complained. “And I thought it was getting mixed into the rest of our set?”

  “It will.” Tam had already pulled off his trainers, replacing them with platform boots as the song Ooh La La started. Justin did his stretches while he waited for Tam to buckle up.

  The room they used wasn’t exactly a dance studio; it was a beer-stained function room above an old pub. The concessions were that there was a reasonably large mirror on the main wall, enough for them to see themselves, the stereo worked, and the room was cheap. That was all they needed.

  “Right, watch me.” Tam had put the song on loop and waited for it to start again as he got into place. “Usual starting positions.”

  The son
g started, and Justin watched Tam work through the routine he’d devised. It never failed to amaze him how quickly Tam could come up with ideas; all Justin had to do was follow along, which he found easy enough. Because of the tight, flamboyant costumes they’d be wearing and the fact they often sang along, there wasn’t too much movement involved. Mostly it was about moving in time, hip thrusts, and pointing dramatically. Justin was a pro at that.

  Tam put Justin through his paces and, after several rounds of Ooh La La’s, was satisfied they could include the song in their set for Friday, at their regular cabaret slot. “I’ve been working on the costumes,” Tam said excitedly during a break. “I’ve made white and silver neck ruffles. We’re going to look fucking amazing.”

  “Thought we were doing white and blue?” Justin asked.

  Tam shook his head in response and took a long swig from his water bottle. Obviously, he’d changed his mind, but as he was the creative force behind the act, Justin let him get on with it.

  His mind wandered, and once again Justin found himself thinking about Yena. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it at the time,” he said, more to himself.

  “Hm?”

  “That he looked like Marc Bolan.”

  “Oh, him again.” Tam smirked, then got to his feet. “Why don’t we book ourselves into their cabaret schedule? Then you can shake your thing in front of him.”

  Justin couldn’t help a laugh. “I don’t know, mate. What if he hates cabaret? He seemed quite… shy, don’t you think?”

  “If he’s a secret ABBA hater, then you want nothing to do with him!” Tam declared.

  Justin shook his head. “You’re still not over that one date who didn’t want to listen to ABBA?”

  “No!” Tam laughed. “But how can you hate ABBA? If they hate ABBA, they’ve got no soul.”

  “Yeah, well.” Justin laughed along too. “Not everyone gets disco.”

  Tam repeated, “No soul, Justin!”

  They did the rehearsal, although Tam did have to snap at Justin a few times to command his attention. Justin couldn’t help it; Tam had put images in his mind—first, of a glammed-up Yena with glitter on his cheeks, wearing a feather boa and playing a guitar. Yes, he’d make a beautiful glam boy. Second, now Justin was fantasizing about rocking up to Foxy’s in his stage gear, dressed to the nines, and this time when he asked Yena to come home with him, he’d get a definite yes.