After leaving Euan alone in the kitchen for a moment, James finally emerged from his room, his damp hair still sticking to his forehead. A sense of calm had settled over him after his morning jog and the grocery run. He took a deep breath, savoring the inviting aroma of breakfast as he made his way into the kitchen.
"I thought you were serious about the pancakes," James teased, his voice light but playful as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, crossing his arms. Euan, completely absorbed in his task, moved with quiet precision, setting three plates on the table despite knowing Andrew's habit of skipping breakfast.
James raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the table, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You know Andrew's not going to drag himself out of bed for breakfast. Why bother setting three plates?" His tone was casual, but his gaze lingered on Euan, intrigued by his quiet determination.
Euan, unbothered, continued arranging the cutlery with focused intent, his brow furrowing slightly as he placed each piece with care. "It's okay," he replied, though there was a subtle note of stubbornness in his voice, as if holding onto a quiet ritual that only he truly understood.
James chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Living with a lover really does have its quirks. Should I just kick you both out and reclaim my sanity?" His tone was teasing, but his eyes softened, a fondness hidden beneath the banter.
Euan paused, looking up with a mischievous smirk that lit up his eyes. "Hah, do you mean you should start looking for a lover yourself? You're not getting any younger, you know," he quipped, his gaze dancing with a hint of challenge.
James grinned, leaning his cheek into his hand as he leaned against the table, a playful glint in his eyes. "Nah," he sighed dramatically, his voice filled with mock resignation. "I've got no interest in dating. Sounds like a hassle I'd rather avoid."
Euan, turning back to his task, glanced over at James, his expression softening into something more curious. "Did someone hurt you before?" His voice was gentle, probing, as if searching for the deeper reason behind James's reluctance to embrace love.
James's brow furrowed, taken aback by the question. "No, of course not," he replied quickly, his defensiveness evident in the way he stiffened. "What the hell are you asking, Euan?"
A playful glint sparkled in Euan's eyes as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Really?" He tilted his head, his voice teasing yet more gentle. "Then why the aversion to falling in love? What's the story there?"
James let out a long, weary sigh, his shoulders slumping as he rubbed his temples, the weight of the conversation weighing heavily on him. He looked up, his smile fading into something more contemplative and distant. "It's not that I'm avoiding it," he said softly, his voice now tinged with a new seriousness. "Love just... seems like too much unnecessary trouble. I'd rather stay alone than risk the regret I've seen in someone close to me, who sacrificed everything for love. That's enough to convince me not to walk down that same path."
The room grew quiet, James's words hanging in the air between them. Euan, sensing the shift in atmosphere, paused mid-motion, his playful demeanor fading into something more thoughtful. He turned slightly, his gaze softening with understanding.
"I thought I was the old one here," Euan finally said, breaking the silence with a light laugh, though his voice carried an undercurrent of empathy. "But look who's speaking like they've got all the experience when it comes to love."
James rolled his eyes, his smile returning, though it was tinged with weariness. "Stop being chatty, and let's eat. We've got to open the bar soon," he said, his tone light yet focused as he began eating, his gaze unfocused but grounded.
Euan smirked but followed his lead, taking his fork and cutting into his food. They ate in comfortable silence, the golden light of morning washing over the room. The sound of cutlery clinking was a soft backdrop to the tranquility of the scene, broken only by the occasional hum of the beach beyond.
Suddenly, the peace was interrupted by loud barking from the terrace, the sharp sound echoing through the villa. Both men glanced up, drawn to the open glass doors. Fruitcake, their golden Labrador, stood by the doors, tail wagging furiously, eyes fixed on the beach where a group of people were playing volleyball.
Euan chuckled softly, his expression warming as he glanced at the dog. "Looks like someone's excited about the morning action," he said, his voice light and fond.
James wiped his hands on a napkin, his lips curling into a smile despite the sigh that escaped him. "Fruitcake, come here!" he called, his voice firm but affectionate.
The dog's ears perked up immediately, and he trotted obediently over to James, settling at his feet. His tail thumped against the floor with joy, and James leaned down to scratch his cheek. "See?" he said, his voice soft with affection, "I've got a lover right here, don't I, Fruitcake?"
Euan laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, don't be greedy," he teased, extending his arms toward the dog. "Come here, Fruitcake. Give me a morning hug too! Don't forget, I'm your Daddy too!" His words were playful, but the warmth in his tone was undeniable.
Fruitcake bounded over to Euan, his paws landing on his legs, tongue lolling out in delight. Euan ruffled the dog's fur with a smile, his voice full of affection. "Good boy," he murmured, his eyes soft as he petted him.
But as quickly as the mood lightened, Fruitcake barked again, this time with a more urgent tone. His eyes darted toward the bedroom door, and a low growl rumbled in his throat.
