Heartbreak Hotel

Smoking Room

The cafe was more crowded than it had been that morning. Tom and Elvis squeezed into a booth, near the back. Tom was not exactly regretting his decision to accept Elvis' proposal to lunch, but he was not particularly excited about the situation, either. He sipped from his strawberry milkshake without tasting the flavor. He watched Elvis drink from his chocolate-banana shake - which he had been utterly delighted to have discovered on the menu, his eyes widening like a child's on his birthday. In a different time, Tom would have chuckled and poked fun at the older man's reaction when his own had been cool and almost uninterested at his 'discovery' of the berry shake he drank from. At the time, he had just shrugged, but his eyes twinkled with humor in spite of his casual absence of interest in his acquaintance's reaction to any form of dairy treat.

The waitress returned with their meals: a hamburger and fries for each. Tom and Elvis gave her their thanks, even as the waitress just had to know their hearts were not in it. It was not that the food was not tasty - it was, in fact, very much delicious. Much rather, Tom was just in a bit of a daze as he had been since the breakup. He knew he should have been over it, over her, free from it all, but he let the chains of heartbreak tighten around his heart. He didn't need her, he knew, but he wanted to need her even if she was long gone.

Ain't love a fun game? Tom thought with a bit of a smile. He watched Elvis munch into his burger. Tom's stomach rumbled, and the other man laughed.

"Well, dig in, already!" Elvis chuckled.

Tom rolled his eyes, but took a bite. It wasn't too bad; it was hotel food, which was not a luxury of any sort besides the value of it being free with the rent. Nevertheless, Tom ate the burger and fries quickly for a man who had thought his hunger was absent. When he had taken the final bite, he looked up to see Elvis looking at him.

Elvis looked at his own half-eaten burger to Tom's empty plate. "For one man, you eat like a pig!" He laughed but it was cut short. "I'm sorry - that was not very polite."

"But it's true." Tom smiled.

Elvis laughed again. "That it is, that it is."

The waitress came by again, with a glass of water for each. Tom noticed her glance linger on Elvis for a bit, before pausing to admire Tom's face, too. She blushed then walked away to go serve another table.

Elvis nudged him. "She's gonna ask you out anytime now." He chuckled.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"If you keep rolling your eyes, they're gonna end up stuck. That's what my mama says anyway."

"Well, I ain't your mama's son," Tom snapped.

"I never said you were." Elvis' face softened, and his gaze left Tom's face.

For some reason, Elvis' shyness touched him a bit. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That wasn't nice at all...though it would be something if we were separated brothers." Tom laughed.

Elvis' laughter merged with his. "Wouldn't it," he agreed. He took a hefty swig of water when he burst out laughing suddenly. "Oh my goodness, Tommy! That would be a dream come true. Ya know," he lowered his voice, "I'm naturally a blonde. This -" he gestured to his jet-black hair "- was done at the barber's about a week ago." Elvis chuckled.

Across from him, Tom simply nodded. He mimicked Elvis: "This -" he ran a hand through his blonde hair "- is all natural." He grinned a bit.

Elvis laughed. The two men finished off their waters and left a small but generous tip for their waitress before they stood up to leave the cafe. Outside, Elvis asked, "Well, what do you wanna do now?"

Tom shrugged. The question took him a bit by surprise; his first thought was Well, I don't know, smoke a cigarette then get some more sleep. But he thought that was more of a solitary activity. "I don't care: what do you wanna do since you're asking all the questions?"

"It does not matter to me."

"Great, so, you are without an answer, too." He snickered before an idea came to him. "Actually - why don't we go to my room and have a smoke?"

Elvis' eyes widened a bit, and he hesitated. "Well - I - yes, why not."

Tom's eyebrows lowered. "Do you want something a bit stronger -?"

"No." Elvis shook his head hurriedly. "A cigarette is fine."

They walked down a hallway, pausing at the fifth door on the left. Tom took his key out and unlocked the door. Elvis followed him into the room and had hardly sat down when Tom threw a pack of cigarettes at him. He looked down at them. He asked in a soft tone, "Do you really want to give me a whole pack?"

Tom stared at him. "Do you only need one or something?" He laughed.

"No, it's fine." Elvis studied the art on the package before opening it. He took out one of the sticks and was about to put it in his mouth when Tom said:

"Oh, yeah - you need a match, obviously." He threw one over.

Elvis caught it. "Yeah, duh." He pretended to give himself a slap on the head, chuckling. He tucked the cigarette between his lips, struck a match and brought it to the tip of the cigarette. His immediate reaction was to cough, and the cigarette flew out of his mouth to land onto the coffee table.

Tom burst out laughing, watching as Elvis accidentally knocked over a glass of water, dousing the cigarette in the process. When his laughter had ceased, he stood up to sit across from Elvis. Even then, he still was talking in a hysterical tone when he spoke. "Was - was that your first cigarette?"

Elvis blushed and nodded. Tom laughed at him again.

"And - you - you - the glass - and the - cig - the cigarette!" He threw his head back, his hair flipping back. His laughter echoed off of the walls. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Elvis, Tom stopped laughing. "Oh man! Well, do you want another one?"

"No - actually, yes. Everyone deserves a second chance, I think."

"That's for people, not cigarettes." But Tom gave him another cigarette and even lit it for him. "Just don't cough this one out," he teased.

Elvis sat forward, watching the smoke billow out a small amount.

"It is better if you lean back," insisted Tom, who had lit a cigarette for himself and was leaned back against a chair.

Elvis leaned back a bit. It was better, he had to think. Well, better than coughing it out and panicking because there was a chance he would have caught the whole hotel on fire, anyway. Elvis chuckled at the already memory. He was surprised to have found pleasure in a thing that had once caused him fear in the same hour. His cigarette burned down, and he accepted Tom's offer of a third one. They sat there in silence, smoking their way through a pack or two before Elvis looked at the clock.

"Oh my goodness! I have got to go call my mother," he said.

Tom grinned. "With or without the cigarette?"

"Huh?"

"Here, follow me." Tom walked over to where a mirror hung outside the bathroom. "Look at your reflection and tell me what you see."

Elvis looked. He thought Tom was just fooling around, even as he had a strong poker-face going, all the same. "I see...a handsome man with a cigarette in his mouth."

"No, no, no, I was talking about your reflection - not mine." Tom patted his shoulder, shaking his head, though he could not hide his arising grin.

"Oh, stop it, blondie!" Elvis laughed. "Now, you follow me." He walked back over to the coffee table and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. "Now, I've got to go call my mother - without a cigarette, thank you. Goodbye for now, Tom."

Tom smiled around his cigarette. "'Bye, Elvis!" He waved.

As Elvis left to return to his room, he was amused to see Tom still had a cigarette in his mouth when he closed the door behind him.