For Us

2. Battered fish and ex-boyfriends.

{Cary}

Cary was pleasantly exhausted from his week of work and his wallet was full of cash from the drywall job he'd finally finished today. This booth felt private and safe in the midst of the crowd and his favourite person was slouched across from him, smiling, bobbing his head to the music. It was rare enough for Jon to allow himself a night off to unwind and Cary enjoyed his friend's enjoyment.

When his order arrived--a huge basket of battered fish poppers and hand cut malted potato chips—Jon's eyes widened with horror. "Is that mayonnaise?"

Cary chuckled, shaking the dipping sauce so it wiggled a little in the dish. "Yummmmm."

Jon cracked a smile. "Ugh Cary, don't tempt me. Now I totally want some."

Cary wrapped an arm protectively around the basket and scooped up a big pile of the goop with a piece of fish. "You stay strong over there. It's not that good and it's definitely not 'clean.' I'm gonna eat all of it."

When the band took the stage, Jon's eyes hooked on the front man and never left him. Kurtis Klassen glowed under the lights, hugging the mic and pouring his heart out, his voice climbing a huge range of sound. Cary glanced from Kurt's body, leaning towards the crowd, taut with emotion, to Jon's mesmerized face. "Huh," he said softly, smiling to himself, and smushed a fish bite between two potato chips to pop in his mouth.

Midway through the show, Kurt switched from electric to acoustic guitar, settling the sparkling strap on his shoulder and flashing a dazzling smile. "This next song is about the first kiss I wish I had—with the first guy I ever loved—" He leaned into the mic to purr dramatically. "—and, lovelies, he's here tonight."

Some cheers and whistles from the packed dance floor and Kurt stroked a big, throbbing chord out of his guitar to open the song. Jon slid down in the booth, his face flushed and his eyes wide under the brim of his cap.

"He didn't point you out," Cary said drily. "No one knows he's talking about you."

"Yeah I know that." Jon's voice sounded strangled. "I just...didn't think he would even remember me, really. Care—he wants me to meet him after for drinks."

Cary's face lifted in a smile. "So? He's a cute guy—you're a cute guy. You wanted to see him again and the feeling is mutual. What's the problem?"

Behind him, Kurt's voice crooned the chorus, about what might have been, about lost kisses and stolen moments. Catching the lyrics, Cary blinked and his own cheeks heated. So maybe he would be a little not okay with someone singing this song to a crowd about his first crush.

Jon ducked his head, hiding his face. "I can't do this. It was stupid for me to come." He slid out of the booth, checking his pockets for his phone and his wallet and keys.

Cary's eyebrows lifted, looking from the man on stage, lost in his song, to his half-finished basket of fries and battered fish, to his best friend hunched and miserable, eyeing the path to the door. "Kay. You need me to come with?"

"It's fine," Jon said. "If you're liking it—it's your weekend, you should have a night out."

"So should you," Cary commented.

Jon closed his fist against his chest, glaring back at him. "I can't." He shook his head hard--he wouldn't even look at the stage now. "You know I can't, Care. I've worked too hard to fuck it up going for drinks with Kurt Klassen. He's so out his #gaylife is trending." Jon's mouth twisted like he'd bitten into something bitter.

Cary shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth, but inwardly he sighed. He should have known it was too much to ask for Jon to loosen up and take one night off. "Fine, go. I'll see you at home."