Chapter 11 #2
After Blake and his friends left, Ethan bussed the booth and dropped the tub off behind the counter.
He groaned when he found the coffeepot on the warmer, with less than half an inch of coffee simmering into toxic sludge.
Philip had a bad habit of emptying the pot without brewing more.
Grumbling to himself, Ethan poured fresh grounds into the filter, swung the basket into place, and flipped the switch with an angry swipe.
He spun around to level a withering glare at Philip, and practically jumped out of his skin when he came face to face with Zane, who was leaning over the counter with a maniacal Cheshire-cat smile on his face.
“You’ll never guess who I just saw, casually walking down Valencia street.” Zane swung his shoulders and arms, miming the gait of his mystery sighting.
Ethan took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “I don’t know. Who?”
“Guess.”
“You just said I’d never guess.”
Zane held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Dirk Slocum.”
Ethan furrowed his brow. “Who’s that?”
Zane’s jaw fell open. “Who’s Dirk Slocum? Are you kidding me?” At the blank look in Ethan’s eyes, Zane said, “The porn star. You do watch porn, right?”
“Shh!” Ethan looked around, and when he was confident Zane’s question hadn’t been overheard by the diner’s customers, he answered in a quiet voice, “I have a couple DVDs.”
“DVDs?” Zane squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingertips against his temples. “My god,” he mumbled. “You watch porn scenes more than once?”
“Yeah, why not?”
The truth was, Ethan hadn’t actually watched the DVDs.
They’d been given to him as a gag gift. He wasn’t a fan of porn, and preferred fantasy when he was jerking off.
But admitting he could count on one hand the number of times he’d watched porn seemed like it would lead to a conversation he wanted to avoid.
“Porn scenes are like Kleenex. Use them once and discard them. A new scene is always hotter than one you’ve already watched. How could we have been friends this long, and I’m just now learning that you don’t know how porn works?”
Oblivious to their conversation, Philip danced by the counter, singing “Padam Padam”. He slid a coffee cup down the counter, the way Kylie Minogue did in the video, and Zane caught it. Delighted that Zane was playing along, Philip planted an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “Hi Zany.”
Philip hoisted himself onto the counter. Kicking his legs playfully, he asked, “What are we talking about?”
“You know who Dirk Slocum is, right?” Zane said. “The porn star?”
Philip turned up his nose in disgust. “I don’t watch that exploitative smut. I read erotica, like a proper lady.”
“You’re no lady.”
Philip scoffed in mock outrage and slapped Zane’s bicep. “How dare you!” With his sneaker, he tapped the shopping bag by Zane’s feet. “Did you buy me something to make up for being such a rude bitch?”
Chuckling, Zane blew a kiss at Philip. “Not this time.” He handed the bag to Ethan. “This is my thank you, for being such a good sport during my set on Friday.”
Ethan peeked inside and caught a glimpse of bubblegum pink fabric with a slight sheen. “What is it?”
“It’s your outfit for our trip to The Manhole, since I’m not convinced you’ve gone shopping for something slutty.”
Ethan lifted the sheer, short-sleeved button-up shirt out of the bag and held it in front of his face. “Zane, this is totally transparent.”
Archie, a charming older man who came in every Sunday for a cheese omelet while he worked on the New York Times crossword puzzle, held up his coffee cup. “Philip, darling, can I have some more coffee?”
It was no secret that Archie was sweet on Philip, and Philip basked in his attention.
“Anything for you, sexy.” Philip walked around the counter to get the coffeepot. He blew a kiss at Ethan and Zane as he walked by. “Talk to you later, boys.”
Ethan let the shirt drop back into the bag. “I don’t know about this. I don’t like being so exposed.”
“Why not? You’ve got that sexy twink energy working for you. Shave your chest that night, though. That shirt will look better with a bare chest.”
Ethan groaned and held up a pair of skinny jeans that looked like literal sausage casings. “Really? Will these even fit?”
“Honey, I’m your fairy gay-father. I have all your sizes stored in my phone.” Zane took hold of the jeans with both hands and stretched the fabric, letting it snap back like a rubber band. “See? They’re super stretchy. They’ll make your ass look fantastic.”
Ethan blew out a breath and stuffed the jeans back into the shopping bag. “They won’t leave much to the imagination.”
“You’re not doing the Dance of the Seven Veils. You’re trying to get a gay man’s attention. This is how you do that.” He gripped Ethan’s shoulder and gave it a little shake. “Trust me. It’ll be fun. We’re both going to get laid.”
“So, um… about that… Blake and I had sex last night.”
Zane’s mouth dropped into an exaggerated pout. “And I’m just now hearing about it? Why are you holding out on your best friend?”
“Relax, it was less than twelve hours ago. I was going to text you this afternoon.”
Zane rolled his hand impatiently. “So? How was it?”
Ethan smiled, with a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. “Really nice.”
“I’m happy for you. But you’re too young to be tied down to one man. You could be getting that freshly-fucked glow every weekend. Slut it up at The Manhole. It’s good for the self-esteem.” Zane patted Ethan’s chest. “Can I get a coffee to go? I’m on my way to a private lesson.”
“Sure.” Ethan slipped the largest to-go cup into a cardboard sleeve and filled it with coffee. “How are the lessons going?”
“Let’s just say someone should shoot the guy’s guitar and put the poor thing out of its misery.” He reached for his wallet when Ethan brought over his coffee and snapped on the lid.
Ethan held up his hand. “I’ll cover it. As a thank-you for picking out the clothes.”
“Thanks, babe.” Zane leaned over the counter and kissed Ethan’s cheek. “Try everything on tonight and send me a pic.” He took his coffee and waved over his shoulder on his way out. “And for god’s sake, throw out your DVDs and look up a Dirk Slocum scene. You won’t be sorry.”
Ethan stashed the bag of clothes on the shelf with the to-go containers and grabbed a rag to wipe down the counter.
He had no intention of getting laid at The Manhole.
Not when things were just starting to heat up with Blake.
He thought back to the night before, of holding Blake’s cock, so hot and hard, as he lost control––
“Ethan?” The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie. He’d been absentmindedly wiping the counter in a circle.
He turned to face Caleb, who was watching him from the pass-through window. “Order up.”
Ethan laughed at himself, dropped the rag into the bucket of bleach water, and went to pick up the plate of pancakes. He smiled as he carried the pancakes through the dining room, picturing how Blake’s nipples would look beneath a sheer pink shirt.