ABBY (Romani Detective Original Fiction)
Sep. 14th, 2021 12:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: ABBY (Anybody But You)
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3016
Summary: Follow up to Tempted (LJ, DW). The girls and Andrej head to the bar to find that neon light at the end of the tunnel.
Author’s Note: This was also written for the most recent Weekend Challenge at 1_million_words. My second prompt was, “So why must it wound him that the most despairing music is full of beauty? Why must it hurt him and make him cynical and sad and untrusting?”. I think I mostly hit this, but we’ll see I suppose. Also, the title was taken from a song by Travis Denning called ABBY – Anybody But You.
“Excuse me.”
Andrej tore his eyes off the half full glass of whiskey in front of him and resettled it on the man standing in front of him. “May I help you?”
“Yeah,” the guy said, looking over his shoulder towards the bar. “I was wondering if that brunette was your girlfriend?”
He smiled as his gaze drifted over towards where Hilary stood at the bar, Trish close by her side. “No,” he replied, not elaborating. “She is my friend and nothing more.”
“Nice,” the guy said, nodding. “Thanks, man.”
“One word of advice before you go,” Andrej said as the stranger was turning his attention to the bar again.
“And that is?” He gave a little impatient wave of his hand, hoping to hurry the conversation along.
“She might be petite, but she is full of fire, so be wary.” Which, if you knew Hilary, you knew was a gross understatement.
The guy had the nerve to laugh. “Just how I like ‘em,” he said, giving Andrej a lewd wink.
Andrej lifted his glass and stopped just before the rim touched his lips. “She is also a homicide detective and knows the best places to bury your body.” He took a sip and looked away, thinking that maybe he ought to cut himself off.
“Ah, I see, thanks,” the guy said. He gave the girls another look. “And the redhead?”
“I would not suggest it.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Who was that,” Trish asked, watching as the interloper made his way back to his own table. “Tell me he was hitting on you.”
Laughing, Andrej shook his head. “He was asking about Hilary.”
“Asshole,” Trish muttered.
“Do I want to know what you told him, Andy?” Hilary sat down beside him and looped her arm through his.
“Only the truth,” he said, gracing her with a smile. “That you were full of fire. Oh, and that you were a homicide detective.”
Trish laughed out loud. “No wonder he backed off. Nice work.”
“I am not so sure,” he sighed. “I am afraid I may have robbed you of a date.”
“Bullshit,” Hilary said. “If he had good intentions, my being a cop wouldn’t have deterred him. So, thank you for looking out for me.” She kissed his arm and leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “I ordered us some food so we can maybe walk out of here later.”
“Hey,” Trish said, tugging on Hil’s sleeve. “You want to make some men crazy?”
Hilary grinned. “Sure, why not. What’s your plan?”
“Come dance with me,” she said. Trish tossed a look at Andrej. “Do you mind?”
He shook his head. “Go, have fun. It is a pleasure to watch the two of you enjoying yourselves.”
“Are you sure you’re not het,” Trish teased. “Never mind, you’re about the only man I know who truly means that like it sounds.”
Trish took Hilary by then hand and pulled her onto the small dancefloor. It hadn’t originally been part of the bar’s design, but after too many nights where patrons gathered in any open space to dance along with the music, the owners had cleared out a section for that purpose. It had boosted their profits by quite a bit, so they’d kept it.
A new song began as the girls found a spot on the dancefloor, it slow and seductive tones filling the bar. Country music wasn’t generally Andrej’s first choice of genres, but it had a simplicity and honesty that he could appreciate. The singer’s deep voice seemed to wind around his aching heart and give it a squeeze for good measure. He glared at the speakers overhead before knocking back the rest of his whiskey.
One of the waitresses passed by and noticed his glass was empty. When she asked, he nodded, agreeing to another refill, one he knew he should have refused. But he was here, and it was the weekend, so why not, right? After all, Zayne was out doing exactly this. Except he was with a woman.
What he wouldn’t do for a swig of țuică right now. This American alcohol wasn’t even going to begin to touch the heartache he was feeling. But this song, it was speaking to him, ripping at his emotions, leaving him feeling raw inside and out.
The waitress returned with his refill and their food. He picked up a mozzarella stick and thought of Zayne, knowing how much his partner loved the things. It made Andrej wonder how Zayne would react if he was offered a bite from Andrej’s own hands. Knowing Zayne, he’d bite it right from between Andrej’s fingers, not caring what it looked like, never knowing how much internal chaos the mere brush of his lips on Andrej’s skin would cause.
