Sweet Devil [BL]

Chapter 2. Long Time No See

The background music floating in the bar was soothing, between classic, jazz, and popular songs. It tuned down the loud laughter of Vanessa, sparing Misha's ears, whereas the familiar scent of citrus put him at ease and calmed his lousy mood. Whenever his gaze landed on the cozy bar, he'd feel somewhat refreshed. The place had a friendly atmosphere, warm and comforting.

Still, Misha couldn't forget the antlers on his head so easily. Hence, the bar lost a bit of its charm in his eyes. Even the Christmas tree, the wreaths, and the garlands annoyed the hell out of him.

With a drawn-out sigh, Misha walked straight to the wooden counter. Meanwhile, Vanessa finally decided to leave him off the hook and took a broom to sweep the hardwood floor. Even if she'd rather tease her friend, she had work to do.

Like every evening, Misha dutifully cleaned his work area, and once done, he turned around to inventory the different bottles of alcohol on the vintage shelf. He bent down to note what was missing, and as he did so, a large hand tousled his hair, startling him into freezing.

"Your hair is damp. Don't you know how to use the hairdryer?" a husky voice asked near Misha's ear, making him suck in a breath.

Goodness, when would his friend learn that 'personal space' was a thing?! Even though Dereck knew he wasn't good with physical contact, he always stood close to him like a second skin!

"Of course it's damp! It's snowing outside if you didn't notice yet," Misha grunted, slapping the man's wrist with the back of his hand. "Anyway, I'm not in the mood to listen to your lectures, so could you please shut up?"

Misha lifted his head to look into the eyes of the tall, bulky man by his side. Dereck's gaze was genuinely gentle and warm, just like his smile. His trimmed black beard hid half of his thin lips, but the dimples in his cheeks were still visible. The curly crew haircut enhanced his sharp facial features yet couldn't diminish their gentleness.

The dimples deepened when Dereck chuckled. He said, "I won't lecture, I won't lecture. But there's going to be a storm tonight, so the bar will close sooner than usual, probably around midnight. If you want, I can give you a ride back home."

"Ok," Misha nodded, giving Dereck the cold shoulder. However, his friend didn't get the hint and didn't move an inch—even after a while passed. Thus, Misha had no other choice but to ask, "Can I help you with something?"

"Actually..." Dereck's voice trailed as he glanced at his friend with a strange expression. He hesitated a second before continuing, "You see, I went to the cemetery to visit my grandmother's grave this morning. While I was at it, I decided to pay my respects to your mother and sister...."

"Oh, well, thanks," Misha smiled slightly. The confession took him aback, but a warm feeling soon welled up in his chest. Dereck had no obligation to visit his family's grave, yet he still took the time to. And for that, he was grateful.

Dereck didn't know his mother for long, only two years, and she died when they were both ten years old. In other words, his friend wouldn't even remember his mother's face if it weren't for the old pictures of Mrs. Brown that Misha showed him from time to time. But as for his sister, Dereck knew her pretty well since Misha had always been very close to her.

"My pleasure," Dereck chuckled, "But that's not the point. I may have bumped into your 'giver of flowers'. You said that no one but you and them were still visiting your family grave, right? So I guess it probably was him."

"Wait. Him? It's a man?"

"Well, his back looked like that of a man's. However, he left without looking back after I hailed him, so I didn't see his face. He was a bit taller than you, had broad shoulders, and a good fashion sense. Ring a bell?"