"You can't wear a suit."
"Why not?"
"No one wears suits to clubs, dad."
The boys were kind to lend their apartment to him so that he could get changed, but he felt self conscious with the pair of them watching. It was a nice bathroom, white bathroom with forest green tiles in the shower and around the skirting of the walls. It was mature if a little on the small side. If they ever moved out of this flat and wanted something bigger, Steven would be more than happy to buy it for them (though Ezra probably wouldn't let him). He adjusted his burgundy tie that matched his burgundy checkered pocket square and admired his fine charcoal suit in the mirror. The two boys also admired his fine charcoal suit in the mirror. He could see Ezra leaning against the door frame and frowning. Colby wasn't half as invested as he passed by the door, busying himself with general housework. Occasionally, he would stick his head through the door and would give an opinion on whatever it was that Ezra was commenting on at that time.
This time he leaned his head through the door, a bottle of antibacterial spray in his hand, and agreed with Ezra. "The suits are very you, but they're not exactly club wear."
Steven frowned. He'd never really been to clubs. He'd only ever been forced by coworkers or friends that wanted to go for bachelor parties or some other celebration. It was awful. He couldn't see the enjoyment from being surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, horny, drunk people with music so loud he couldn't hear his own thoughts. Not that he was going to tell the boys that, he had to make them believe that he was interested in clubbing...
...Jesus, he was pathetic.
"I don't have any non-formal clothes," said Steven with a sorrowful sigh.
"You can borrow some of my clothes." Said Colby. "Stay here, I'll go grab some!" He rushed off before Ezra and Steven could stop him.
"I don't..." he said quietly to Steven, then turned in the direction of the bedroom and yelled louder, "I don't think your clothes would suit dad!"
Colby came rushing back, a big grin on his face. "Well, I don't have any suits, but I've definitely got stuff you'd wear to the clubs. Plus, Steven and I look the same size."
Steven was very flattered to have his body likened to a twenty-something year olds. Perhaps those gym days were paying off.
Colby walked past Ezra and presented his club outfits to Steven. They were on the revealing side to say the least. Steven picked up the shirt on the top of the pile and almost gasped at the sheer fabric, it had a rose print design but you had no idea until it was pressed against something. The jeans Colby offered were low waisted and torn at the knees and various other places. It was hard to tell whether it was purposeful design or whether Colby was incredibly clumsy. Both possibilities seemed very likely. The other options were a variety of vests and other sheer tops. Perhaps they weren't that bad, but to Steven who was very used to the comfort of a well sewn suit, the tops all seemed incredibly scandalous.
"It's not his style," Ezra said again.
"I'll wear it!" He felt stupid as soon as he said it, but he was tired of being seen as a person with a stick up his ass unable to relax. Stavros was cool, calm and collected. Steven was anything but, but he was willing to try. He grabbed a random pair of ripped jeans and —to his dismay— he grabbed a very low hanging black vest. Damn it. He put on a brave face and smiled at Ezra. "Perfect."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah. Of course." Steven smiled. "I was twenty at one point too, Ezra. I wore stuff like this sometimes."
He was lying through his teeth. Even in his youth, Steven would never be caught dead in something like this. He was a sweater and staying indoors sort of guy, never somebody who would go to the clubs. Ezra and Colby left the bathroom for Steven to get changed. Reluctantly, he took off his suit and changed into the jeans and vest. He looked at his reflection and was humiliated by the sight. What was a man of his age doing dressing like this?
He missed his suits.
There was murmured talking outside the bathroom door. He leaned his ear against him. His curiosity getting the better of him.
"I just don't know how I feel about my dad going out alone."
"He's not alone, Ez. He's going with Stavros."
"I know... but what if it's awkward between them."
Colby laughed. "Have you ever known Stavros to be awkward? Plus, even if he is he's not the type of guy to just abandon Steven or something. You're making up fake problems."
There was a pause, then a disgruntled: "Yeah. Maybe."
"Do you think that Stavros and Steven might-"
There was a knock at the front door.
"Stavros! Hey! How are you?"
Steven pushed away from the door, only to have it opened as soon as he did.
"You're all ready aren't you, Steven?" Colby came through the door.
Steven froze. He regretted his choice of hairstyle. He regretted asking to go out. He regretted every decision he'd made in his life up until that moment. Most of all, he regretted this stupid fucking outfit.
"Steven?" Stavros peered at him, peeking over Colby's shoulder. "I wasn't expecting this."
If there had been a window in that bathroom, Steven would've thrown himself out of it.
"It was Colby's idea." He admitted.
Colby beamed with pride. Even shooting Steven a small wink and a thumbs up.
"I do recognise that vest," said Stavros, "I think I remember you pole dancing in it."
"Jesus, I'd forgotten about that." Ezra's voice came from further back in the flat. He walked towards Stavros and came into Steven's line of sight. He stuck a pointed finger in Stavros's face. "Now listen here, young man! No funny business alright. No wandering hands. No staying up past curfew!"
