+Seven Hours - BL+

Café Mal’Chick Lyubov: the most popular café on the east side of the fair and wondrous city that its employee’s called their home. A Café that filled daily with plenty of young, female customers hungry for much more than just their famous tea and delectable cakes.

To the average woman, this was paradise.

…To the average man, it was a horrendous nightmare!

An average person would walk by this Café and see nothing out of the ordinary, nothing but a pleasant building with fancy draperies hanging in the large windows. The public would walk by and see the employees, all smiles as they carried around plates of succulent cakes and pastries and nicely brewed tea in fine china for their happy customers.

To the average person, this was simply a Café and nothing more.

But as the saying goes, never judge a book by its cover, for appearances can and often are deceiving.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


“You’re shitting me! This has to be a typo or something. Twelve an hour?”

The dark-haired man rose from his chair, smiling at Gabriel’s astonishment. “No. And please, watch your language. At Café Mal’Chick Lyubov, we take pride in a ‘clean’ and ‘proper’ environment.” He pushed up the pair of glasses that sat on the tip of his long, elegant nose. “We also believe in a fair payment of our trusted employee’s, as you can very well see.”

“No kidding.” Gabriel reread the papers over again, unable to believe his own eyes. Skimming over the lengthy job description, his wide eyes settled on the generous payment again. Twelve an hour for a seven-hour shift. That meant eighty-four dollars a day. He could pay his rent in a matter of days…! Gabriel swooned at the thought. This was a dream job come true!

The man walked around his desk and looked down at the papers in Gabriel’s hands.  His arms were crossed behind his back, head tilted high up, though his cobalt eyes held no superiority or pride, only keenness and generosity. “How does it sound? Interested?”

Gabriel’s head shot up, stars shining in his eyes. “Do you even have to ask? Sign me up!”

The man smirked. “Excellent. That is exactly what I wanted to hear.” He pulled his pen out and handed it to Gabriel, who took it with uncontrolled eagerness and signed his name down on the dotted line.

“Your first shift is tomorrow morning at nine; you’ll learn all that you need to then.” The man took the pen and the paper away from Gabriel when he was done. “You needn’t bring anything. Everything you’ll need will be here when you arrive.” He then sat back down in his armchair, lacing his fingers together. “Just come here tomorrow with a smile and you’ll do just fine.”

Gabriel grinned. “I won’t let you down, er…”

“You may call me ‘Sir’,” Sir offered. “And I’m sure you won’t.”

And just like that, Café Mal’Chick Lyubov had its new employee.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


On the stroke of nine Gabriel walked in through the front door of the Café, the soft jingling of a bell singing of his arrival. He took a deep breath, breathing in the sweet smells of fresh pastries and homebrewed tea. The sun outside was warm and the sky blue and clear—a perfect day to begin a new job.

There weren’t many customers here yet. Two girls who sat at a table off by the large window, the only customers in at the moment, enjoying delicious-looking slices of cake. But Gabriel knew better. More girls would come in through the same door he had. The place would be filled with giggles and smiles and pretty girls soon enough.

An impish grin crossed his features; he couldn’t wait to start.

“Ah, Gabriel. Welcome,” Sir greeted Gabriel as he appeared, presumably from the staff room. His black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, and he looked professional, though casual, in his suit. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Wonderful!” The man snapped his fingers, calling out towards the back room, “Christobella! Some assistance please.”

The back door that Sir had come through opened again and out stumbled a cute girl, half bent over and unlacing up the ribbons of her fancy dress shoes. Her long, curly blonde hair fell all about her, and her cheeks were flushed from rushing to meet Sir’s call. “You called, Sir?”

“This is Gabriel, our new employee.” He patted Gabriel’s shoulder, steering him forward towards Christobella. “Please show him to the back and have him prepared in the next twenty minutes.”

Christobella stood up properly and gave a slight bow to Sir. “Yes Sir. Right away.” She turned to go back into the room, but just as she pushed the door open she paused and glanced back at Gabriel. With a scrutinizing look she said, “Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

When Christobella disappeared from sight, Sir chuckled and continued to nudge Gabriel towards the door. “Please don’t mind the surliness. Christobella isn’t exactly a morning person.”