Andrej groaned and took a long swig of his whiskey.
“Where’d your partners in crime go,” a familiar voice asked.
Startled, Andrej was shaken out of his reverie and found Zayne sitting across the table, helping himself to a chicken wing.
“Where is your date,” he asked, trying to tamp down on the swirling emotions he was feeling.
“She got a call from her sister and bailed,” he said. His tongue darted out, licking hot sauce from his bottom lip. “They probably planned it.”
Andrej looked away, his eyes landing on Trish, an odd expression on her face. “I am sorry to hear that.”
“You and me both, buddy,” Zayne said. He picked up a mozzarella stick next, his eyes following Andrej’s. “Ah, there they are. Trish loves dancing with Hil,” he said, unconcerned with how the situation looked, which was a relief for Andrej, honestly. “She knows it riles the boys up, I think.”
“She does,” Andrej agreed with a chuckle. “It was why she asked her to dance.”
“And they left you here alone?”
“I told them I would be okay on my own,” he assured Zayne. Besides, he needed a few minutes to himself, to think and process the rush of feelings he’d been having all evening. It wasn’t like Zayne never dated. To the contrary, he always had a date, so why it suddenly bothered him was a mystery.
“We should join them,” Zayne said suddenly.
“What?”
Zayne tilted his chin towards the dancefloor. “The girls, Zek. We should join them.”
“Oh,” he said, understanding. “I am not sure Hilary will want to dance with you after your last fight.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Zayne wiped his fingers on a napkin and stood up. Holding out his hand, he wiggled his fingers. “You and me, Zek. C’mon.”
Andrej stared at Zayne’s fingers as if they’d each sprouted tiny heads. “I am not sure that is a good idea. I know you are not –”
“Stop right there,” Zayne said, leaning forward and taking Andrej’s hand into his own. “I don’t care about that, and you know it.”
“What if someone sees you dancing with me?”
“And what? Thinks we’re hooking up?” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, that’s the least of my worries. I’ve had a lot worse said about me you know it. Plus, you’re too good for me, no one would ever believe you’d stooped so low.”
He stared dumbly as Zayne pulled him to his feet. There wasn’t any way he was too good for Zayne, after all, Zayne was the hottest commodity in the station. And he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather be with than Zayne. Even if Zayne wanted to be with anybody but him.
The moment their feet hit the dancefloor, Zayne slipped an arm around his waist, pulling them closer together. Too close for public, Andrej thought. Settling one hand on Zayne’s shoulder, the other found it’s natural spot on the opposite hip. He snatched his fingers away quickly, worried that Zayne would be upset, but all his partner did was laugh.
“It’s okay to touch me, Zek. I’m not afraid of it.”
Zayne stepped further into Andrej’s personal space, bringing them nearly hip to hip. He could feel his partner’s breath on his cheek, wished that he could lean in and rest his head on the Texan’s shoulder. More than likely, Zayne wouldn’t even bat an eye at that, but Andrej was afraid of letting himself get too comfortable with the handsome man he was dancing with currently. The one who moved him so smoothly across the floor, drawing the eye of every woman – and more than a few men – in the bar. If it were any other man in the room, he’d dip forward, brush his lips across that tanned skin, make a move that could make or break the entire evening. But not with Zayne.
With anybody but you, I could, he thought.
“Reyes,” Trish called as she whirled Hilary by, “when did your ugly mug arrive?”
Zayne flipped her off and pulled Andrej even closer. “Just in time it seems since the two of you abandoned my partner.”
“We didn’t abandon him,” Hilary said, her arm around Trish’s waist, unconsciously close like only two women who knew each other so well could be. “We were hoping that cute bartender would see him and keep him company.”
Zayne looked at Andrej for confirmation. “I wish they were joking, however I heard more than a few not very subtle hints come from them both.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Zayne teased. “You’re with me now.”
Damn, but was he ever. He could feel the press of Zayne’s hips against his own, the occasional brush of solid abs. It was like gasoline on the fire of his libido and Andrej wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He might self-combust right here, right now.
“I bet if you gave Reyes another shot or two of tequila, he’d take Andy home,” he heard Trish say.
Hilary laughed in response. “Nah, Andy’d be taking Zayne home because that’s how it works with that cowboy.”