Euan frowned, reaching down to gently push the dog's head away, his fingers rubbing his ears in a soothing motion. "What's wrong, Fruitcake?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "Are you looking for your Daddy, Andrew?"
Fruitcake's ears twitched, but he remained focused on the bedroom door. Euan softened, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Just wait a bit. He'll come out and play with you later." He continued petting the dog, though his gaze wandered toward the door, concerned.
The dog barked once more, but his tail slowed, and after a moment, he padded toward Andrew's bedroom door. He circled it a few times, then lay down in front of it, his eyes locked on the door, waiting with unwavering loyalty.
Euan chuckled softly, glancing at James. "Who do you think Fruitcake loves the most?" he asked, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
James leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with exaggerated confidence. "Of course, it's me," he said, his voice dripping with mock arrogance. "Who else could it be? I'm the one who spoils him."
Euan laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright," he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "I won't argue with that. No need for a full-blown debate over breakfast." He glanced at the dog, who remained fixed by Andrew's door, his eyes intent and patient.
The easy rhythm of their friendship settled back into the space, comfortable and familiar. Euan took another bite, a soft smile curling on his lips as he watched the scene unfold—Fruitcake's loyalty, James's playful arrogance—filling his chest with warmth.
After breakfast, the routine continued with a quiet ease. James rolled up his sleeves and moved to the sink to wash the dishes, his movements methodical and calm. Euan wiped down the table, his gestures fluid and deliberate as he cleaned up, the sounds of water running and plates clinking filling the silence.
"James?" Euan's voice broke the stillness, a hint of curiosity in his tone. He glanced over at James, who was focused on scrubbing a plate.
"Hmm?" James answered absently, his attention on his work, but the slight tilt of his head indicated he was listening.
Euan held up a brightly colored flyer, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I found this in the grocery bag," he said. "There's a new art gallery opening on 2nd Avenue. I'd like to go. Maybe you can join me?"
James barely glanced over his shoulder, smirking knowingly. "You already know what I'm going to say," he teased, his voice light.
Euan moved closer, holding up the flyer with determination. "What if I try asking Andrew?" he said, his voice filled with a quiet, hopeful challenge.
James let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Good luck with that," he said, his tone teasing but not unkind. "You know his answer hasn't changed, and it probably never will."
Euan shrugged, his resolve unwavering. "I'll give it a shot later, anyway," he said with quiet confidence, tucking the flyer into his back pocket.
James finished the last dish, drying his hands on the apron before draping it over a chair. "Alright, enough of that," he said, his tone softening, his expression playful yet resigned. "Let's head to the Resto-bar before you start planning more impossible missions."
Euan's eyes drifted toward Fruitcake, who lay motionless by Andrew's door, his head resting heavily on his paws. The dog's eyes were half-closed, yet his ears flicked occasionally, alert to every subtle sound, ever watchful. Euan tilted his head slightly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "Fruitcake coming with us?" he asked, though the answer was already clear in the dog's unyielding position.
Fruitcake's gaze remained fixed on Andrew's door, his body still and steady, as if tethered to the only person who mattered to him. There was no hesitation in his loyalty—his silence spoke volumes, and his unwavering stance was the most certain answer.
James, watching the scene unfold, felt a soft warmth spread across his face. His lips curled into a small, fond smile. "I guess that's a no," he remarked, his tone light and affectionate, a quiet admiration in his eyes as he took in the dog's devotion.
***
as they headed to the restobar. James slid behind the counter, his fingers tapping a steady beat on the calculator as he cross-referenced the inventory and checked the record book in front of him. His brows were furrowed in concentration, the soft hum of the restobar amplifying the rhythmic sounds of pages turning and keys clicking. He was fully immersed in the task, the quiet focus in his demeanor contrasting with the bustle of the space around him.
Across the room, Euan moved methodically, scrubbing the tables and cleaning the windows with a quiet determination. The work felt routine, but there was an underlying contentment in his actions, a comfort in the familiarity of it all.
A few minutes later, the back door creaked open, and Kevin, the bartender, strolled in, followed by his twin sister, Hanna. They slipped into the flow of the restobar seamlessly, their presence as natural as the day itself.
Kevin, standing tall at six feet, moved with an easy grace. His sandy-blond hair was styled neatly, yet with enough of a tousled look to make it seem effortless. The sunlight caught his hair as he approached the bar, his blue eyes gleaming with a mischievous sparkle. With a cocky grin, he began flipping bottles behind the counter, his movements smooth and practiced. There was an undeniable charisma to him, an energy that made him hard to ignore.
Hanna, walking beside him, was Kevin's twin in appearance but a stark contrast in personality. While Kevin relished the spotlight, Hanna preferred the background. Her blond hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders, and her demeanor was quiet yet steady, a calming presence in the otherwise lively space.