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at the Sir but thought better of it than to ask further questions. He opened the back door and entered the room. He halted just after entering upon the sight of so many shelves filled with make-up, shoes, wigs, and dresses of all kinds. There were a couple of lockers off in a corner, and the light pink walls that weren’t hidden behind shelves were completely covered by large mirrors with elegant frames.

“My shift’s long over and he makes me stay twenty extra minutes. I’d better be getting paid for this,” Christobella mumbled to herself as she dug through her locker, hastening to take off her dress shoes. “God my feet hurt.”

Gabriel entered the room with slow steps, more confused than excited now. He’d never seen so much make-up and accessories in one place before, even at a beauty parlor. His sister would’ve moaned in envy if she ever saw all this.

“Hey, you.”

Gabriel snapped away from his thoughts. Christobella stood with her hands on her hips, half-glaring at him. “Stop gawking and get over here.” She tapped her foot until Gabriel walked over, keeping just enough distance from the grumpy gal. She patted her hand on one of the lockers. “This is yours. You can get a lock from Sir the next time you see him. Your pet name is somewhere inside here, along with the uniform Sir wants you to wear for today. At the end of your shift, you put your uniform in that hamper over there, and the shoes in that box beside it.”

Gabriel went to his locker, still a little confused. “A pet-name?” he asked the other co-worker. Christobella let out a humorless laugh and nodded as she began to unzip her dress. When Gabriel caught this out of the corner of his eye, he quickly turned away. What the hell was she doing, changing in front of him? Weren't there seperate changing rooms?

Seeming to notice Gabriel’s discomfort, Christobella chuckled humourlessly. “Relax. I don’t have that you haven’t seen before.”

Turning around, Gabriel demanded, “What do you mea—”

He paused, his sentence cut off by a long silence. He stared at Christobella.

Something wasn’t right here.

Christobella no longer wore her dress but a pair navy blue jeans, ripped and torn enough to look worn but not too old, and a light blue t-shirt. Her once long curly blonde hair was now the shade of gold, and it was no longer curly but straight and messy. And it was definitely much shorter. Gabriel’s eyes dropped to her hands and he let out a choked gasp. Christobella held her long curly hair in her hands!

“What, never seen a wig before?”

Gabriel shook his head. “N-No it’s just…why do you…where did…huh?”

Christobella snorted and went to the laundry hamper, where she shoved the dress in with a careless push. Afterwards, she dumped her shoes into a box. “It’s just the uniform.” Her voice no longer sounded as sweet as it had moments ago. It now took a deeper tone, one that left Gabriel speechless. When she caught Gabriel still staring at her, she scratched her head. “Yeah. That was my reaction, too.” She went to go grab her bag that was in her locker, mumbling to herself, “Only mine had a little more cussing…”

Gabriel’s mouth dropped open, too stupefied to attempt a complete sentence. Where were her curves? Her breasts? And what had happened to her voice?!

Holy crap, Christobella was a man!

Unaware of the mental anguish going on in Gabriel’s head, Christobella picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulders, which Gabriel finally noticed were broad; masculine. He began to panic. But how was any of this possible? A man dressed up and pretending to be a girl? Madness! This was preposterous!

Gabriel looked back at his locker, where his supposed “uniform” for the day waited.

“Jesus Christ…” Gabriel swore under his breath.

“You know how to be a waiter, right?” Christobella asked as he tied up his brown converse shoes. “I really gotta get going; I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Y—Yeah…” Gabriel breathed, trying to calm the frantic pounding in his chest. “I worked as a waiter before.”

“Good.” He tied up his last shoe and went to close his locker to put the last of his things away. “The only extra stuff you have to do here is you have to greet them when they come in. Be polite and cute, and smile a lot, or else Sir will have your head.” He took one quick look around, making sure everything was in order, then looked into one of the mirrors and tried to wipe off his glittery eye shadow as best as he could. “Damn stuff never comes off… Anyway, sometimes the customers want to take pictures with you. You don’t have to, but Sir wants you to. It’s for publicity, or something like that.” Smirking with satisfaction of another workday completed, Christobella made his way for the door.