“You two can shut up now,” Zayne shot back. “I’d go home with him sober.”
Andrej stumbled, but caught himself before he missed another step.
“Sorry,” Zayne muttered, bringing his lips close to Andrej’s ear. “Didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that. But it’s not like you don’t take me home all the time.”
“It is okay,” he said. He did take Zayne home all the time. And let him in on lonely nights, fed him, kept him company, but it just wasn’t the same. “You are always welcome in my home.”
“And that’s why I love you so much,” Zayne said without a hint of humor or anything other than truth.
Flicking his eyes up towards Zayne’s, Andrej prepared himself for the laughter he’d see, the good humor that was always in Zayne’s gaze. But to his astonishment, he saw none of that. Only serious green eyes watching him carefully. He averted his gaze quickly, before he fell into those serious eyes and forgot himself, what their relationship really was, and said something stupid. Something like ‘and why I have always loved you’.
Andrej started to tell Zayne that he’d had enough, that they shouldn’t be dancing like this in front of so many people, but his heart was screaming louder than his brain, telling him – demanding – that he hold on for as long as he was allowed. He knew he was going to regret this in the morning, but he relaxed into Zayne’s hold, let him lead him around the floor and –
“Zayne,” a voice called. A very feminine voice. “Zayne Reyes, is that you?”
An adorable crease formed between Zayne’s dark brows as he searched for the source of the voice. When he found it, the crease disappeared, and a smile spread across his face.
“Mia,” Zayne drawled, “how the hell have you been?”
“I was great until I see you dancing with another man. What the hell?”
Taking that as his cue to leave, Andrej moved to exit Zayne’s embrace and escape. But Zayne only tightened his grip and muttered, “Not so fast.” To Mia, he said, “Let me finish this dance and I’ll come find you. I can’t be rude now, can I?”
Mia made a face. “I guess not, but why, Zayne?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, making a shooing motion towards the interloper. “I won’t be long.”
She gave them one last look before telling Zayne the general direction of her booth and disappeared into the crowd.
“Sorry about that,” Zayne said, glancing down at Andrej.
“It’s – we don’t have to finish this,” he said, struggling again.
“Yes, we do,” he said. “I asked you out here and then forced you to come with me. The least I can do is wait until the end of the song.”
There wasn’t any use in arguing with Zayne once he’d made up his mind, so Andrej gave in. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Zayne’s arms around him, the beat of his own heart in time with his partner’s. The music filtered into his ears, hit his brain, and Andrej laughed.
“Okay, what’s so damn funny,” Zayne asked, his lips near Andrej’s ear again, a soft chuckle tickling his earlobe.
“This song,” he said, trying to stem the next wave of giggles threatening in his belly. “Listen to the lyrics.”
Tilting his head upwards, Zayne tried to focus on the song over the top of all the usual bar noise – people talking, glasses clinking, footsteps – and then he heard it.
There's a rumor going 'round about me and you
Stirring up our little town the last week or two
“Oh shit,” he snorted. “That’s fucking great.”
Andrej could feel Zayne’s body shaking with amusement and he allowed himself to smile. It was quite ridiculous that this, of all songs, was playing while they danced. Even more so when you considered the fact that two jerks down in Vice were constantly starting rumors about the two of them. Things that would never, could never be true.
“I don’t listen to much country music these days,” Zayne was saying. “But I love this guy. Such a great voice.” He hummed along for a moment before singing along with the song.
Oh, be honest, girl, now
Do you wanna do this or not?
Should we keep 'em talking, girl
Or should we just make 'em stop?
The last line was delivered close to his face, the words brushing his skin like a soft kiss. Instinctively, Andrej turned towards Zayne’s voice, their noses brushing. Startled by how close Zayne had gotten, Andrej stepped back. He moved so abruptly that Zayne let go automatically.
“The – the song is over,” he spluttered out, turning on his heel. “Thank you for the dance, Zayne, but I think it is time you go find your friend.”
Zayne stepped forward as if to follow but a hand on his arm stopped him.
“Let him go,” Hilary said, stern but kind. “I think you’ve caused enough trouble with him for one day.
Andrej didn’t stick around to hear any more of the conversation. Either Hilary was going to eviscerate Zayne verbally, or Trish was going to do it physically. Whatever happened, he wanted nothing to do with any of it. So, he returned to their table. He barely paused before digging into the fried, fatty foods that the girls had ordered and then abandoned, not caring one bit what it was going to do to his arteries, his BMI, or his skin. He needed something to fill the emptiness trying to consume him.
