“Yes, I would be happy to get that Shirley Temple for you.”
River worked hard to keep his voice peppy and attitude upbeat as he served the nth customer that night. He’d been doing this for years and dealing with all of the socializing that came with it was natural at this point. Today, however, he found the task difficult.
Since River joined him for football a few weeks ago, Hunter was nowhere to be found. Maybe that was incorrect since it implied that River actually looked. But usually, he didn’t have to. Hunter would spend almost every lunch break with River at the bar, discreetly eating a meal that chef Lawrence hadn’t made. That hour or so would be spent trying to hide some name-brand packaging while talking with River. At the very least he would show up on Fridays to say hello and have a drink, like old times. Instead, two weeks had passed and River had heard nothing.
Maybe he should use Hunter’s phone number and actually text him for once. Having something in their conversation thread other than a park address wouldn’t be so bad.
“This is so good. Thank you!” The woman, who probably wasn’t much older than River, gushed after taking a sip. The compliment was sweet, but it only made River more aware of what he missed. Hunter often gushed as well, but his reviews were more physical in nature.
Before he said a word, River always knew that he liked a drink because his body would deflate, sinking into his chair as if all the pressures of the world were gone. And suddenly all that was left was Hunter and that single glass. Gosh, River was thinking about him so much that he could actually see him walk into the bar and sit right in front of him.
But imaginary Hunter was wearing just slacks and a shirt. And imaginary Hunter seemed very amused as he waited for River to serve him.
Oh
“Long time no see,” River chuckled, fighting to keep the blush off of his cheeks. He failed miserably and Hunter’s mouth turned up into a bright smile.
“Yeah, I’ve been really busy,” Hunter explained. He was resting his jaw on his open palm like a truly tired man but River just laughed, rolling his eyes in disbelief.
“Everyone says that.”
Hunter’s expression turned contemplative as he looked at River. He saw this as a challenge and while most didn’t fight to prove how tired they were, Hunter entered the bar irritated and had time to be a little petty today.
“But few of them have the eye bags to prove it.”
Before River could ask what he meant by that, Hunter leaned forward, using his elbows on the counter to allow him to get close. With the space between them reduced, River could clearly see the ugly, blue-ish gray bags hanging below Hunter’s eyes.
He almost wanted to touch them, caress the skin of Hunter’s upper chek and see how he reacted. At the very least he wanted to get Hunter to go to sleep so they could go down. The amount of concern he suddenly felt towards the younger man was shocking and River clenched his jaw against those instincts. He now worked to steal what he knew must have been a stupid expression.
“Gosh, you do look bad.”
“Thank you,” Hunter laughed, settling back into his seat, allowing River to breathe properly again. “You don’t look that good yourself.”
“That’s a lie! I look great today,” River insisted, picking at his open collar self-consciously. He was still checking over his appearance when Hunter groaned, raking his open fingers through slightly gelled hair.
“You’re right. Of course you look good.”
River was kind of taken aback to hear Hunter say it so plainly. His mind raced to process the words but Hunter was distracted, firmly rubbing back and forth across his forehead.
“We might be working on a movie.”
River spun back around, confused that Hunter was saying something so exciting while looking so depressed.
“A movie?”
“A several-hundred-million-dollar-budget movie,” Hunter muttered, watching River through half-lidded eyes.
“Wow, that’s incredible.”
“It would be if we didn’t have to bid for the spot while also keeping up with our other contracts,” he explained blandly. River was still staring in surprise but Hunter was ready to move on. “You can recommend whatever you like but can I have something strong today? Maybe a drink involving vodka?”
River pushed his overactive imagination to the side for a moment to focus on being a good bartender. And a good friend.
“I have just the thing.”
In half the standard time, River was sliding a glass filled with light pink liquid over to Hunter who eyed the cup with interest. Not as much as usual but River assumed that was due to his busy week.
“Here you go. This will have you forgetting about work in no time,” River bragged. He was just about to explain what it was when Hunter threw the cup back, allowing every last drop to slide down his throat. “Especially if you drink it that fast.”
“Ugh, that’s strong!” Hunter swore, messily rubbing his mouth against the back of his sleeve. “Can I have another one?”
“Sure, give me just a second.”
River was amused by Hunter’s new attitude towards drinking. Hunter was typically careful around alcohol. He would take one or two cups and be the first to call an uber to get him home. He never drank to get drunk, he simply did it to relax. This Hunter was a party animal and raced to kick those drinks back as if he were being paid to do so. So yes, River thought it was funny until Hunter was struggling to keep his head upright and still asking for his seventh. River thought the younger man noticed how relunctant he was getting in creating these drinks but Hunter was still insulted when River told him no.
“You don’t want my money?” Hunter asked, laughing in disbelief through lidded eyes. Under normal circumstances, that expression might have been sexy but it only made River more concerned.
“I have enough money. What I don’t need is you getting hurt because I sold you another glass.”
River looked around his bar for a moment, weighing his options. They were getting closer to closing, and the crowd was easing up a bit. It still wasn’t a great look to bring a customer behind the bar lest someone sees them. The last thing River needed was for people to expect VIP treatment if they got crazy drunk. But Hunter couldn’t stay at the bar like this and River really wanted him to sleep. Inevitably, the choice was made for him.