Coming out of his stupor, Gabriel blocked the doorway, keeping Christobella from leaving.

“Wait a minute! Christobella—”

“My name’s Christian.”

“Okay, Christian.” He ignored Christian’s stern frown and looked away, nervous and unable to grasp the situation. “When you say I have a pet name and a uniform, you mean—”

“That you’re stuck being a Drag Queen, too?” Christian interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “Oh yeah. Trust me on that. Now move. I want to go home and pretend this place doesn’t exist for the next twelve hours of my life. You’ll get your freedom later, ‘kay?” He grabbed Gabriel by his shoulder and forced him out of the way. Gabriel resisted but found himself standing off to the side anyway as his fellow co-worker walked out the door. Gabriel swallowed a growing lump in his throat. No matter how much he thought about it, no part of him could grasp the reality of his new job at all.

There had to be a mistake. There just had to. Determined to get things cleared up, Gabriel exited the staff changing room and headed in Sir’s direction.

When Sir, who sat at one of the tables with a cup of tea, noticed Gabriel heading towards him, he clapped his hands. “Gabriel! Time is money; money is time!”

Gabriel scowled. “You never told me I have to dress up like a girl!”

“It’s on the contract.”

“No it’s not, you liar!”

Sir frowned. Without warning he shot up from his seat, the chair he’d sat on screeching as it was pushed back. The few girls at a corner table stopped their talking and watched them. Comparing heights, Sir towered over Gabriel, and his intimidating shadow fell over Gabriel, cloaking him.

“It’s on the contract. If you need proof, then I can show it to you right now.” Sir began heading towards his office, still speaking as he marched his way to his domain. “But don’t you dare call me a liar just because you were silly enough to not read your own contract.”


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


There, in black ink, existed the very evidence that Gabriel had overlooked. All waiters at the café were to dress in feminine clothing, even to the point of make-up and wigs. When Gabriel demanded why this Café did such a thing, Sir only looked down at him and replied, “Because this is what Café Mal-Chick Lyubov is all about.”

Unfortunately, the paper also stated that all employees, once having signed their name on this contract, had to work a minimum of a year before they were allowed to quit. Gabriel had no choice but to comply, no matter how wrong and degrading this side of the job was. He needed the money…and he had to admit that he was a fool for not having paid attention to the whole contract and for thinking this Café was normal. Now he knew why there were always so many girls in this Café; he now knew why this place was so elegant and feminine looking; he now knew why he would be getting paid so much.

And now he knew that he was stuck with this.

Promptly after bringing reality down on Gabriel like a hammer to a nail, Sir allowed Gabriel a few more minutes to accept all of this out sympathy. He made it clear to him, however, that he wanted him in his uniform and ready to serve customers before half after nine.

When Gabriel felt as ready as he ever would be, he went back into the staff changing room. He was surprised upon entering to see someone else in the room, a different worker this time. They were just finishing putting on mascara when Gabriel walked in, but they jumped as though Gabriel had snuck up on him and grabbed him.

What a strange, jumpy person. Male, Gabriel assumed, and not a bad looking one at that. Pretty attractive, actually (even in the uniform he wore). Sharp, distinct features, like his thin mouth, strong jaw, and broad shoulders caught Gabriel’s eyes first. The baby blue dress he wore that made him look like a doll--as masculine and fairly well-built doll, but a doll nonetheless. Long dark hair, a brown wig, with straight cut bangs hung just over his eyes, casting a shadow over his eyes. And that expression... A reaction that read loud and clear: scared out of his skin. Even from across the room Gabriel could tell that the man had very intense eyes. However, any kindness they may have been displayed were suddenly smothered in a sudden accusatory glower that the man shot Gabriel’s way.

He didn’t have much of a chance to say anything to the other man because said man forced his head down and hurried out the door, brushing against Gabriel with a force that shoved him back a step or two.