“He left.”
Andrej looked up from his empty glass and blinked. “I am sorry?”
“Your friend, the one you were dancing with? He left.”
“Oh,” Andrej said, knowing that it had always been the inevitable conclusion to this story, but hating it all the same. He nodded at the waitress, hesitating before asking for one more round. She gave him a wary look before heading off to bring him more of what he really didn’t need.
He made a drunken attempt to straighten the table up before the waitress returned with his drink. The girls would be back soon, too, he assumed. Their food was waiting after all, so he might as well handle it all. He’d made some space and was putting the trash to one side when a bit of writing caught his attention. Turning the napkin over, he read it, rubbed his eyes with a knuckle, then read it again.
You deserve better than a loser like me, Zek.
He looked toward the door and felt his heart sink. Zayne knew – and this time, he really knew. That sure as hell was going to complicate a lot of things between them. But it was too late now.
“Here you go, honey,” the waitress said, setting a fresh glass down in front of him. “You look like you could use it.”
Andrej thanked her and took a long, slow sip, savoring every drop. He stared at the napkin wondering what to do with it when he heard the girls approaching. Stuffing the napkin into his pocket, he busied himself with a piece of what he hoped was zucchini. Even fried, it was still a vegetable, right?
“Oooh, food,” Trish said, dropping into her chair and reaching for the wings. “Looks like Reyes got to our snacks before we could.”
“Our fault,” Hilary said, taking her seat from earlier. “We did leave them unguarded.”
Andrej tuned them out, drinking and thinking about Zayne. The way his partner had held him, how they’d moved together across the dancefloor. He swore that if they’d been a little more alone, maybe a little bit more inebriated, maybe Zayne might have kissed him. It was insane to think but… his partner had had that look in his eyes. The one that said he wasn’t messing around, although there’s no way Zayne would ever be serious about something like that. With someone like him.
He thought about the note in his pocket and reached for his drink.
Maybe someday Zayne would tell him the truth.
Maybe one day he’d have the nerve to ask for it.
Maybe.
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3016
Summary: Follow up to Tempted (LJ, DW). The girls and Andrej head to the bar to find that neon light at the end of the tunnel.
Author’s Note: This was also written for the most recent Weekend Challenge at 1_million_words. My second prompt was, “So why must it wound him that the most despairing music is full of beauty? Why must it hurt him and make him cynical and sad and untrusting?”. I think I mostly hit this, but we’ll see I suppose. Also, the title was taken from a song by Travis Denning called ABBY – Anybody But You.
“Excuse me.”
Andrej tore his eyes off the half full glass of whiskey in front of him and resettled it on the man standing in front of him. “May I help you?”
“Yeah,” the guy said, looking over his shoulder towards the bar. “I was wondering if that brunette was your girlfriend?”
He smiled as his gaze drifted over towards where Hilary stood at the bar, Trish close by her side. “No,” he replied, not elaborating. “She is my friend and nothing more.”
“Nice,” the guy said, nodding. “Thanks, man.”
“One word of advice before you go,” Andrej said as the stranger was turning his attention to the bar again.
“And that is?” He gave a little impatient wave of his hand, hoping to hurry the conversation along.
“She might be petite, but she is full of fire, so be wary.” Which, if you knew Hilary, you knew was a gross understatement.
The guy had the nerve to laugh. “Just how I like ‘em,” he said, giving Andrej a lewd wink.
Andrej lifted his glass and stopped just before the rim touched his lips. “She is also a homicide detective and knows the best places to bury your body.” He took a sip and looked away, thinking that maybe he ought to cut himself off.
“Ah, I see, thanks,” the guy said. He gave the girls another look. “And the redhead?”
“I would not suggest it.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Who was that,” Trish asked, watching as the interloper made his way back to his own table. “Tell me he was hitting on you.”
Laughing, Andrej shook his head. “He was asking about Hilary.”
“Asshole,” Trish muttered.
“Do I want to know what you told him, Andy?” Hilary sat down beside him and looped her arm through his.
“Only the truth,” he said, gracing her with a smile. “That you were full of fire. Oh, and that you were a homicide detective.”
Trish laughed out loud. “No wonder he backed off. Nice work.”
“I am not so sure,” he sighed. “I am afraid I may have robbed you of a date.”
