by Ariel Tachna
He worked his way even lower until he encountered the collar of Mathias’s shirt. He pulled it aside and bit the curve of his shoulder. Mathias’s entire body shuddered beneath him. “I’ll have to remember that,” Pascal murmured against Mathias’s skin, his voice ripe with promise.
Mathias reached for the hem of his shirt, but Pascal caught his hand and lifted it to his lips. “I’ll remember. We don’t have to do everything today.”
He turned Mathias’s hand in his and nibbled on the inside of his wrist. Mathias bucked beneath him with a sharp gasp. “How the hell do you turn every patch of skin you touch into a direct line to my dick?”
Pascal grinned at him. “Talent.”
Mathias smirked at him. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”
Pascal smirked back, more than a little pleased with Mathias’s reaction. “It will be my pleasure.”
Chapter 16
MATHIAS PULLED off his hoodie and hung it up in the back room of Le Salon. He brushed absently over his T-shirt to make sure it wasn’t wrinkled and headed out to the bar to check in with Michel about any specials for the night or any other menu changes. Adrien kept the bar well-stocked, but occasionally they would run out of something on the weekends when it was harder to get deliveries.
Michel looked him over slyly, gaze landing on Mathias’s neck and the row of bruises an inch above his collar. “Those are new.”
Mathias grinned. “Someone was feeling possessive this afternoon.”
“Someone?”
“Pascal,” Mathias said. “I wasn’t complaining.”
“Does Adrien know you’re picking up his customers?” Michel asked.
“I’m not.” Adrien had made his stance on that clear from the beginning. “We live in the same building. We ran into each other there. I mean, I see him when he comes in, obviously, but we’ve been dating for a while.”
“Really? Rumor has it he’s allergic to relationships,” Michel replied.
Mathias shrugged. Rumor wasn’t entirely wrong, but Mathias wasn’t going to add fuel to that fire, not when he needed more than ever to prove he was worthy of Pascal’s trust. Pascal wouldn’t come in tonight, but he was a regular, to the point that the staff knew him by name. The next time he came in, he’d hear whatever Mathias said now. “Anything I need to know about the menu tonight?”
“No specials, nothing out of stock at the moment, so just do your thing and let someone know if you have any problems.”
Michel had said that often the first few weeks Mathias had worked at the bar, but he hadn’t felt the need in months. Had something changed? “Should I expect any?”
“Maybe,” Michel said. “Some people will see those hickeys and figure you’re taken. Others may see them and think it means you’re easy.”
“I know how to say no, and people here are good about listening.”
“Let someone know if they don’t,” Michel repeated.
Adrien had given Mathias much the same talk when he hired him: be fun, be flirty, but don’t let the patrons cross the line. The bouncers weren’t just there to protect the customers. They would help the staff too. “I’ll be careful,” he said when he realized Michel was waiting for a reply.
“You’d better. Adrien would be upset if Pascal stopped coming in because his boyfriend got hurt on the job.”
Mathias grinned. Boyfriend. He loved the sound of that. He was Pascal’s boyfriend, and the marks on his neck proclaimed that to anyone who cared to notice. He turned out onto the floor to wipe tables and make himself useful until he had customers in his section. When they got busy—and on a Saturday, they’d be busy before long—everyone helped out where needed instead of staying in one section, but he wouldn’t barge in on someone else until it got crowded.
He nodded to the other waiters as he worked, catching a few glances at his neck. He smiled back smugly. He didn’t know that much about any of their personal lives, but he’d put money on none of them having a man like Pascal to go home to. They might not all see him as the catch he was—Pascal didn’t see himself that way—but Mathias knew how lucky he was to have caught Pascal’s eye. He’d have to keep saying it until Pascal believed him. Or even better, he’d have to seduce him every chance he got. That ought to take care of any idea in Pascal’s head that he was unattractive in Mathias’s eyes. It probably went deeper than sex appeal, but Mathias could start there. As outrageously good as Pascal had made him feel that afternoon with a few kisses and over-the-clothes caresses, Mathias was already looking forward to what would happen the next time they had time to lose the clothes. Not that he knew exactly when that would be, but he’d find a time. He didn’t have training next weekend, and Pascal’s sister would be the one to visit their parents. They’d both have to work at night, but they could spend all morning and early afternoon in bed both days if Pascal was amenable. Mathias would have to convince him to be amenable.
Mathias adjusted the fit of his jock as that train of thought had a predictable effect. The jock provided a layer of cloth between his cock and his jeans but little else. He’d have to watch his thoughts, or he’d be serving tables with a boner to go along with his hickeys. That thought made him grin. Pascal had done a number on him, and he couldn’t be happier about it.
“You look like you had a good night.”
“You could say that,” Mathias replied with a grin for Graham, the only server at Le Salon newer than he was.
“Lucky you.”
“Don’t I know it.”
A group of men came in before Graham could say anything else and took a seat at one of Mathias’s tables. “Work calls. Talk to you later.” He checked to make sure he had a pad to take orders and headed toward the table of men he didn’t recognize. That wasn’t unusual, especially on a Saturday night, but he always enjoyed seeing the regulars.