Gabriel rubbed his sore shoulder and frowned at the door just as it slammed shut. “What crawled up his ass and died?” he mumbled to himself. Some welcome that was. Gabriel shook his head, muttering a small "whatever" he went to his locker, where his fate awaited him in the solid form of a black dress.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


“Ah, marvelous! It doesn’t pinch anywhere, does it?” Sir hovered around Gabriel, poking and prodding at him in his new uniform, pulling at his lacy sleeves and gloves.

“Yeah,” Gabriel muttered, not at all pleased. His black high heels hurt his feet and the lacing had taken forever to do. The buckles along the side of his sleeves were annoying, and the corset wasn’t exactly “his thing” (more his sisters idea of style, really). The dress didn’t pinch him anywhere, surprisingly enough. It fit him near perfectly.

“Excellent.” Sir, all smiles adjusted the tiny silver crown on Gabriel’s head. “Now, do you remember your pet-name?”

Gabriel flinched, groaning. “Yes, Sir.”

Sir stood back and inspected Gabriel, marveling at his latest masterpiece. “You know you look really good in that dress. Almost as if it was made solely for you.”

“Hurray.”

“Now, don’t let your wig fall off or get into your customers food or drinks,” Sir warned. “It’s happened once before and the poor girl wasn’t too happy…”

The guy probably wasn’t too happy either, Gabriel thought, pulling dejectedly at the long dark maroon hair that fell past his shoulders and down his back. But he kept quiet, hoping to get through the next seven hours without too much humiliation.

“Now onward, young Gigi. Make Café Mal’Chick Lyubov proud!”

Thus began the next seven hours of Gabriel’s life.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


The next time the bell chimed Gabriel greeted the customers, a forced smile on his lips.

“Welcome to Café Mal’Chick Lyubov. My name is Gigi and I will be your waiter this morning,” he said as feminine as he could manage, without it being too sweet for consumption. The girls smiled back and asked for a table for three. Gabriel, continuing to smile, led them to their seats.

As he handed them three menus, he caught out of the corner of his eye the same worker who had give him a hard time in the staff changing room, Mr. blue-eyes-blue-dress. He was picking up someone’s order from the chef, who Gabriel realized was an unfortunate as him and had to dress as a girl as well. As he watched the man bring his own customers their order, the man eye caught Gabriel’s eye, scowled, and looked away.

Gabriel fumed. What a jerk! He turned his attention back to the three girls in front of him to get their orders. Maybe if he kept his attention on his work, the hours would fly by and the other guy would just loosen up and stop acting like such a jackass.

“Hello there,” the chef had greeted Gabriel with a cheerful as he approached with the girls orders. Unlike the previous worker he’d met, the chef held a certain vigor about him, and his grey eyes held no hostility, only friendliness and welcome. Despite the overall situation, Gabriel couldn’t help but welcome the sudden change of atmosphere around the stranger. “You’re the new guy?”

“Unfortunately,” Gabriel responded, ripping the order out of his notebook and handing it to the chef.

“Don’t be like that,” the chef mock-chastised him as he skimmed the order. “There are more pros to this job than cons.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel muttered, unsure of what exactly those pros would be. While waiting for the chef to fetch the orders, he looked at the inside of the kitchen, eyeing the fancy dishes and cups and the long shelves filled with desserts.

“Trust me on this,” the chef spoke as he set the desserts on their china plates, careful to keep any from crumbling and making a mess. He picked up a can of whipped cream and set about adding even more sugar to the already super sweet desserts. He brushed the back of his hand on his forehead, brushing aside a few wavy stray strands of lilac hair that’d fallen out of the bun at the back of his head. “You might not like this job at first, but it’ll grow on you.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly fond of dressing up like a girl.”

“Why? Does it really threaten your masculinity that much?”

Gabriel opened his mouth but no words came. He wanted to retort that it didn’t emasculate him, he just didn’t like being dressed in drag, but then the chef shoved a large plate into his hands with the girl’s orders on it. No time for lengthy personal chats.

“Don’t be a stranger now,” the chef purred. “You just ask for me—Lorelei—whenever you need something, all right?”