“Bullshit,” Hilary said. “If he had good intentions, my being a cop wouldn’t have deterred him. So, thank you for looking out for me.” She kissed his arm and leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “I ordered us some food so we can maybe walk out of here later.”
“Hey,” Trish said, tugging on Hil’s sleeve. “You want to make some men crazy?”
Hilary grinned. “Sure, why not. What’s your plan?”
“Come dance with me,” she said. Trish tossed a look at Andrej. “Do you mind?”
He shook his head. “Go, have fun. It is a pleasure to watch the two of you enjoying yourselves.”
“Are you sure you’re not het,” Trish teased. “Never mind, you’re about the only man I know who truly means that like it sounds.”
Trish took Hilary by then hand and pulled her onto the small dancefloor. It hadn’t originally been part of the bar’s design, but after too many nights where patrons gathered in any open space to dance along with the music, the owners had cleared out a section for that purpose. It had boosted their profits by quite a bit, so they’d kept it.
A new song began as the girls found a spot on the dancefloor, it slow and seductive tones filling the bar. Country music wasn’t generally Andrej’s first choice of genres, but it had a simplicity and honesty that he could appreciate. The singer’s deep voice seemed to wind around his aching heart and give it a squeeze for good measure. He glared at the speakers overhead before knocking back the rest of his whiskey.
One of the waitresses passed by and noticed his glass was empty. When she asked, he nodded, agreeing to another refill, one he knew he should have refused. But he was here, and it was the weekend, so why not, right? After all, Zayne was out doing exactly this. Except he was with a woman.
What he wouldn’t do for a swig of țuică right now. This American alcohol wasn’t even going to begin to touch the heartache he was feeling. But this song, it was speaking to him, ripping at his emotions, leaving him feeling raw inside and out.
The waitress returned with his refill and their food. He picked up a mozzarella stick and thought of Zayne, knowing how much his partner loved the things. It made Andrej wonder how Zayne would react if he was offered a bite from Andrej’s own hands. Knowing Zayne, he’d bite it right from between Andrej’s fingers, not caring what it looked like, never knowing how much internal chaos the mere brush of his lips on Andrej’s skin would cause.
Andrej groaned and took a long swig of his whiskey.
“Where’d your partners in crime go,” a familiar voice asked.
Startled, Andrej was shaken out of his reverie and found Zayne sitting across the table, helping himself to a chicken wing.
“Where is your date,” he asked, trying to tamp down on the swirling emotions he was feeling.
“She got a call from her sister and bailed,” he said. His tongue darted out, licking hot sauce from his bottom lip. “They probably planned it.”
Andrej looked away, his eyes landing on Trish, an odd expression on her face. “I am sorry to hear that.”
“You and me both, buddy,” Zayne said. He picked up a mozzarella stick next, his eyes following Andrej’s. “Ah, there they are. Trish loves dancing with Hil,” he said, unconcerned with how the situation looked, which was a relief for Andrej, honestly. “She knows it riles the boys up, I think.”
“She does,” Andrej agreed with a chuckle. “It was why she asked her to dance.”
“And they left you here alone?”
“I told them I would be okay on my own,” he assured Zayne. Besides, he needed a few minutes to himself, to think and process the rush of feelings he’d been having all evening. It wasn’t like Zayne never dated. To the contrary, he always had a date, so why it suddenly bothered him was a mystery.
“We should join them,” Zayne said suddenly.
“What?”
Zayne tilted his chin towards the dancefloor. “The girls, Zek. We should join them.”
“Oh,” he said, understanding. “I am not sure Hilary will want to dance with you after your last fight.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Zayne wiped his fingers on a napkin and stood up. Holding out his hand, he wiggled his fingers. “You and me, Zek. C’mon.”
Andrej stared at Zayne’s fingers as if they’d each sprouted tiny heads. “I am not sure that is a good idea. I know you are not –”
“Stop right there,” Zayne said, leaning forward and taking Andrej’s hand into his own. “I don’t care about that, and you know it.”
“What if someone sees you dancing with me?”
“And what? Thinks we’re hooking up?” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly, that’s the least of my worries. I’ve had a lot worse said about me you know it. Plus, you’re too good for me, no one would ever believe you’d stooped so low.”
He stared dumbly as Zayne pulled him to his feet. There wasn’t any way he was too good for Zayne, after all, Zayne was the hottest commodity in the station. And he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather be with than Zayne. Even if Zayne wanted to be with anybody but him.