“Hello, bonjour,” he said. “I’m Mathias. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. What can I get you to drink?”
The men looked up at his words. Three of them smiled easily, but the fourth gave him a more careful once-over. Mathias kept his smile fixed but didn’t add the extra warmth in his voice. Michel’s warning held him back. He didn’t want trouble.
“What’s good?” Trouble asked.
“Our bartender is excellent,” Mathias replied. “I’m sure he can make any drink you order to your satisfaction. If you’re looking for a suggestion, though, his new pear martini has been very popular.”
“That sounds good,” one of Trouble’s friends said. “I’ll have one of those.”
The other two nodded. Mathias looked back at Trouble. “Make it a round?” he asked.
Trouble leaned a little closer. Mathias didn’t take a step back, tempted as he was, but he’d make sure to stand on the opposite side of the table when he came back with their drinks. “If a cute thing like you recommends it, I’m sure it’s good.”
Mathias barely refrained from snorting at the lame come-on. Pascal was so much smoother than this loser.
“I’ll be back with your drinks.” He headed toward the bar to place the order with Michel.
Something must have shown in his expression, because Michel asked, “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” Mathias said. “One of the guys at my table thinks he’s suave. He’s a joke. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Remember what I said earlier. If you can handle him, great. But don’t feel like you have to handle him on your own,” Michel reminded him.
An hour ago Mathias had brushed off the reminder. Now, he was glad of the security it offered. He didn’t think Trouble would be more than an annoyance, but it was reassuring to know he didn’t have to deal with it if it went beyond that. He checked to see if he had any other tables yet, but it was still early. After Michel had fixed the drinks, Mathias loaded his tray and returned to the table, careful to stand across from Trouble rather than next to him. No reason to make it easy for him to get a grope in.
“Here you go, gentlemen,” he said as he pas
sed the drinks around. “Pear martinis.” He waited as they sipped before asking, “What do you think?”
“Delicious,” Trouble said, raking his gaze the length of Mathias’s body. The other three echoed the approval without the leers. Mathias took that as his excuse to escape. He’d dealt with slimy customers before. Why did Trouble make him feel so much dirtier than the others had?
He retreated to the bar, well out of Trouble’s reach, while he waited for his other tables to fill or for someone else to need a hand. It didn’t take long before he had a new set of customers… right by Trouble’s table. He studied the layout of the space for a moment, trying to find a place to stand that would let him talk to his new customers while staying out of Trouble’s reach. He didn’t know for sure the man would grope him, but given the way he’d been watching Mathias, it seemed likely. Unfortunately he couldn’t see a way to do it without being obvious. He’d have to hope Trouble behaved himself.
He was halfway through taking the orders at the second table when he felt the surreptitious grope. He shifted enough to dislodge the unwelcome touch and braced for a confrontation if it returned, but he was able to finish their order in peace. When he was done with them, he edged around Trouble’s table to the opposite side again before checking if they needed anything. Trouble looked like he was about to say something, but his friends waved Mathias off before he could.
Mathias returned to the bar with the second order. “Did he cop a feel?” Michel asked as Mathias waited for the drinks.
“Yeah. Hardly the first time it’s happened. Probably won’t be the last either. I don’t like it, but it’s not worth making a scene over. Not unless he goes further than a harmless grope.”
“That’s a slippery slope,” Michel warned. “Watch yourself.”
“I will,” Mathias promised.
He dropped the drinks off at his second table and escaped without Trouble grabbing him again. He checked the rest of his area and smiled when he recognized Pascal’s friends. “René and Benjamin, right?” he said as he approached the table. “How are you tonight?”
“Doing well. How about you?” one of them—René, Mathias thought—asked.
“Bracing for a busy night,” Mathias said, “but other than that, I’m great.”
René gave Mathias’s neck a speculative look. “I’d say Pascal agrees.”
Mathias flushed even as he grinned. He didn’t know how much they knew about the problems of the past week, but odds were good Pascal had told them at least a little. “He didn’t kick me out, so I’d say you’re right.”
“You do understand what a big step this is for him, don’t you?” Benjamin asked.
Mathias nodded. “He told me about Robert. I guess you knew him too?”
“Yes, we both did. He and Pascal were everything to each other for the years they had together, but that was a long time ago.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?” Mathias asked, not quite joking.
“Neither.” Benjamin caught his gaze and held it, his face serious. “Pascal will measure your relationship against those memories if you let him. You can’t let him because you can’t win. He won’t be happy at forty-eight the way he was at twenty-eight. It’s not the way we’re wired as human beings. It’s not a question of better or worse. Just keep him grounded in the present instead of letting him get lost in the past.”
“He likes to top,” René added. “What he really needs, though, is someone who isn’t afraid to top him too.”
“René,” Benjamin said with a huff. “You can’t go around saying things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true and you know it.”
Benjamin looked back at Mathias. “I’ll have a Bellini, please. Don’t listen to René. He thrives on being outrageous.”
“Is he wrong?” Mathias asked.