Despite the abrupt ending of their conversation, Gabriel couldn’t help but truly smile at Lorelei before he turned and went back to his duties as a dolled-up waitress.

The hours came and went as they pleased, and Gabriel was sorry to say that the hostile worker, with his piercing gaze and pouting mouth, came and went as he pleased as well, along with the bad vibe he gave Gabriel. Later, two hours into the shift, they almost bumped right into each other. But of course the other boy rushed off as soon as he could without another glance back at Gabriel, or even an apology for bumping into him.

Lorelei, having witnessed the minor event, spoke up while Gabriel muttered curses under his breath. “Having trouble with Anya?”

“That’s his name?”

“His pet-name.”

Anya. The name came easy in his head, and he almost wanted to say it aloud. For such a pretty name, the guy's attitude sure didn't fit it well.

“What’s he got against me?” said Gabriel.

“He does that to everyone. He’s pretty distant, but as far as I can tell, I’d say that he just doesn’t like his job here. You’re the first new person we’ve gotten since him, so maybe you’re reminding him of his first time here?”

“Maybe.” Somehow, that didn’t seem like the answer.

When Gabriel wasn’t taking orders or greeting new customers to Café Mal-Chick Lyubov, his mind was on the other boy: Anya. He’d seen that stern look somewhere before, but he couldn’t for the life of him put a name to a face, or even to a memory. So instead he waited until he could find the perfect opportunity to corner Anya and put an end to the tension.

That moment came when Gabriel’s shift was over.

Upon entering the backroom to get ready to home, he spotted Anya in front of his locker, unzipping the back of his dress, unaware that Gabriel had even entered the room. From the many reflections of the mirrors around the room, Gabriel could see the blank expression etched on Anya’s face, thoughtful and calm, and even a little sad…

…But there was no time for spontaneous sympathy now! Anya needed a little talking to, and this was his opportunity to straighten out what had been eating at him all afternoon. Upon these thoughts, Gabriel locked the door behind him, fully aware that the people who’d come to take over for the rest of the day were already dressed and out there working. No one would come in and bother them now.

When Anya had yet to notice him, Gabriel took the initiative and cleared his throat. Anya nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned and finally noticed who was there.

“Hello there, Anya,” Gabriel crooned. “How’re you on this lovely evening?”

Anya said nothing, his eyebrows knitting together. As though not sensing the tension, or maybe sensing but ignoring it, Anya turned back to his locker and went about undoing the buckles all about his dress that looked harder to undo than it was to do them up.

Frustration burned deep in his veins, but Gabriel didn’t give up. He began to approach Anya, eyes drifting over the scenery as he moved in closer towards his stubborn prey.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice something earlier,” Gabriel drawled. Silence came from the other end, further fueling his burning desire to end this before it became a real problem. Not to mention tell off the impudent asshole for having been a jerk all day for no reason. “Something really, really interesting.”

He was close now, practically right up against Anya’s exposed back. He could hear the ruffling of clothes falter as Anya paused, finally aware of how close Gabriel was now. Close enough to feel the others body heat; close enough to hear him breathing calmly. So close, that Gabriel thought he even felt Anya shiver.

When Anya refused to turn and greet the visitor, Gabriel threw his calculated predators caution to the wind and grabbed Anya by his shoulders, forcing him around and shoving him against the lockers. Anya stared up at him through intense blue eyes, lips pursing.

“So what’s your problem, huh?” Gabriel demanded. “What was with all of those glares, hmm?”

Silence.

“What’s with the shitty attitude?”

“Fuck off, ok? Just fuck off!” Anya snapped, catching Gabriel off-guard. “I hate your face! I hate you being here! And I hate you touching me!”

Near speechless, Gabriel regained his footing and demanded, “What’s your problem? I haven’t done a thing to you!”

“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” Anya shouted, grabbing Gabriel’s hands and forcing them off of him. “I don’t have to explain myself to someone like you.”

“Oh. Someone like me? And what exactly is ‘someone like me’?”

Anya’s glare intensified to a point where even Gabriel began to feel a little nervous. He had to wonder just how much this stranger hated him.