The moment their feet hit the dancefloor, Zayne slipped an arm around his waist, pulling them closer together. Too close for public, Andrej thought. Settling one hand on Zayne’s shoulder, the other found it’s natural spot on the opposite hip. He snatched his fingers away quickly, worried that Zayne would be upset, but all his partner did was laugh.
“It’s okay to touch me, Zek. I’m not afraid of it.”
Zayne stepped further into Andrej’s personal space, bringing them nearly hip to hip. He could feel his partner’s breath on his cheek, wished that he could lean in and rest his head on the Texan’s shoulder. More than likely, Zayne wouldn’t even bat an eye at that, but Andrej was afraid of letting himself get too comfortable with the handsome man he was dancing with currently. The one who moved him so smoothly across the floor, drawing the eye of every woman – and more than a few men – in the bar. If it were any other man in the room, he’d dip forward, brush his lips across that tanned skin, make a move that could make or break the entire evening. But not with Zayne.
With anybody but you, I could, he thought.
“Reyes,” Trish called as she whirled Hilary by, “when did your ugly mug arrive?”
Zayne flipped her off and pulled Andrej even closer. “Just in time it seems since the two of you abandoned my partner.”
“We didn’t abandon him,” Hilary said, her arm around Trish’s waist, unconsciously close like only two women who knew each other so well could be. “We were hoping that cute bartender would see him and keep him company.”
Zayne looked at Andrej for confirmation. “I wish they were joking, however I heard more than a few not very subtle hints come from them both.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Zayne teased. “You’re with me now.”
Damn, but was he ever. He could feel the press of Zayne’s hips against his own, the occasional brush of solid abs. It was like gasoline on the fire of his libido and Andrej wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He might self-combust right here, right now.
“I bet if you gave Reyes another shot or two of tequila, he’d take Andy home,” he heard Trish say.
Hilary laughed in response. “Nah, Andy’d be taking Zayne home because that’s how it works with that cowboy.”
“You two can shut up now,” Zayne shot back. “I’d go home with him sober.”
Andrej stumbled, but caught himself before he missed another step.
“Sorry,” Zayne muttered, bringing his lips close to Andrej’s ear. “Didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that. But it’s not like you don’t take me home all the time.”
“It is okay,” he said. He did take Zayne home all the time. And let him in on lonely nights, fed him, kept him company, but it just wasn’t the same. “You are always welcome in my home.”
“And that’s why I love you so much,” Zayne said without a hint of humor or anything other than truth.
Flicking his eyes up towards Zayne’s, Andrej prepared himself for the laughter he’d see, the good humor that was always in Zayne’s gaze. But to his astonishment, he saw none of that. Only serious green eyes watching him carefully. He averted his gaze quickly, before he fell into those serious eyes and forgot himself, what their relationship really was, and said something stupid. Something like ‘and why I have always loved you’.
Andrej started to tell Zayne that he’d had enough, that they shouldn’t be dancing like this in front of so many people, but his heart was screaming louder than his brain, telling him – demanding – that he hold on for as long as he was allowed. He knew he was going to regret this in the morning, but he relaxed into Zayne’s hold, let him lead him around the floor and –
“Zayne,” a voice called. A very feminine voice. “Zayne Reyes, is that you?”
An adorable crease formed between Zayne’s dark brows as he searched for the source of the voice. When he found it, the crease disappeared, and a smile spread across his face.
“Mia,” Zayne drawled, “how the hell have you been?”
“I was great until I see you dancing with another man. What the hell?”
Taking that as his cue to leave, Andrej moved to exit Zayne’s embrace and escape. But Zayne only tightened his grip and muttered, “Not so fast.” To Mia, he said, “Let me finish this dance and I’ll come find you. I can’t be rude now, can I?”
Mia made a face. “I guess not, but why, Zayne?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, making a shooing motion towards the interloper. “I won’t be long.”
She gave them one last look before telling Zayne the general direction of her booth and disappeared into the crowd.
“Sorry about that,” Zayne said, glancing down at Andrej.
“It’s – we don’t have to finish this,” he said, struggling again.
“Yes, we do,” he said. “I asked you out here and then forced you to come with me. The least I can do is wait until the end of the song.”