Hunter’s mind was slipping in and out of consciousness. He didn’t know his eyes were closing until they opened again. And, the usually cold counter didn’t feel cold anymore after he had his cheek resting against it for so long. Suddenly, a hand was rubbing against his back and Hunter’s drunk mind struggled to place the sensation.
“Come on, I’m taking you to the back,” came River’s voice, deep and stable as it cut through the noise.
“Ooh, I’m going to a VIP section?” Hunter joked, laughing boisterously because he was so funny.
“No, you’re going to sleep on one of our couches until you’re sober enough to get an Uber home.”
What River thought was a firm and serious voice only seemed to make Hunter laugh harder as he slouched against the bar. River was keenly aware of the other patrons in the bar, watching a bartender try to wrestle a drunkard out of his seat. Even as he tried to be kind, the attention made him snappy when he griped Hunter’s arm and pulled.
“Now stand up.”
—————
The only thing River hoped for was to keep his car puke free. Hunter was all smiles and giggles now but every so often, a bump on the road would have his face turning green. So yes, his goal was to get through this ride without Hunter puking all over his minivan.
It was an interesting trade-in: babysitting instead of closing up the bar. River was usually still cleaning up and making sure all of his employees got home okay. But Hunter’s nap on the couch in the back did little to help his sobriety. If anything, Hunter was more drunk now than before he went to sleep.
Thus, River realized he would have to personally get this guy home. And yes, while he could have just paid for an Uber, his heart grew uneasy imagining a drunk Hunter stumbling his way upstairs to his condo. It was too easy for him to get lost or hurt.
“I wonder if donuts can make my ass fat. I want a fat ass.”
And maybe River wanted to be there to see anything dumb thing Hunter happened to do. That helped with the decision. In River’s defense, the guy never really got drunk so this was a rare opportunity.
And, River never regretted making that choice. But the task became a little more annoying when he tried to get Hunter out of the car. Drunk Hunter didn’t seem to share the same goals as River, constantly getting distracted during their walk. And even when he was moving forward, most of his weight would rest on River. The older man had to wonder if Hunter remembered how to walk or if the knowledge left him as soon as the alcohol kicked in.
As River struggled to keep a heavier body upright, Hunter continued to ramble about pure nonsense. River wanted to listen and understand, drunk ramblings were great teasing material for the future, but a lot of what he said didn’t make sense. River had just gotten Hunter onto the elevator when he started to understand some words again. Emphasis on some.
‘Taken’ was the most common word, closely followed by ‘rejected’. But River did give honorable mentions to ‘hot’ and ‘sexy’ just because he laughed really hard when Hunter said them while sounding half asleep.
“What’s the apartment number, again?” River asked seconds after the elevator doors ‘dinged’ open. Hunter was kind enough to remember the number and left River to search for the door as he began to outline their entire friendship up to that point.
“You are always such a tough nut to crack but I kept . . . cracking away,” Hunter recalled, sighing heavily at whatever memory he was playing through his drunk mind.
“Thank you for your effort,” River replied absent-mindedly. He was a little busy reading the door numbers but let out a small ‘aha’ when he finally spotted the right one.
“Because I thought you were shy or self . . . self-sabotaging.”
River was hearing what Hunter was saying, but gave up on processing it a while ago. It was hard to take the man seriously when he was staring at lights like firework displays or finding shirt collars confusing.
“Alright, can I have your keys, Hunter? I want to open the door for you.”
“No, I’ll do it myself,” Hunter grumbled, sharply pulling his arm out of River’s grasp and starting towards his door. At first, River was nervous about the key situation but soon, he heard a familiar click. Hunter was successfully home and River could leave him without fear of injury or worse.
River stumbled back in surprise when Hunter suddenly turned, closing the distance between them in two steps. But moving so quickly didn’t work well with Hunter’s level of sobriety and he began to topple out of control. River reached out to catch the man, holding Hunter’s waist tightly as the latter held his shoulders.
“Hunter, what are you doing?” River asked tiredly. Hunter was attempting to crawl up River’s body to stand up again, but he grew tired of trying. For a moment, he rested his forehead against the fabric covering River’s chest, breath warming the latter’s skin.
“You don’t want me, do you?”
River’s body stilled, his breath trapped in his shocked lungs. Hunter continued to climb his body, shaking as his height rose.
“You want me to leave you alone and I-” he hiccuped, cutting into his words. “I’m the jerk that won’t stop trying.”
His climb complete, Hunter found himself looking down at River who refused to meet his eyes. With his hands still holding River’s shoulders, he pulled River forward, who now looked at him with a startled stare. Then, River shook his head, hair falling over conflicted eyes.
“No I . . . I do want you it’s just-”
A sudden kiss cut off whatever he had to say. Hunter’s mouth tasted like liquor, strong and bitter. But his lips were warm and wet when they covered River’s. River tightened his hands around Hunter’s body. He was pulling Hunter closer. More skin connected. He couldn’t help leaning into the sensation and the heat that was Hunter. Within seconds, though, the warmth was gone and Hunter had disappeared behind his apartment door.
River spent far too much time motionless in front of that door, listening to muffled sounds of Hunter moving around his home. Soon, he was back in the elevator, heading back to his car so he could go to his own place. He unlocked his car door, noticing how his hand shook in the process. River knew that he couldn’t take a drunk kiss seriously but his body still warmed when he grazed his now damp lips.
———————————
We love a good dramatic kiss!
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What do you think River and Hunter will do next???
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