“I’m not like you,” Anya spoke, his voice suddenly low, albiet shaky.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “What does that even mean, not like me?”

Anya shook his head. He attempted to shove Gabriel away, but Gabriel wouldn’t have any of that. No way in hell. He refused to be pushed around by someone with an attitude problem.

“Just spit it out. ‘People like me’, what the fuck is that even supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean!” Anya snapped. “You…You enjoyed it!”

Gabriel drew a blank. “I what?”

Anya snapped his eyes elsewhere, his intense frown deepening, his blue eyes unreadable and his demeanor intimidating. A few seconds went by, and though the frown remained, it didn’t seem as intense or angry as it had during those exploding moments of fury. Rather than just anger, it looked more so like frustration.

“So I’m the only one that remembers.”

Exasperated, Gabriel scratched his head and inquired as calmly as he could manage without slipping in a few choice words. “Remember what?”

Anya laughed without warning; a bitter laugh with a disbelieving smile. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that it didn’t register that it had actually happened until after Anya calmed down.

“Perfect. Just perfect.” Anya pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “It was the most fucked up thing to ever happen to me—and I’m the only one that remembers.”

“Excuse me, but I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gabriel reminded Anya, but he didn’t think Anya was listening to him anyway. He had a distant and far-off look, as though incredibly deep in thought—or memories? But then Anya slipped back in reality, and when his blue eyes fixated themselves on Gabriel’s, he swore he felt a shiver crawl down and up his spine.

“I didn’t think you’d remember. After all, it was just a game. A stupid teenage game.” Anya silently unbuckled the light blue lacy collar around his neck, letting it slip down his almost bare and lightly tanned chest, dropping onto the carpeted floor. Gabriel watched the collar slither off, but when he caught a quick glimpse of Anya’s chest, he had forced himself to look away, abruptly nervous for a different reason now.

“But I’ve always had a sharp memory.” Anya stopped smiling. “And I couldn’t forget.” He reached up and took a hold of the long dark brown wig he wore, and pulled it off to reveal semi-long dark brown hair. He shook his head, tossing his hair to one side.

Gabriel stared at Anya. Something about this boy felt familiar, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Memories, withholding that answer, eluded him.

Anya frowned and tossed the wig to the floor, the shoulder of his light blue dress slipping down a little, exposing a little more of his well developed torso.

“I could never forget no matter how hard I tried. Alcohol couldn’t numb the memory. Random flings couldn’t cover it up. And time just wouldn’t let it fade away.”

Still unreadable, still hard to tell now whether or not Anya was angry, frustrated, or sad. His voice had an indifferent tone to it, but Gabriel could sense that Anya was definitely not indifferent about it.

“Girls stopped seeming so pretty…” He trailed off, almost seeming to enter his own world again. “Their kisses didn’t have the same effect on me as they used to. Sex was…” Anya bit his lip, embarrassed. “And the more I forced myself to partake of their company, the more disgusted I felt. Of them…and myself.”

However sure Gabriel felt that he didn’t know this man, there was a familiarity to both him and his words, and when Anya spoke of this loss of interest, Gabriel felt a sort of sympathy and guilt.

“I’m…sorry to hear that,” he apologized, feeling obligated to do so when he hadn’t a clue why.

Anya snorted. “You should be.” He sneered at him with distaste. “It’s your fault.”

The mood had switched. Again. “What? How is it my fault you’re ga—”

“Don’t say it!” Anya interrupted. “It’s your fault. Don’t you dare ever deny it!” Anya stepped forward, forcing Gabriel back a few steps. Although Anya had to be a few inches shorter than him, without a doubt he easily stared down at Gabriel in other ways. “It’s your fault you were invited to the party! Your fault you were friends with the same person as me!” He continued forcing Gabriel back, who eyes widened with shock at the sudden outbursts. “It was your fault the bottle landed on me—you spun it, right?”

“Er—spun…?” Gabriel murmured. A bottle? Many memories flashed in his head. He’d been to many parties in his life, played many games that involved bottles. How the hell was he to remember just one incident on the spot?

