It was a lot harder to find River outside of a Friday than Hunter expected. The first week, Hunter visited the bar every night, got a virgin drink when he didn’t spot River, then left just as quickly as he’d come. It was especially embarrassing when he saw a bartender who worked Friday shifts as well. They always raised a brow at Hunter, recognizing who he was then smiling when they figured out why he was there. So the virgin drinks were helpful to distract from his bright red face.
And when Friday finally rolled around again, River was tickled pink. “Thank you for supporting us so much this week,” he told Hunter, voice sickly sweet.
“They told you?” Hunter asked.
“Every single time.”
And his laugh when Hunter covered his face with his hands that night was extra loud. Sure, it was incredibly embarrassing but River’s reaction had given him a good clue. If he was told after each time Hunter did it, he could be going every single day, just not when Hunter showed up.
The situation was bringing out CIA Hunter. The very next day, he looked Adonis up online, confirming that they opened as early as 11 am, offering light lunch dishes for the early crowd. If River didn’t work late hours during the week, maybe he did the opposite?
The commotion Josh created that morning when Hunter took his lunch break outside was unreal. He practically had to swat the man off to get onto the office elevator. Sure he took every meal up in his office so he could eat and work at the same time, but switching things up wasn’t that strange.
What was strange was seeing Adonis during the daytime. The bar seemed less electric in the sun, more calm. Like a sleeping dragon, it was relatively harmless now but the potential for more screamed in the back of one’s mind. Hunter pulled the door open and steeled himself for some familiar embarrassment. Finding no River, awkwardly asking for something to drink so it’s not strange for him to leave empty-handed, etc etc.
To his pleasant surprise, he saw River coming out of the back room. Instead of his typical black pants and open collar white button-up shirt, he had a blazer thrown over a plain t-shirt and dark jeans. His hair was messier if possible, stray curls standing up in random directions that still made perfect sense. Seeing him like this, Hunter thought it was obvious that this is the man in charge.
Hunter strolled up to the bar, carrying the swagger of a man who had finally won. The bar owner glanced up when he approached and Hunter’s slight smirk became a full blown smile at the sight of River’s shock.
“What, you didn’t expect me to keep trying?” Hunter took a seat right at the bar, seemingly the only person doing so at this time of day.
“Honestly no, I didn’t.” River laughed. He looked around the bar and down at his outfit which Hunter was drinking up like a starved man. “I’m honestly not supposed to be working the bar right now without the uniform…but screw it. Would you like something to drink?”
Seeing River that day was like catching the man at home. He was more relaxed than ever and with most of his patrons at that time of day choosing to sit at a table, Hunter essentially had his entire focus. And that felt really good.
It started a new pattern of Hunter forgoing Fridays most weeks to instead spend his lunch with River. As the days and weeks passed, Hunter was getting a glimpse into River’s life, even if it was mainly his life within the walls of Adonis. And, on good days, he was quick to talk about work and the bar, sharing in a way that Hunter loved.
Moreover, despite working in different fields, there was something comfortable about opening up to another business owner. It was a relief, truly. Hunter spoke a foreign language for 2 years and finally found someone who understood.
Things changed so effortlessly that before he knew it, Hunter was sitting in his office with River’s contact on his phone screen. He couldn’t even remember when he’d gotten it. It was just there, ready for Hunter to use whenever he wanted.
Currently, he had little use for the number. He only saw River at the bar. It wasn’t like he was going to call the guy to warn him that he’s showing up. Again. What he really wanted was to make plans with him. Could they really be considered friends if he only saw him at work?
Hunter bit his bottom lip, the idea cementing in his mind. Should he text River and ask that way? Hey, do you want to go out for coffee or lunch? Or he could ask him in person. Yes, Hunter would just ask him in person.
It was almost midnight right now, so tomorrow, Hunter would show up during his lunch break and ask. It was a simple invitation, really. There didn’t even need to be romance involved. So why would River say no? Still, Hunter’s hands tingled with anticipation. 12 hours suddenly felt way too long.
