Ubriacarsi.

It was six o’clock the same day and Frank found himself back at Ubriacarsi in the black work polo of his that Mikey had thrown in the wash and a pair of Gerard’s jeans that Mikey had taken from the older Way’s bedroom. He had been told, to his liking, that he would be following Mikey on the floor again. While things were slow, however, the older boy instructed him to do odd jobs: fill salt and pepper shakers, combine condiment bottles, and fill little soufflé cups with sides such as sour cream and salsa which Mikey referred to as sauces.

Frank found himself slightly resentful of this to begin with as he was sure that Mikey could have done these odd jobs himself or even had another employee do the grunt work. After all, it wasn’t every employee that Mikey made out with on his bed after bringing them home after work, at least Frank hoped that wasn’t the case. He felt his cheeks grow warm at the thought: Gerard had called Mikey a skank. And, to be honest, though the boy’s prowess when it came to being sensual was thoroughly enjoyable, he may have been a bit too good, now that Frank thought about it. Fuck, for all he knew, that could have been Mikey’s way of greeting all the new employees that he was attracted to.

Probably just a cheap fuck, Frank thought sighing and shaking his head. Though they technically hadn’t gone past second base, it still made him feel cheap, especially since it was quite obvious that Mikey had been the first person that Frank had even fooled around with. He didn’t quite feel slighted out of virginity or anything: that really only existed for girls without a torn fucking hymen. But at the same time, he had rather thought that Mikey had been genuinely interested in him and not just for fucking around with. Though, Frank had to admit, that was a plus.

But oh well, he shook his head, placing clear plastic tops on each of the little containers of salsa that he had finished filling. He probably would have been stupid to expect more than just being Mikey’s fuck buddy, but at least he did have that. So Frank continued working, but the smile from earlier in bed had resolutely faded off of his lips in the process.

He was halfway through filling up cups of tartar sauce when he felt familiar fingers on his back. A smile threatened to spread on his lips, but he held it back, though he could now feel pressure moving up and down his spine. “Is that the last one you have to do?” Mikey asked, his lips rather close to Frank’s hair.

Frank shook his head, his lips determinately downturned, “No, I still have cocktail sauce, too.”

“Ah, alright,” Mikey sounded a bit confused, surely by Frank’s newfound attitude, but he made his way to the refrigerator where the sauces and extra salad dressing were kept and pulled out the cocktail sauce, setting up next to Frank and starting to fill them. “You wanna get a cigarette once we’re done?”

“I guess,” Frank just shrugged, turning slightly away from Mikey. He wasn’t sure why he was still upset with Mikey, as he was actually helping now, but it seemed to be fitting and he seemed to be allowed to be, all things considered.

“So…” Mikey raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat as he continued working, “what’s your deal then?”

“I dunno,” the younger, shorter boy shook his head, again, starting to put lids on the tartar, “I guess you.”

“Me?” far from being offended, Mikey sounded amused. He smirked, flicking his eyes to Frank. “What’d I do then?”

Frank’s eyes moved from the cooks behind the line to a bartender taking a salad out to one of her customers to a waitress sauntering lazily through the kitchen, looking at the posted work schedule. “Why don’t we talk when we go for a cigarette,” he suggested. His eyes moved to the thin figure of the waitress and he wondered if Mikey had given her a few welcome shots as well. Though Gerard had claimed that he was flat out gay not bisexual or the like. Regardless, Frank decided, sighing rather heavily, it wasn’t exactly as if there had never been another male employee.

“Jesus,” Mikey chuckled again, setting the scoop that he was using down. He moved closer to Frank, pressing his lips to the younger boy’s ear, “maybe I should have fucked you last night, you’re so uptight.”

Frank rolled his eyes, clicking the last top onto the salsa that he was filling, “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

The older boy just laughed quietly as Frank put the now full tub of little cups of salsa away and finished with his share as well, “I’d ask what’s up your ass today,” he said, putting the tartar sauce away, “but I think it’s the lack of something that’s got you so pissy.”

“You’re an asshole,” Frank breathed, but he followed Mikey as he left the kitchen anyway, passing through the kitchen door that was held open for him and sat on the picnic table that was used for employee smoking. He waited for Mikey to light up a cigarette, then copied the action, sighing yet again as he watched cars pass on the roads several yards away.

“So, you’re pissed off then,” Mikey stated, taking a hit of his cigarette, “what’s up?”

“It’s like… I dunno,” Frank took a drag himself, finally looking over to the older boy, “what were you doing while you gave me bullshit work to do?”

“Well, a few things,” Mikey squinted his eyes to prevent smoke from his cigarette to get in them, exhaling smoke before he finished, “I cut some fruit for the bar, restocked dinner and cocktail napkins, refilled silverware in the drawers. But you know,” he took another hit of his cigarette, his eyebrows raised, “most managers get other people to do side work so I really don’t get where you’re coming from.”

“Okay,” Frank conceded, but he took another angry drag of his cigarette.

“You gonna spit the rest out now?” shot Mikey, flicking his cigarette rather heatedly, “Cause there’s no way that’s the whole thing.”

“Kay, now many new employees do you fuck around with?”

“My god!” The picnic table shook slightly with Mikey’s laughter and he had a fresh eye roll. “And I thought being a fag meant you didn’t have to deal with bitches.”

“Can you answer the fucking question, Mike? I think it’s a fair enough.”