As they went about their work, the soft jingle of the back door caught Hanna's attention. Fruitcake, their golden retriever, bounded in, his tail wagging enthusiastically. He nudged Hanna with his snout, nearly toppling the tray of ingredients she was carrying.
"Fruitcake, be careful!" Hanna exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and affection. She steadied the tray with practiced ease, her small smile a reflection of her fondness for the dog. Her eyes returned to her work quickly, though she spared another brief glance at the playful dog, her lips curling into a soft, knowing smile.
Seconds later, Andrew appeared, stepping in through the door behind Fruitcake. His eyes immediately found Euan, who was mopping near the bar, and without a word, he moved toward him. Andrew's presence seemed to fill the room, a perfect blend of quiet intensity and lightheartedness as he slipped his arms around Euan from behind, gently swaying them both.
"Hello," Andrew murmured, his voice low and playful as it warmed the air between them. His breath brushed against Euan's ear, sending a soft shiver down his spine. Euan smiled faintly but didn't stop working. His mop stayed in his hands, but he began going over the same spot, caught momentarily by Andrew's embrace.
"Hungry?" Euan asked, his tone warm but distracted as he tried to focus on his task, even though his heart skipped slightly from the closeness.
Andrew nodded against Euan's shoulder, resting his head there as though it were the most natural place to be. "Hmm," he hummed, content in the embrace, his voice soft with affection.
Across the room, James watched the exchange, his gaze narrowing slightly. He couldn't help but roll his eyes dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Ugh, stop with the lovey-dovey stuff. You're going to scare off our customers," he teased, his tone light but tinged with mock annoyance.
A round of quiet chuckles echoed in the room, but it quickly fell back into its usual hum. Euan, however, turned slightly to meet Andrew's gaze, his expression softening, yet something more serious flickered in his eyes.
"Andrew?" Euan's voice carried a subtle caution, a quiet request for clarity.
"Hmm?" Andrew's response was soft, his attention still firmly on the closeness they shared, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of Euan's shirt.
"I saw a flyer for the opening of a new art gallery on 2nd Avenue," Euan said, his voice carrying a hint of hope, a quiet yearning in his words. "I want to go, and James can come with me for the whole event." He glanced at James, searching for his backup. "Right, James?"
Andrew's expression shifted almost imperceptibly, the playfulness fading into something unreadable. He tightened his grip on Euan's waist slightly, as if to signal his desire to avoid the subject. "I'm hungry," Andrew murmured, his voice taking on a pleading edge as he released Euan and gently took his hand. "Let's go eat."
Euan sighed, sensing the shift in Andrew's mood. He let the mop rest against a nearby table, though his eyes lingered on it, knowing he was leaving the work unfinished. But with a resigned nod, he allowed Andrew to lead him out of the restobar.
James watched them leave, a knowing look on his face as he muttered under his breath, "Poor Euan," a small smirk tugging at his lips as he returned to his own work.
As soon as they reached the pathway from the restobar's backdoor leading toward the villa, Euan's patience finally snapped. Abruptly, he yanked his hand from Andrew's grasp, spinning around with frustration flaring in his eyes. "Andrew, I'm not even done with my work!" he said, his voice sharp, the tension in his posture unmistakable. "If you don't want me going to the gallery, just say it!"
Without waiting for a response, Euan turned and stormed toward the villa, his footsteps echoing along the pathway. The villa door swung open with more force than necessary, slamming behind him with a loud bang. Inside, he headed straight for the kitchen, his movements sharp and deliberate. Cupboards were yanked open, and drawers slammed shut as he vented his irritation in the only way he knew how.
Andrew stood frozen for a moment, processing what had just happened. Taking a deep breath, he finally followed Euan into the villa. As he stepped inside, he blinked, absorbing the impact of Euan's outburst, a pang of guilt settling heavily in his chest. Running a hand through his hair, he hesitated before moving forward in the kitchen, Andrew approached silently from behind and wrapped his arms around Euan in a tight, almost pleading embrace. His voice was barely a whisper, laced with apology. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Euan's lips in a bid for forgiveness.
Still simmering with frustration, Euan gently pried Andrew's hands from his waist, his expression cool. He walked to the fridge, grabbed a Tupperware container of leftovers, and placed it on the counter with a soft thud. "Just reheat this in the microwave," he said, his voice calm but distant, the tension between them still lingering in the air.
Without another word, Euan turned and left the kitchen, his steps purposeful as he headed back to the restobar. Andrew called after him, his voice softer now, carrying a hint of regret. "Euan…"
But Euan didn't respond. The hard click of the door closing behind him was the only reply Andrew received.
The story doesn't end here...
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