STEFANO {Gay / MM Romance}

14

"We'll have the contract emailed to your office tomorrow." Giamatti's assistant held the door while I latched the toggles on my coat, following him out.

"Any bars around here? My train doesn't leave for a good hour." And I needed a drink after that four hour meeting.

"Straight down Main to sixth, sixth! Do not stop at fifth," he laughed. "Unless you want a queer beer."

"A..." Oh... fucking prick. I pushed past him, heading out into the Jersey streets.

Queer beer... what a jackass. I couldn't get away from this shit. I started across the street, heading towards fifth, watching that bar grow closer.

I detested these places- meat markets. But... I slowed, lingering there on the corner, pulling out my phone as a decoy while I studied the windows, trying to see inside.

"Excuse me."

I stepped back, head hung low, fumbling with my phone.

"You coming in?" His feet were facing mine and I glanced up, his smile immediate. "Or are you waiting for someone?"

My feet were suddenly in motion, walking towards the door he was holding open for me. "No, it's just me."

What the fuck was I doing! Why was I here- I didn't belong here. "Whiskey neat!" I went to sit, only to straighten right back up- one drink and I was out!

The guy from the door took the seat at my side just as the bartender slid my glass over, along with a napkin, embossed with a gold stamp 'The End Game' and a rainbow touchdown flag. Jesus Christ...

"Hey can you turn the game on?"

The guy beside me waved to the bartender who in turn tossed him the remote before taking off down the bar.

"You weren't watching that were you?" He looked to me while I looked up, not even realizing there was a TV above us.

"Nope. But Giants aren't playing so why bother."

"Ah," he laughed. "So you're from the city. Lemme guess Yankees for life and all that."

Being from the city had nothing to do with liking the Yankees- they were the best. I looked up at the screen then back to him as he messed with the remote, trying to figure it out. "Why not just go to a sports bar to watch it?"

He shrugged as he raised the remote, finally getting the playoff game on. "It's nice watching the game without everyone around me shouting homo, queer, and the ever so classy-fudgepacker- at the players they hate. Love when I'm the worst insult they can think of. Hey can I get a Heineken!" He waved back over to the bartender before rolling his face towards mine. "And... it's nice not having to play any damn guessing games." He laughed, twisting his face over his shoulders, eyes wandering the room.

I looked back too. "Meat market..."

He grabbed his beer off the counter, raising it towards my glass. "Aren't all bars meat markets?"

I thought about the bars back home, fuck he was right.

"So..." he continued. "Here for business? Pleasure..."

I looked at my suit, smiling back at him. "Yep." Bagging another multi-million dollar account- no greater pleasure.

"And ending your day at the meat market..." He laughed, taking another sip of his beer.

"No." I didn't come here for a cheap thrill... I was... curious.

"You shouldn't have a problem with that- handsome, suit, five o'clock shadow- top of tops... at least in my book. Sorry if that's presumptuous."

Handsome... I was smiling, it was nice to hear- from a man. But my top... I looked down at my shirt, just a grey Calvin Klein button down- nothing special. "Thanks."

"I'm Tony by the way." He struck out his hand and I watched it for a second before reaching for it.

"Stefano." The Shake was short, cold, rough hands that just felt like coarse skin.

The lack of feeling just made me remember his touch, the way his fingers tickled my palm, the warm waves his touch induced, the feeling that shot through me every time we touched.

"Why don't you stay for another drink, on me."

I dropped my hands to the bar, forcing Mark's twinkling eyes and that smile away before looking back at the dull ones that were staring at me.

"Another whiskey." I agreed and he turned right to the bartender while my eyes drifted back to my hands against the bar.

I hadn't seen Mark in almost two months and I hadn't talked to him since that call about Sadie weeks ago. But what did it matter- we were nothing. It was just a hand job. He had made that much clear. He kissed everybody- why did I think I was special. Waiting forever for a man, now waiting for only one man. I needed to shut it all down. This was what I needed- someone new.

The bartender slid the whiskey over and I pushed it to my lips, feeling Tony's eyes on me as I did.

No one knew me down here, and I was horny as fuck- my hand wasn't cutting it anymore- not after... his.

I looked over, Tony's eyes still on me- my face, my arms, my hands, my face again. He was looking at me just like the chicks that threw themselves at Luca and I back home. He'd probably give me whatever I wanted. An entire night of screwing around, and coming on repeat sounded so damn good. Fuck, it sounded so, damn, good.

He had a hot face too, nice body- what I could see of it at least. Shit, maybe he could be more than just a night. Jersey was a lot closer than Cali yet still far enough away to keep it under wraps.

"My place is just around the corner, we could finish our drinks there." He slid his hand over to my arm, my eyes instinctively following his fingers tapping against my suit. "You're kind of quiet, mysterious. I like that."

But the closer he got- the further my mind strayed to him - what was Mark doing right now? Was he at that bar again? Was he sitting next to a guy like I was, debating if he was going home with him? Was he kissing someone else...

I felt the pinch in my fingers, knuckles white as I dug my fingertips into the bar counter, growing more livid by the second. "Another!"

This was stupid. We were nothing. There had to be another guy out there who made me feel the same way he did, that took my breath away. I needed to think like Luca, sample everything, fuck just to fuck- focus on the end goal and not give a damn about faces or emotions. "Okay..."

I tossed some cash to the bar, following his lead towards the bar exit but before we hit the doors he stopped, abruptly turning around, bumping right into me.

His body was pressed against mine, his eyes, smile, all so close. But it was like my battery was dead, key in ignition, nothing starting, nothing- not one spark.

Because I didn't just want a hand or a mouth- I only wanted his. I didn't want to be in someone else's bed just for a good come. I couldn't detach myself, my heart was connected to my dick- it wanted more. "I can't."