The young man wasn't the only one in a tuxedo; it seemed most of the crowd was attending the charity ball later. Feeling suddenly silly and woefully underdressed, Arthur almost turned around to leave. Then he spotted Alfred, mixing drinks behind a small bar in a corner.
Alfred was not in a tuxedo. He was dressed casually as well, wearing blue denims and some silk shirt of a color Arthur didn't notice because he could only see how it set off Alfred's eyes against his hair and-- just the movement of his body beneath it, the ripple of his throat as he leaned in and laughed at something someone said.
It hit Arthur along with the wave of body-heat in the room: he wanted Alfred so much he could hardly breathe. He didn't even know if he'd forgiven him yet, just knew that he wanted to kiss his lips and his temples and peel off his clothing and kiss everywhere beneath that as well, and to breathe his sunny scent and -- everything. Even if just once. All that remained was to make it happen.
Alfred spotted him. "Arthur! Hello. I'm glad you could make it. I--" He stopped speaking and stared at Arthur for a moment or two, wearing a puzzled expression. Perhaps he'd seen what was in Arthur's thoughts? Arthur was so hot inside that it was a wonder he didn't set Alfred aflame with a glance. Alfred laughed his nervous laugh, then continued. "Come on over and I'll introduce you?"
"Hello, Alfred," Arthur said. He walked over and held out his hand. "I have unequivocally shown up."
"And I'm unequivocally glad," Alfred said, trying to copy Arthur's accent as he liked to do. He shook hands, looking into Arthur's eyes as if trying to gauge his reaction. After a moment he released Arthur's fingers and looked back at whomever he'd been talking with. "This is Arthur Kirkland, an excellent attorney I've worked with. Arthur, this is Toris Nachurev, with Baltic Cleaning. They do housekeeping for several of my properties and half the offices in the Loop."
"Nice to meet you," Arthur said, shaking hands with the man, who was about his own age. He had longish brown hair and a friendly smile.
"Likewise. So what kind of law do you practice?" Nachurev asked with a slight Eastern European accent. He took a drink from Alfred.
"I specialize in family law matters," Arthur said. "Though I do some immigration."
"Really? I always need assistance with providing visas for my employees."
"I would imagine so," Arthur said, and they engaged in a shortish but pleasant conversation. He met a number of people as they came up to have their cocktails refreshed by Alfred, who was kept busy seeing to his own bar. Arthur was standing near-ish to Alfred for his own selfish reasons; while exchanging pleasantries and business cards he could listen to the breathiness in Alfred's voice as he spoke to them, could watch the sweat on his forehead and upper lip, and smell the drift of his cologne.
Arthur had only one martini. Alfred seemed to sip now and then at what looked like cola with its ice long melted. As it neared seven and the crowd began to thin, Alfred took a free moment to wipe down his bar and Arthur walked over. It was the first time it had been quiet enough for him to notice the music, some string arrangement: Boccherini, he thought.
"Should have hired a bartender," Alfred said. He glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. "You didn't mingle around much, I noticed."
"I met several very nice people, thank you," Arthur said, sipping the dregs of his martini. "Everyone comes to the bar, after all."
"Oh. I thought maybe you just wanted to hang around me."
"That, too," Arthur said in a neutral voice. He raised his eyebrows at Alfred's surprised look. Seemed Alfred hadn't expected Arthur to take his bait.
Just then a couple in formal dress walked up to say goodbye to Alfred. He chatted with them in a restless-sounding voice, and when they left, he yelled out "Last call!" at everyone who remained. Then he gave his bar yet another wipe with his towel, and then he looked at Arthur again.
"So? What is it, Arthur?"
"Are you going to the charity event?" Arthur asked.
"What? Oh, nah. They already have my pledge. And I don't have a date."
All Right, Tonight (Part 44/?)
Alfred was not in a tuxedo. He was dressed casually as well, wearing blue denims and some silk shirt of a color Arthur didn't notice because he could only see how it set off Alfred's eyes against his hair and-- just the movement of his body beneath it, the ripple of his throat as he leaned in and laughed at something someone said.
It hit Arthur along with the wave of body-heat in the room: he wanted Alfred so much he could hardly breathe. He didn't even know if he'd forgiven him yet, just knew that he wanted to kiss his lips and his temples and peel off his clothing and kiss everywhere beneath that as well, and to breathe his sunny scent and -- everything. Even if just once. All that remained was to make it happen.
Alfred spotted him. "Arthur! Hello. I'm glad you could make it. I--" He stopped speaking and stared at Arthur for a moment or two, wearing a puzzled expression. Perhaps he'd seen what was in Arthur's thoughts? Arthur was so hot inside that it was a wonder he didn't set Alfred aflame with a glance. Alfred laughed his nervous laugh, then continued. "Come on over and I'll introduce you?"
"Hello, Alfred," Arthur said. He walked over and held out his hand. "I have unequivocally shown up."
"And I'm unequivocally glad," Alfred said, trying to copy Arthur's accent as he liked to do. He shook hands, looking into Arthur's eyes as if trying to gauge his reaction. After a moment he released Arthur's fingers and looked back at whomever he'd been talking with. "This is Arthur Kirkland, an excellent attorney I've worked with. Arthur, this is Toris Nachurev, with Baltic Cleaning. They do housekeeping for several of my properties and half the offices in the Loop."
"Nice to meet you," Arthur said, shaking hands with the man, who was about his own age. He had longish brown hair and a friendly smile.
"Likewise. So what kind of law do you practice?" Nachurev asked with a slight Eastern European accent. He took a drink from Alfred.
"I specialize in family law matters," Arthur said. "Though I do some immigration."
"Really? I always need assistance with providing visas for my employees."
"I would imagine so," Arthur said, and they engaged in a shortish but pleasant conversation. He met a number of people as they came up to have their cocktails refreshed by Alfred, who was kept busy seeing to his own bar. Arthur was standing near-ish to Alfred for his own selfish reasons; while exchanging pleasantries and business cards he could listen to the breathiness in Alfred's voice as he spoke to them, could watch the sweat on his forehead and upper lip, and smell the drift of his cologne.
Arthur had only one martini. Alfred seemed to sip now and then at what looked like cola with its ice long melted. As it neared seven and the crowd began to thin, Alfred took a free moment to wipe down his bar and Arthur walked over. It was the first time it had been quiet enough for him to notice the music, some string arrangement: Boccherini, he thought.
"Should have hired a bartender," Alfred said. He glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. "You didn't mingle around much, I noticed."
"I met several very nice people, thank you," Arthur said, sipping the dregs of his martini. "Everyone comes to the bar, after all."
"Oh. I thought maybe you just wanted to hang around me."
"That, too," Arthur said in a neutral voice. He raised his eyebrows at Alfred's surprised look. Seemed Alfred hadn't expected Arthur to take his bait.
Just then a couple in formal dress walked up to say goodbye to Alfred. He chatted with them in a restless-sounding voice, and when they left, he yelled out "Last call!" at everyone who remained. Then he gave his bar yet another wipe with his towel, and then he looked at Arthur again.
"So? What is it, Arthur?"
"Are you going to the charity event?" Arthur asked.
"What? Oh, nah. They already have my pledge. And I don't have a date."