(DISCONTINUED) LAFLAMS: FROM the_one_golden_sun

DIRTY THIRTY (pt 10)

The brunch place, called Drip, was the type of joint John always felt a teensy bit out of place in. Garish, ugly local art for sale on the walls, mismatched chairs, overblown descriptions on the menu. The kind of place yuppies went so they could feel like hipsters for an hour or so.

Their table was an obnoxious rounded triangle shape. John studied the menu closely, doing the best he could to ignore the foot brushing the length of his calf. Focused on keeping his hips still while he debated between bacon-studded caramel apple pancakes or the ginger-sage sausage polenta casserole.

The waiter appeared table-side. John dragged his gaze up while Alexander ordered black coffee and Lafayette some snooty sounding champagne cocktail.

“And for you?” The server waved his pencil carelessly in John’s direction. And of course, because the universe is a cruel place, their waiter was aggressively attractive. Solidly built, a swoop of sandy brown hair falling in his eyes. His face a nice balance between sweet and rugged. Chunky black glasses. Hints of ink on his biceps peeking out from underneath the sleeves of white v-neck t-shirt. John’s pulse skyrocketed as he quickly tried to think of a drink order. Could feel Alex and Laf’s eyes on him like lasers.

Under normal circumstances, John still got a little flustered around cute boys. Residual anxiety from closeted teenage years, constantly nervous that too lingering a look would reveal the contents of his heart. As he got older, he got better. Good enough to nail the two unworldly gentlemen at the table with him. But in his current state, the last thing he needed was to interact with a pretty stranger. He swallowed once, twice and opened his mouth to order--

Instead of a coherent order, what came out of his mouth was more of a hushed gasp. Somehow, incomprehensibly, the fucking plug began vibrating at that exact moment. They hadn’t told him it did that, goddamn it. And while it wasn’t very strong, it reminded him of exactly how raw and tender his asshole was at the moment, and automatically he jerked, his body searching for relief.

“I forgot, would you be so kind to bring us seven creamers, please?” Laf cut in. The fuck, he didn’t even order coffee, John almost laughed, then stopped. Shit, that seven was meant for him!

If the waiter found the exchange odd, his expression revealed nothing, he just hitched a cute little smile and returned his attention to John. Waited for him to order a drink, to say literally anything.

John willed himself to still, grit his teeth, stared down at his flists clenched on the table and spat “Orange juice, please.”

“Sure thing, my man.”

So help him, he watched the waiter saunter off, and of course even his ass looked good.

From across the table, Lafayette cleared his throat. It snapped John out of his reverie and back to reality, where the intensity of the vibrations swelled for a moment, then tapered off.

“You didn’t tell me it vibrated!” he hissed around his menu. Alex was overcome with a fit of the giggles, covered his face with his hands.

Laf on the other hand appeared wholly unaffected. Hardly looked up from his menu as he told John, “Please fix your tone. Or shall I invite our server to find out exactly why you are having difficulty with your order?”

John practically choked on his tongue. Knew all too well Laf could make good on any threat. Normally, John would bluff any such threat, but when a hot stranger was involved, he was too worried Laf would call it.

“Keep your voice down,”John pleaded quietly, shooting Laf a desperate look. The expression returned to him was challenging and impassible.

“Are you telling me what to do, John Laurens?” A dangerous, low remark. Alex’s eyes were wide with undisguised glee.