—————
Hunter could not have picked a better day to ask River to hang out with him. That afternoon, River was in high spirits. Hunter’s ego never felt so satisfied as River was laughing at every single joke. But, taking the leap was harder than it looked. Does Hunter ask before getting his drink? Should he try after River finishes that conversation? The perfect time kept slipping out of his fingers and he found himself grappling to find the right moment.
Feeling hopeless, Hunter grew distracted, staring unblinkingly at the staff door behind the bar. River glided back over, laughing until he caught the troubled look on the other man’s face. He followed Hunter’s line of sight, smiling again when he realized what he was looking at.
“Oh, you’ve never seen the back, right?”
Hunter snapped out of his wallowing, a bit confused by the turn in conversation. When he shook his head ‘no,’ River shrugged back his blazer sleeve. Hunter wasn’t sure what time he saw on that sleek watch, but it made him look at Hunter excitedly.
“Would you like a tour?”
The first thing Hunter saw once he went past the door was a locker room. His brain conjured up bartenders and waitstaff stuffing their belongings in here at the start of every shift. River grabbed his wrists, cool fingers at his pulse as he pulled him to the right. At the end of that hall was their first stop: the kitchen.
The warm room was blasting with music, making it hard to hear the classic sounds of chopping and sizzling pans. River made the introductions between Hunter and the three people cooking, though he had to yell to do so.
“I’m surprised you’re okay with the music being so loud in here,” Hunter commented, his head bumping instinctively to the reggaeton playing. “Most bosses couldn’t stand it.”
“I trust my head chef, Lawrence.” River pointed out Lawrence, a short French man trying to bop to the music as he garnished a plate.
“His philosophy is that you put your whole self, including your emotions, into the food that you cook,” River crossed his arms, watching Hunter through the wisps of his lashes. “So, you may as well put some good energy in there too.”
Those words were innocent enough, but Hunter felt like there was some innuendo he was missing. A beat passed where the older man’s eyes trailed him with intent. The slow crawl of River’s stare down and back up his body raised every hair Hunter had to its tip. His dark eyes were so suggestive, Hunter could easily guess the dirty thoughts he had.
A gust of cool air entered the room when one of the waiters entered the kitchen, catching Hunter’s attention. He walked in through the swinging double doors on the other end of the kitchen and Hunter finally understood how the rooms connected in Adonis. Hunter looked back at River again but the moment was lost. The man turned on his heel, gesturing for Hunter to follow.
Back in front of the door to the bar, River presented the employee locker room and bathroom. They walked through the two walls of lockers which led into the breakroom and just past that was the lounge. Seeing the cozy couches and patterned walls, Hunter almost wanted to go back in time so he could be young again and work here.
“I wish I could go back in time so I was young enough to work here.”
River crossed his arms after Hunter spoke, his tilted head catching every last detail of Hunter’s appearance. Joking or not, River’s assessment felt like a test and Hunter’s skin tingled with awareness.
“There’s no need for time travel. You can just work here now,” he suggested cheekily. Slinking up to the other man, he pinched Hunter’s shirt, barely grazing his skin underneath. “I’m sure the old ladies that come here every night would just love you.”
Using a door to the left, River left the room while Hunter was still recovering from his teasing. The deeper into the bar they went, the bolder River became. Was Hunter ready for what awaited him at the end?
Rushing to follow, Hunter found River in front of what he explained to be their meeting room.
“For most of the day, my managers just use it for work when they’re not out front. But we also use it for management meetings, interviews with new hires, training, et cetera.”
And going to the final door on the left, Hunter was brought into River’s office.
The room was two-thirds the size of Hunter’s, but what it lacked in space it made up for in life. Despite his desk being large, every available surface was covered in papers or trinkets. Like the half finished Rubik’s cube about to fall off the corner. Or the handmade bracelet right beside the laptop.
“So what do you think?” River asked, splaying his arms as he spun over his plush rug. The smile on his face lacked the usual cheeky edge and Hunter felt as if, maybe, he really did care what Hunter’s response would be.