There wasn’t any use in arguing with Zayne once he’d made up his mind, so Andrej gave in. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Zayne’s arms around him, the beat of his own heart in time with his partner’s. The music filtered into his ears, hit his brain, and Andrej laughed.
“Okay, what’s so damn funny,” Zayne asked, his lips near Andrej’s ear again, a soft chuckle tickling his earlobe.
“This song,” he said, trying to stem the next wave of giggles threatening in his belly. “Listen to the lyrics.”
Tilting his head upwards, Zayne tried to focus on the song over the top of all the usual bar noise – people talking, glasses clinking, footsteps – and then he heard it.
There's a rumor going 'round about me and you
Stirring up our little town the last week or two
“Oh shit,” he snorted. “That’s fucking great.”
Andrej could feel Zayne’s body shaking with amusement and he allowed himself to smile. It was quite ridiculous that this, of all songs, was playing while they danced. Even more so when you considered the fact that two jerks down in Vice were constantly starting rumors about the two of them. Things that would never, could never be true.
“I don’t listen to much country music these days,” Zayne was saying. “But I love this guy. Such a great voice.” He hummed along for a moment before singing along with the song.
Oh, be honest, girl, now
Do you wanna do this or not?
Should we keep 'em talking, girl
Or should we just make 'em stop?
The last line was delivered close to his face, the words brushing his skin like a soft kiss. Instinctively, Andrej turned towards Zayne’s voice, their noses brushing. Startled by how close Zayne had gotten, Andrej stepped back. He moved so abruptly that Zayne let go automatically.
“The – the song is over,” he spluttered out, turning on his heel. “Thank you for the dance, Zayne, but I think it is time you go find your friend.”
Zayne stepped forward as if to follow but a hand on his arm stopped him.
“Let him go,” Hilary said, stern but kind. “I think you’ve caused enough trouble with him for one day.
Andrej didn’t stick around to hear any more of the conversation. Either Hilary was going to eviscerate Zayne verbally, or Trish was going to do it physically. Whatever happened, he wanted nothing to do with any of it. So, he returned to their table. He barely paused before digging into the fried, fatty foods that the girls had ordered and then abandoned, not caring one bit what it was going to do to his arteries, his BMI, or his skin. He needed something to fill the emptiness trying to consume him.
“He left.”
Andrej looked up from his empty glass and blinked. “I am sorry?”
“Your friend, the one you were dancing with? He left.”
“Oh,” Andrej said, knowing that it had always been the inevitable conclusion to this story, but hating it all the same. He nodded at the waitress, hesitating before asking for one more round. She gave him a wary look before heading off to bring him more of what he really didn’t need.
He made a drunken attempt to straighten the table up before the waitress returned with his drink. The girls would be back soon, too, he assumed. Their food was waiting after all, so he might as well handle it all. He’d made some space and was putting the trash to one side when a bit of writing caught his attention. Turning the napkin over, he read it, rubbed his eyes with a knuckle, then read it again.
You deserve better than a loser like me, Zek.
He looked toward the door and felt his heart sink. Zayne knew – and this time, he really knew. That sure as hell was going to complicate a lot of things between them. But it was too late now.
“Here you go, honey,” the waitress said, setting a fresh glass down in front of him. “You look like you could use it.”
Andrej thanked her and took a long, slow sip, savoring every drop. He stared at the napkin wondering what to do with it when he heard the girls approaching. Stuffing the napkin into his pocket, he busied himself with a piece of what he hoped was zucchini. Even fried, it was still a vegetable, right?
“Oooh, food,” Trish said, dropping into her chair and reaching for the wings. “Looks like Reyes got to our snacks before we could.”
“Our fault,” Hilary said, taking her seat from earlier. “We did leave them unguarded.”
Andrej tuned them out, drinking and thinking about Zayne. The way his partner had held him, how they’d moved together across the dancefloor. He swore that if they’d been a little more alone, maybe a little bit more inebriated, maybe Zayne might have kissed him. It was insane to think but… his partner had had that look in his eyes. The one that said he wasn’t messing around, although there’s no way Zayne would ever be serious about something like that. With someone like him.
He thought about the note in his pocket and reached for his drink.
Maybe someday Zayne would tell him the truth.
Maybe one day he’d have the nerve to ask for it.
Maybe.
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Date: 2021-09-15 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-09-15 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-09-15 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-09-15 02:43 am (UTC)Oh trust me, there's a part of Andrej, too, that says RUN FOR YOUR LIFE every now and then, too.