“That’s a question you’d have to ask Pascal. We’ve been friends most of our lives. We were never lovers.”
Mathias had wondered but hadn’t wanted to ask. It wasn’t any of his business as long as it was in the past, even if they had been. He focused back on his job. It was safer than thinking about Pascal. “What would you like, René?”
“One of those spicy margaritas you made for me the night we met you,” René said.
“The chipotle margarita?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Coming right up.”
By the time he returned with their drinks, the bar was too busy for him to stay and chat. Then again, they hadn’t come in to visit with him anyway. He kept moving constantly until it was time for his break around ten. “Watch the table of four over there,” he warned Graham. “The guy with his back to us is handsy.”
“Aren’t they all?” Graham said with a shake of his head.
Mathias shrugged before walking toward the break room. He slumped down into the chair and took a deep breath as he considered Graham’s comment. Was Trouble really worse than any of the hundred men who’d groped him at one time or another since he’d started working at Le Salon? Or was the difference in his own perception of the situation?
When he’d first started working at the bar, the attention of the customers had been a huge ego boost. He’d been the only gay boy in his admittedly small high school, although there’d been a couple of girls who were out as well. That had changed in college, but even then, he’d always felt like the odd man out. Here, though, he was the object of admiration from all directions, and he played into it for all he was worth. Tight shirts, tighter jeans, a bit of eyeliner, a swish in his walk, he’d done everything he could to draw their attention to his body, and he’d reveled in the rush of power every time one of them reached for him. It had felt good to be desired that way.
Then Pascal had looked right through him at the bar and right at him in his suit, and his world had tipped on its axis. To the men in the bar, his ass was his best feature. Pascal had been plenty appreciative once they finally got naked, but he’d been even more appreciative of Mathias’s brain and his determination and his willingness to put in the hours at the bank to get ahead in his job.
Oh shit, he had it bad.
How was he supposed to go back out there—tonight or any night—and let men grope him now that he understood how much better it felt to be desired for who he was rather than how he looked? What had once gotten him worked up and eager to get home so he could jerk off now left him shying away because the hands on his ass weren’t the ones he wanted. If Pascal decided to come grope him in the bar, Mathias would snuggle right down on his lap for the whole world to see, but no one else’s touch was welcome.
He’d gotten good at the fun, flirty, inviting smile, and it had worked for him. Men responded to the fantasy he embodied and tipped him accordingly, especially when he didn’t protest the occasional wandering hands. He’d have to unlearn all that now and see if he couldn’t develop a professional, hands-off smile without costing himself so much in tips that he couldn’t afford to keep his apartment. Even knowing those touches promised nothing, he shuddered at being the object of their fantasies now.
“You okay?”
Mathias looked up to see Adrien at the door.
“Yeah, just taking a break. One of the customers grabbed my ass, and it threw me off-balance.”
“Which one? I’ll see to them for the rest of the night.”
“I can handle it,” Mathias protested. “It just caught me off guard.”
“You’ll get your tip,” Adrien said. “If it threw you this badly after all the months you’ve been working here, then it crossed a line.”
Or else Mathias’s line had moved.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Adrien patted his shoulder. “It’s different when you have a boyfriend to go home to, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I didn’t expect it to make a difference, or not this much of one. I mean, that’s real. This is just business.”
“No, it’s not just business if it bothers you,” Adrien said. �
�We’re a bar, not a sex shop. I can’t stop them from looking, but you have every right to stop them from touching, no matter where that line is for you. And if that line moves, that’s fine. What constitutes sexual harassment is different for each person who works here. There’s a reason Michel is behind the bar and not serving tables, and it’s not just because he makes a mean drink. I don’t step in unless I’m asked to because I can’t judge where the line is for anyone but myself, but I will not have my employees harassed by customers. One table’s worth of revenue won’t bankrupt me.”
“Thank you. It didn’t bother me until tonight, but….”
“I had doubts when you started, but you’ve proven what a hard worker you are. The regulars like you because you pay attention to their preferences and remember them. I don’t want to lose you now because something happens on the floor.”
“Thanks, that really means a lot.” Mathias looked down at his clothes. Maybe it was time to find a few pairs of jeans that weren’t quite so tight. He could always wear the tight ones to entice Pascal.
“Which table?”
Adrien’s words jolted Mathias out of that little fantasy. He cleared his throat to buy himself a second before replying. “Table sixteen.”
“I’ll handle them for the rest of the night. See me before you leave for your tip.” He left before Mathias could thank him again. He slumped back in the chair and tried to figure out how this had become his life.
Chapter 17
PASCAL KNOCKED on the door on his parents’ apartment precisely at noon on Sunday. He had a key, but he didn’t feel right just barging in. His parents weren’t as spry as they used to be, but they could still answer their own door.
“Pascal, come in. You know you don’t have to knock.” Pascal’s father held the door wide so Pascal could come in. He leaned down and kissed the weathered cheek.
“Hello, Papa. How are you today?”
“The same as always,” Papa replied. “Your mother is still primping, but we’ll be ready for lunch soon. Where are you taking us today?”