“It’s nice,” he complimented, hands reaching out to graze one of many aged bands posters curling off of the walls. “I like how cozy it feels.”
“You mean small?”
“No,” Hunter laughed, hearing River’s matching chuckles from behind him. “I mean cozy. Your office feels . . . lived in. I like it. I like it a lot more than my office at least.”
“Now I think you’re calling it messy but I will accept the compliment.”
River continued to laugh as he walked behind his desk, relaxing into the brown leather chair with all of the confidence a man in his position should carry. Hunter sat in the chair in front of him and while he knew the conversation had shifted, he found it hard to leave it alone. Looking around at an office so much warmer than his own, he felt the need to defend it.
“I meant that I can see how long you’ve been here working and pouring into this bar. Your office shows that,” Hunter explained, spurred on by the warmth that continued to grow in River’s expression. “Mine is mostly empty even though I’ve had the company for two years.”
“Thank you,” River told him sincerely. With his chin tilted down and lips contained to the smallest of smiles, the incredibly masculine man looked kind of cute. Then, the older man paused, the gears in his mind turning. “You got an office space in two years?”
Hunter almost winced. Most people he met outside work assumed he was an entrepreneur, starting his company from scratch and getting rapid success in a Steve Jobs sort of manner. Finding out the company came from his dad eliminated any respect they had for him. He always felt the ‘spoiled rich kid’ label being metaphorically smacked across his forehead.
“No, I’m not that amazing,” Hunter joked, mentally preparing for River’s inevitable reaction. “My dad owned the company and I spent my whole life preparing to take over. Of course, I owe most of my success to being born to the right guy but I also worked my butt off to prove to our shareholders that I could run it at twenty-five instead of waiting until I was fifty.”
“I get that. You put a lot into your business. And anyone who has heard you talk about it for more than two seconds knows how much you love it.”
Hunter waited for the insult to his upbringing or dig to his company but they never came. River was just smiling at him, looking as if he meant every word that he said. Raising from his seat, River laughed to himself, leaving Hunter out of the little joke but the taller man didn’t mind.
“You know, when you first strolled in here two months ago I couldn’t decide if you were a country club douche or a really well dressed kid.”
Hunter stood up just as River reached him, his crossed arms brushing against Hunter’s chest. Hunter kept his eyes on River’s, quickly trying to remember what they’d been talking about.
“Which one am I?” Hunter asked, genuinely curious.
“Neither. Though I think you’re supposed to be both.”
River laughed freely, taking enjoyment in how irritated Hunter was by his conclusion. As he sobered, River’s fingers fiddled with Hunter’s dress shirt, his heat quickly seeping past the thin fabric. With River’s hands dancing so low on his stomach, Hunter’s breath grew shallow, the reaction worsening the more he tried to control it.
“But somehow, you’re just nice,” River whispered. He caught Hunter’s gaze and the look of wonder there struck the taller man to the core. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
Their eyes locked. Hunter willed himself to look away but couldn’t find the motivation to. Truthfully, he loved staring into River’s eyes. He loved watching River’s pupils shift back and forth, or seeing his crow’s feet tighten and relax with each change in expression. Today, the task became harder since—without his permission—Hunter’s eyes dropped to River’s mouth. He zoned in on those pale pink lips just as River’s tongue darted out to wet them and Hunter’s mind went hazy at the sight.
He was reminded of River’s hands on his torso, toying with his shirt and Hunter’s resolve wavered. If he could just lean down and close the distance-
A phone rings. The piercing sound of River’s ringtone cuts through the sexual tension with a knife and the two men jump apart. Pulling out the device, River’s stiff expression visibly melted by the time he looked at Hunter again.
“Sorry, I have to take this.”
The younger man took a moment to collect himself, running a hand through his hair while River picked up the phone.
“Hey baby, how are you?”
———————————
Oh no! Is this the best and worst moment of their relationship so far?
Poor Hunter has no idea who River is talking to!
Anywow,
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