“Can I have this, since my shirt is ruined?” The blonde customer—Nate—Giovanni had been flirting with said as he searched through the bartender’s closet. They’d been flirting for a while over text, and it progressed to Nate inviting himself over.

“Sure,” Giovanni said from the bed without looking. He said up, frowning a bit when he noticed what shirt the man was holding up. “No, wait, that’s not mine,” he said, making Nate pause, looking over at him with an eye roll and a smile.

“Huh, I guess someone else already pulled the; I’ll leave my shirt over, so I have an excuse to come back plan, right?” he chuckled, hanging the sweater back on the hanger. “It’s a bit sad, I wanted to do that. I guess I’ll take my dirty shirt home.”

“It’s not like that,” Giovanni said in a soft voice, pulling his knees to his chest, and Nate walked over before taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “It’s Ashkii’s. He leaves his stuff over sometimes when he stays for dinner,” Giovanni said, explaining the situation.

“Hmm, I don’t think that makes me feel better,” the man said, moving to rest his back on the bed until his curls were caressing Giovanni’s hip bone. “He seems to like you very much.”

Giovanni scuffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like that,” he said. Gosh, Ashkii was barely looking at him these past two weeks. “He’s straight. We’re just friends, and he’s too young for me,” Giovanni said, reaching down to twirl Nate’s hair with a finger.

“Huh, he could have fooled me with how he was shooting daggers at me when I gave you my number,” the man said, rolling onto his stomach before looking up at Giovanni. “I just assumed he was too chicken to do it himself,” the man said, kissing Giovanni’s thigh.

Giovanni sighed, rolling his eyes. “Nate, he’s not my type.”

“Ouch,” the blond man said, chuckling a bit. “Now, that makes me feel better.”

“That’s not why I said it—”

“Let me believe you care about me as more than a man attached to a solid penis for one minute, thank you,” Nate said, interrupting Giovanni, and making the slender man laugh.

It was around four in the morning now, and Giovanni had been trying to get Nate to leave since twelve. He gave up, just accepting that Nate was one of those hookups that permeated your life and would casually be a part of it until they got bored. He didn’t mind that. Nate was a good fuck and had a solid sense of humor. He also didn’t snore and was clean about the bathroom and kitchen. He was pleasant to be around, so much so that Giovanni was beginning to consider the friends with benefits situation the man had proposed. He was an oil rig worker from out of state and would only be in town for days at a town. There was no need to panic about feelings developing. It was just good, clean, fun—just how Giovanni liked it.

Nate left before eight in the morning. He had a plane to catch and promised to text Giovanni over the week. Giovanni spent the early hours cleaning about his place and the bar, after he took a shower. He got the morning off, for the most part. People weren’t looking for alcohol so early in the morning unless they were homeless.

Giovanni didn’t mind his job, even though it had wonky hours. He owned his place, and he kept his tips. The bar—his apartment, was the best thing his ex had ever given to him. Years after, and it was still paying off the debts his deceased father had racked up in his name when he was younger. He’d never known his mum. What she looked, or where she was from. He just knew she had been foreign and had been deported at a point and never returned. His father had told him she was from Greece, but his father lied about many things, so it was safe to say Giovanni didn’t trust him. He could do some ancestry tests to find out, but he’s promised to close the chapter of his life he spent looking for her.

If she wanted to, she would look for him. He wasn’t hard to find. At least, he hoped so. Regardless, if she wasn’t looking for him, why should he bother looking for her? It wasn’t worth it.

Reminiscing about his past was starting to make Giovanni a little irritated, so he took a break from stocking the cabinets to check his phone. He had a few texts from potential hookups, one from Nate stating he had boarded his flight, and a new one from Ashkii. He rose his brow at that. Ashkii had been very off in person and in text for the last two weeks. He used to come to the bar every other day, but since the day with Nate, he’d only shown up twice and had been giving Giovanni one to three-word text replies.

Giovanni clicked the message icon, raising his brow in surprise when he spotted a paragraph of text instead of the usual message composed of a few words.

Ashkii.

Are you free tomorrow? I was wondering if you would want to hang out. I haven’t had time to come over. It’s been really busy with school at my end, but if you’re not opening in the morning, we could go have some food or chat at my place over a movie.

Saturday, 10:31 AM.

Giovanni cocked his head. Then he cocked it some more, frowning this time. It almost seemed like Ashkii was asking him out on a date—well, he probably wasn’t. Nate had probably just drilled his conspiracy theories into Giovanni’s head. Or at least the bartender hoped so.

Giovanni.

Sure, I could close up on Sunday, so don’t worry about time. There’s a waffle house near your university, but I have your sweater, still, so maybe it’s a better idea to meet you up at your place. Text me the address, and what time works for you.

Saturday, 10:47 AM.

Giovanni dropped his phone, but it buzzed almost immediately. He picked it up again and noticed a message notification from Ashkii.

Ashkii.

Five in the evening works. I’ll google maps pinpoint my address to you.

Saturday, 10:48 AM.

Giovanni smiled, pleased that Ashkii didn’t seem to be pulling away anymore. He missed talking to the younger man. He never really had much to say, but he was great to talk to, in the sense that he listened and made comments when he knew what he was talking about or was excited. Giovanni always found that was a nice trait of his, being a bartender and having people talk at him all day and not really to him. He did get a few handsome customers here and there, but most of them were potbellied and drunk out of their minds, and Giovanni wasn’t really a fan of their attention.

The bartender headed upstairs to his apartment, stopping at his closest after laying his bed. He looked through it, taking out Ashkii’s sweater. He had planned to simply put it in a bag so that he wouldn’t forget it when heading out tomorrow, but for some reason he was hesitant. He stared down at the champion logo for a while, smiling a bit as he realized the younger man seemed to thrift for branded sports brands a lot. Heck, he couldn’t quite remember if he’d ever seen Ashkii in anything but jeans, sweats, and a variety of jumpers.

He chuckled a bit, placing it on the bed before going through his things to look for a bag. He wondered what sort of movie Ashkii would pick. When he found a bag, he wondered if he should pack some cans of beer or maybe a bottle of wine as well. They were unwinding and hanging out, after all.

Giovanni felt a bit giddy, he hadn’t been invited to something like this in a long while—well, unless it was a planned hookup, but he didn’t think that counted. He had a few friends here and there. Like Benny, his hairdresser, and Natasha from who asked him to chat over tacos as she complained about her dating problems. Ashkii was one of the few friends he wasn’t tussling under the covers with, and she supposed he needed something like this, and it was way overdue.

When he was done packing and cleaning up his bedroom, he had lunch as he watched a misologist drink mixing video. While he was eating, a notification popped up from Facebook messenger. His mood quickly soured. It was a message from his ex, Leslie. He thought about clicking it, and at least giving it a read, but he decided against that, and just cleared notifications before returning to eating and watching the YouTube video.

He didn’t hate Leslie—far from it. If anything, he was thankful for the man being in his life when he had been. He was just exhausting to talk to, and Giovanni wasn’t going to do that to himself just before he opened the bar for a long night’s shift.