"Curfew?" Stavros looked around. "I don't remember anything about a client."
"Midnight." Ezra stated.
"Midnight?!"
"Ezra!" Colby scolded him. "They're adults. More adult than both of us."
"I don't care." Ezra crossed his arms. "...3 AM at most."
Stavros gave a salute. "Sir, yes, sir." He grabbed Steven's hand and lead him out of the bathroom.
"Be safe!" Ezra called out as they were leading.
"They're not children." Said Colby.
To Steven's surprise, there was no awkwardness between them. If there was, he felt terribly guilty because he was often the one inserting it. Stavros talked so casually and about any random topic that came to his head that Steven couldn't help but laugh along and try and participate as best he could. When they were in the taxi, Stavros was practically reclined and he kept the window rolled down and gestured with a hand that hung half out of it. The wind ruffled his dark hair and blew open the already ridiculously unbuttoned shirt he was wearing, displaying his tattoos. It seemed like a dream the night Steven had run his hands over each and every one of them.
Even in the line to the club, Stavros was attractive and pleasant. Other men in the line would "accidentally" bump into him then would try and start a conversation. Steven couldn't blame them. They leered at Stavros' attractive form but not half as much as Steven did. He was so polite and charming and charismatic. Seducing people with a single smile.
The night wasn't too cold but it felt oddly colder in the neon blue light of the club sign. Twilight was the name of the club and the queue stretched round the building. Luckily, they were near the front.
Another guy approached Stavros, this one complimented Stavros' tattoo —just like every other guy tried to do— and the two of them got chatting.
Steven stepped back from them. This was such a stupid idea. What a charade. A whole performance that he imagined himself strutting on the stage for and then winning the affections of the prince. Every time he thought he couldn't get any stupider, that one day he'd get over his childish fantasies of being with somebody, but no. Here he was, revelling in his delusions and humiliating himself for them as well.
He stepped back and hit somebody.
"I'm so sorry." Immediately, he turned around to apologise.
He bumped into a man only slightly taller than him, ivory skinned and fair haired, handsome in an almost pure sort of way. Their face flushed red when Steven held onto their arm to steady himself. "No, I'm sorry." The man insisted. "I was... it's kind of embarrassing actually, but I was walking forward."
Steven let go of his arm and turned around. "Why? Is the line moving?" As if on queue, the line jolted forward as a large group of people were allowed in. Steven went to move with it, but the man grabbed his arm.
"Um, I didn't get your na-"
"Steven the line is moving." Stavros came over and placed his arm over his shoulder. He pulled Steven close, so close that Steven could smell the cologne on his neck.
The man's grip loosened and they went inside.
It seemed strange to Steven as Stavros wouldn't let go of him until they got to the bar.
"What will it be?" Stavros asked him, "On me, so get anything you want."
"Don't be silly." Steven automatically reached to his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I'll get them. The least I can do after you took me out tonight."
Stavros stared at him for a moment. He leaned against the bar and just looked at him. "Is that what you do?"
"What?"
Stavros was going to answer but another guy came over and tapped him on the shoulder and just like that he was off again. He didn't look nearly as chill with the attention this time. The man who tapped on Stavros' shoulder was young and lean and Steven was really beginning to wish he'd just worn his shirt. Stavros rolled his eyes at the man but the two went further along to talk about something anyway, so Steven stood by himself. He didn't want to watch them talking or flirting or whatever they were doing, so he kept his eyes glued to the bar.
"Whiskey on the rocks, please." A man said next to him. "Oh, hey!"
Steven lifted his head. It was the blonde man from outside, who once again flushed pink when Steven looked at him in the eyes. "Oh, hello."
The man smiled. "I'm glad I caught you again. I, um, I never got your name."
"I'm Steven." He did as he always did when he was caught off guard and went into business mode. He extended out his hand and shook hands with the man.
The man shook back. "I'm Alexander, but you can call me Alex. Can I get you a drink?"
"No, that's alright."
"Please. Anything you want, honest."
Steven gave in and just said he'd have whatever Alex was having. Alex seemed pleased with what and the two began chatting.
"Do you come here often?" Asked Alex.
"Not at all. I'm here with... a friend. My son's boyfriend recommended this club."
"You have a son? How old is he?"
"Twenty-four."
"Wow, you do not look old enough to have a twenty four year old son."
"Thank you, that's very nice of you to say."
"You know," the man held his glass by the top and swirled it, "I kept trying to pluck up the courage to talk to you in the line."
"Really? Why?" He'd been told he had a mean and unapproachable look to him, so he perhaps he was the frightening monster guarding against the handsome prince that was Stavros.
"Come on." The guy laughed, but soon stopped when he realised Steven was being serious. "Because you're hot."
It was Steven's turn to blush bright red. Instinctively, his hand went to his neck to pull on a tie that wasn't there. He couldn't find words to express his surprise but maybe his stuttering and red complexion said all he meant to.