“Yes! You spun the fucking bottle and it fucking landed one me!” Dampness collected at the corner of Anya’s eyes. He looked as fierce as he had long before, but it was a vulnerable ferocity that left Anya teetering between angry outbursts and hysterical sobs. “It just had to land on me, didn’t it?” Then, out of nowhere, a fist struck Gabriel’s chest, a fist that Gabriel could feel shaking as its owner practically said between breathy sobs, “it’s your fault I’m like this!”

What should he to do? Gabriel had never dealt with an angry, violent person who was constantly blaming him for something he, apparently, couldn’t even remember. The sight of Anya trying to supress his sobs but failing, still trying to hurt Gabriel but also failing tugged on Gabriel’s heartstrings. Deep down, he knew it wasn't his fault, yet he couldn't deny any sympathy that was in its  early budding stages. No matter how absurd and ludicrous this all sounded, he felt infinitely responsible.

Could he ever remember a game with a bottle and with another male? He was positively sure that he couldn’t—

“So, ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

…

Oh.

“Good. Because I’ll have you know, I don’t make it a habit of ‘making out’ with guys. But I have a reputation to keep. I’m not scared of anything and I’m not chickening out on a pathetic little game of ‘seven minutes in heaven’…so I want this done once, and I want it done right.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry. I’m not a fag or anything.”

Oh.

Anya calmed down only somewhat. He’d stopped pounding his fist against Gabriel, but hadn’t stopped sobbing to himself in silence. His body shook at the intensity of his bottled up emotions, and now that Gabriel remembered, he was fairly certain the boy had every right to cry his eyes out.

“…Aubrey?”

The boy snapped his head up, eyes wide with disbelief. But instead of a malicious glare or a hostile comment, he nodded his head, tears streaming down his red cheeks from equally red eyes.

Gabriel shook his head, finding it hard to look down at the boy who had once been considered an absolute Sex God at their old high school, a real skirt chaser. But now…

“Oh, Aubrey…is this why you dropped out senior year?”

Aubrey nodded again.

"Everyone kept saying it was because…” Gabriel paused, suddenly feeling stupid for saying what he was about to say, “well, you know, for knocking up one of your flings.”

“I wish,” Aubrey muttered, sniffling. “A child would be easier to deal with than…than this!”

Not sure what to say, Gabriel instead used the sleeve of his dress to wipe away the stray tears that gathered at the corners of Aubrey’s numb sky blue eyes. Aubrey said nothing and didn’t reject the gesture. He stood still, sniffling and biting his lower lip to keep from falling back into sobbing.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he reassured Aubrey. “So you’re gay! Big deal. There are lots of gay people in the world. It’s not that big a deal anymore; tons more people come out these days.”

“As if. In some countries you can still be killed for it. Hardly not a ‘big deal,’” Aubrey remarked. “They’re not even considered humans in some countries.”

“Then thank whatever deity that exists that you live in a country where if they even say anything offensive, you can press charges.”

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Well, when was the last time you heard the media spoon-feed the population with a story about a gay-hate crime or murder?”

“As if I trust everything the media says,” Aubrey said. “They tell you what works for them and they cover up the rest. Besides, there was a hate-crime just a month ago, remember?”

Gabriel sighed. “I remember now.”

“You're horrible at remembering things, aren't you?”

Gabriel nodded, embarrassed. “But that’s besides the point. Being gay in the modern world isn’t as hard as it needs to be. People are more accepting than they used to be.”

Aubrey shook his head. “How would you know?”

Gabriel almost laughed. “Duh. I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I wasn’t. And trust me, once you meet other people who are like you, life gets easier—and that includes the internal struggles in the beginning.” He wiped away another stray tear, hoping that he could shine some optimism on this. But it was becoming apparent that it wasn’t helping as much as he would’ve liked, what with Aubrey's fixed frown.

“Look…I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you expected them to—”

“You’re damn straight it didn’t work out the way I expected.”

Ignoring the irony of that last statement, Gabriel continued. “But just because it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to doesn’t mean that even better things won’t happen.”