"Have you never been called that before?" Alex asked. "I'll be more shocked by that than the kid thing."
Steven cleared his throat. "No. No I'm not frequently called that. Not at all."
"Maybe you should then." Alex smiled.
They talked for longer. Steven wasn't the biggest fan of whiskey, but he don't particularly like drinking in general so he didn't mind doing it for the night. Alex was endearing. He worked in PR for cosmetic brands, owned two dogs and was single (a random detail he inserted in and Steven didn't ask for). They exchanged phone numbers when Alex asked and —perhaps it was just Steven's overactive imagination— but he was sure Alex had shuffled closer to him a few times.
"Is he your boyfriend?" Alex asked.
"Who?"
"That big tall guy with all the tattoos." He nodded his head in Stavros' direction.
"No. We're just friends." Stavros was still talking to that other guy. He didn't look particularly thrilled by the conversation, but Steven was jealous all the same.
"That's good then." Alex said. When Steven asked why, he only smiled and kept on asking about Steven's life. "Do you like to dance?"
"Um..."
"Come on!"
He grabbed Steven's hand and dragged him onto the dance floor. The music was so much louder away from the bar. The lights were dim apart from the odd multicoloured strobe that would pass over the bustling bodies. Every ten minutes, a smoke machine would go off above. Alex pulled Steven through the crowd then turned around to face him. A high energy song that he didn't know was playing, but Alex clearly knew the words to as he sang along. His hands grasped Steven's waist and pulled him close.
Steven could feel Alex push forward against him, the feeling of his jeans against his own. Alex's hand caressed Steven's cheek. Then his eyes softened and he leaned in towards Steven. Steven didn't know what to do. He let his eyes close slightly and focus on Alex's approaching lips.
"Steven!"
"Stavros?"
Stavros pushed past some people. He looked worried and Steven couldn't understand why. He inserted himself in between Alex and Steven, turning his back to Alex as if he wasn't even there.
"Don't just wander off!" He scolded.
Steven frowned. "Wander off? I'm not a child. You know why we came here and you've been doing that!"
"What!"
"What!"
"Can we go outside?" Stavros yelled. "I can't hear you."
Stavros took him outside. Alex made a move to say something, but shrunk under Stavros' intimidating glare. The night felt cold when outside of the humid warmth of the club. The bouncers let them go outside, but said: "You won't be allowed back in if you go."
"That's fine," said Stavros and Steven agreed.
They walked away from the club, their footsteps in time with each other and their hands holding each other.
"Don't go off with random guys," said Stavros, "gay guys are still guys."
"I'm older than you, Stavros. I don't need you to be my babysitter."
"I'm just... I'm just trying to look out for you."
Steven was trying to not let himself get carried away with the feeling of Stavros' hand. It was large and rough, calloused in some areas and the knuckles and forearm were covered in dark hair. He had tried so hard to convince himself that he enjoyed the soft, delicate hands of a woman and whilst he still viewed them as a thing of beauty, he really liked how masculine Stavros' hands were. It looked even better with the new watch on his wrist.
"Do you like it?"
"Like what?" Stavros asked.
"The watch?"
"I do, but you shouldn't have bought it for me."
"Why?"
"I don't deserve it. I don't deserve your money. I would buy one for myself."
"Then why don't you?"
"I send a large majority of my money back to my mom in Greece. She's someone who deserves nice things."
"I think you do too." Steven insisted.
"You're a terrible judge of character."
"How dare you!" Steven ripped his hand away from Stavros'. "I'm tired of this. I wasn't born yesterday, I don't need you to make decisions for me."
"Really?" Stavros asked. "You had no idea who that guy is or what he wanted from you."
"I knew exactly what he wanted. The same thing the man you were speaking to wanted with you."
"What?"
"I'm not blind, Stavros."
"Are you cold?" Stavros stopped walking.
Unconsciously, Steven had wrapped his arms around himself and began to shiver. His teeth chattered and the hairs on his neck stood straight.
Stavros sighed. "Switch shirts with me." When Steven didn't do anything he grinned. "It's weird seeing you in anything but a shirt anyway."
Steven couldn't argue with that. He took off his vest. "Make sure you give it back at some point though. I'll wash it for Colby."
"Yes, mother."
"Be quiet."
Steven watched with an unflinching gaze as Stavros undid his shirt, one button at a time. Granted, he hasn't buttoned it up very far to begin with so it didn't take many more buttons to get it open. He pulled it off with a flourish then draped it over Steven's shoulders until he got his arms through. He even went the extra step of doing up each individual button for Steven, starting from the bottom. When he finished the top button, he adjusted the collar, his hands lingering there. The shirt was bigger on Steven than it had been on Stavros. The cuffs were slightly too long and the bodice a little too baggy, it was nice.
They stayed there for a moment. A very long, very quiet moment.
"I'll call a taxi." Stavros eventually said.