More sniffling. “Yeah, right.” Aubrey’s hand rose and wiped at his red eyes, hoping to snuff out any tears that hoped to escape. “Pretending to be what everyone expects me to be, pretending to myself that I’m not what I am. Then coming out and losing everyone and everything I ever loved.”  He averted his eyes off into the distance, still biting his lower lip. “Nothing feels right anymore.”

Another tug at his heartstrings. Gabriel looked down at Aubrey and saw something he could completely sympathize with. He’d spilt his share of confused and scared tears. He remembered what it felt like to question every word he said, every thought and every desire. How scared he’d been when he actively went out to discover if his new desires were true or not… These were hard days for Aubrey, and Gabriel knew because he’d lived those days himself.

Snaking his arms around Aubrey, he heard a faint gasp of almost surprised protest, but Gabriel refused to let go. Just as his very first lover had proven to him what really felt right, he would show Aubrey just what it was he denied himself.

As one hand drifted downwards, another slid up and cupped the back of Aubrey’s head. Aubrey pulled his head back to look at him in bewilderment. Smiling at him in reassurance, Gabriel swiftly moved forward and caught Aubrey’s lips before any verbal objections could be made.

Aubrey’s hands clutched at Gabriel’s shoulders, at first in resistance, but as Gabriel worked his slow and sensuous magic, the clutching became a desperate grasping that sought to find something that hadn’t been previously allowed to exist. When Gabriel pulled back, he almost smiled when Aubrey had hesitated to let him.

“Did that feel wrong?”

Utterly speechless, Aubrey shook his head, his sky blue eyes completely transfixed on Gabriel’s.

He took Aubrey’s chin between his thumb and finger and tilted Aubrey’s head back. He trailed gentle and light kisses along his neck, pausing to lick where he felt a pulse. Aubrey’s breath hitched and he tensed, nearly succumbing already to the simple but loving ministrations. Gabriel smiled against Aubrey’s skin. He knew it. The fear and the anger and sorrow, it all derived from suppressing what felt natural, yet what Aubrey felt had to deny.

“Does this feel wrong?”

“N-No…” Aubrey breathed.

Gabriel pulled back from Aubrey’s neck and released his chin. “Then I suppose you have a lot to think about than.”

Aubrey looked like he had just had a heart attack. “W-What?”

Gabriel stepped back and stretched his arms. “I don’t know about you, but after a long day of work, I think I’m ready to go home. Can't miss my shows.” He gestured to Aubrey’s dress. “And aren’t you getting a little cold, being nearly half naked and all?”

Aubrey's hands shot down to haul up the fallen dress, covering what had been exposed while he sputtered an incomprehensible response.

Gabriel made his way to his locker. Just as he unlocked it, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he met a defeated and almost disappointed look.

“Do you think that sometime, you know…when we’re both not working…”

“You want to go out on a date?”

Aubrey's mouth thinned. "If that's what you want to call it."

Gabriel smiled. Aubrey's eyes were diverted to the floor, and he was frowning as his blushing grew a few shades redder. Gabriel’s smile grew even bigger when Aubrey added, “So…what do you say? Maybe we could go for a coffee, or something.”

“Ok.”

Aubrey shot his eyes up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Really, really?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Aubrey looked so speechless, like he hadn’t expected Gabriel to accept the invitation at all, not after everything that’d happened. And so quickly, too! Gabriel patted Aubrey’s shoulder and said to him that they would discuss the plans later, but for now, he honestly needed to get home and get some sleep. Aubrey just nodded in agreement, tongue-tied.


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Later, when both of them had left work, Gabriel thought back over his entire day as he walked back home to his apartment. He thought of the Sir, Christian, Lorelei, and of course Aubrey. And, even better yet, a possible date coming up! He sure hadn’t had one of those, not in a long while. Not since his last boyfriend—but he was a complete jerk, and who wanted to think about him anyway?

Gabriel exhaled, the action cleansing somehow. So much had happened in just seven hours, and already Gabriel looked forward to his next shift.

It was certainly true what they said.  Appearances are certainly deceiving, and this only held too true at Café Mal’Chick Lyubov.


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