“Well, honestly, Frank, if you really think you’re the first dude I’ve ever kissed, you’ve got to be delusional. And if you think I haven’t fucked around with another dude before, you’ve also got to be fucked. Not everyone’s a little miss virgin Mary like you, honey.”

Frank flicked the cigarette that had been done being smoked minutes ago into an ashtray and let a toxic breath out. “I don’t care about that shit. I just wanna know how many dicks I’m competing with here.”

Mikey took a last hit of his cigarette and shook his head, laughing yet again. “Christ,” he murmured, “just cause I fuck people, doesn’t mean I sleep around.”

“Anyone at work before?”

Mikey hesitated for a few moments, then nodded, “Once.”

“Ray said you’d give me shots, is this a common thing you do or-”

“I’ve done it before.”

“So what the fuck does that make me?”

“Frank,” the older boy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, “it makes you Frank. Which makes you hot, yeah. But if you were a cheap fuck, I’d have fucked you last night. So please,” he scooted toward Frank taking the younger boy’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers against Frank’s will, pressing his lips to the back of the younger boy’s hand, “just stop the bitching, alright? I like you. Can’t you just get over the petty shit?”

Frank just sighed turning his head away from Mikey.“You make me sound like a fucking pussy.” But he closed his eyes as Mikey’s lips pressed to his neck. He felt the older boy’s teeth scrape across his skin, “Mikey…” he couldn’t help but groan a bit, but he also couldn’t help but push the older boy off of him. His eye flicked to the road again where several cars passed in close procession, “not here. Not now.”

“So then later?” Mikey suggested, pulling back from Frank’s neck. He used his apron to wipe the residual saliva off of the younger boy’s skin.

“I dunno…” said Frank, but this time he let a smirk stretch his lips, “any other boy’s necks taste as good as mine?”

“M… not one,” Mikey chuckled, and he traced a finger on the rather sore skin on Frank’s neck. “You wanna spend the night again tonight?”

“Why? You planning on getting me drunk again?”

“Nah,” Mikey chuckled, standing up from the picnic table, raising his eyebrows with a smirk, “but it might spare your mom from asking where you got that huge ass hickey on your neck.”

“I…” Frank’s eyes widened and his hand came up to the skin that Mikey had just finished with on his neck, perceiving a small tinge of pain, “motherfucker!”

______________________________

Frank couldn’t help but let himself smile again as he followed Mikey around to tables that night, though he did think that it was rather a waste considering that with Mikey’s angular hips in front of him, it was rather hard to focus on what etiquette that his trainer was using with his tables, let alone the orders that the tables were submitting, so when he was back at the computer with Mikey, his stomach dropped as he was asked to type the first order in.

“Shit,” Frank said, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, “I didn’t know that I was-”

“It’s cool,” Mikey said, though the only thing cold seemed to be his voice as he started typing in the order from memory, “but you’re gonna have to write it down next time. You’re not following me just to hear me talk.”

“M sorry,” muttered Frank, but Mikey’s hand traced down his back and the older boy shrugged.

“Trust me, it’s cool. Go run two cokes and a diet to table three?”

“Course.”

Frank poured the drinks and trayed them, making sure to take beverage napkins with him as he balanced the black tray on his left hand. He pasted on a smile (because he knew that Mikey would appreciate it) as he approached the third table on the wall: teenagers, two guys and a girl, he noted, so maybe they would be easy to deal with.

They all just sort of starred as he approached though, but he kept his feeble smile, clearing his throat as he took a glass from the tray. “Who had the diet?” he asked, looking around the table.

The two guys rolled their eyes, and the girl sort of flicked her hand up with a scoff.

“Alright then,” Frank said, placing it in front of her. He noticed their folded menus on the table as he doled cokes out to the two boys, “were you ready to order or-”

“We’ve been ready for a while,” the boy on the bench with the girl stated rather bluntly.

“Oh,” Frank glanced around the table nervously, then smiled a bit, nodding, “well, I’ll just-”

“Chicken tenders,” said the boy sitting on his own bench, crossing his arms on the table, “and two orders of mozzarella sticks-”

Frank scrambled for his note book, as the boy continued to list items along with specificities for each, but the boy had already ended before he had even found a pen, and now the girl started her order up and Frank scribbled it down the bet he could, his right hand shaking rather nervously as he attempted to keep up. By the time the order was done, Frank was almost sure that he had missed more than half of it. But he found his way to the computer and looked hopelessly around for Mikey (who was nowhere in sight) before he made a timid attempt at typing the order for the table in.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, and he felt his eyes start to burn slightly as he looked nervously to table three.

Luckily, an angular figure caught his eye with the glimpse, and he breathed in deeply as Mikey approached him.

“What’s up?” asked the older boy, frowning slightly as he approached the computer.

“Table fucking three,” the younger responded quietly. “They ordered before I could some get you and I tried to write it down, but fuck… I think I missed at least half of it and they’re just… fucking teenagers… fucking attitudes… I just don’t know what to-”

“Well first,” Mikey said softly, “don’t say fuck so much on the floor. And second, teenagers are always douchebags- plain and simple. Just give me what you have. I’ll go fix it.”

Frank complied passing his notebook to Mikey who smiled a bit too understandingly and made his way over to table three.

“Hey,” he heard Mikey’s voice carry over from the table, “I just wanted to make sure that my trainee got your order right.”

Frank watched as the teenagers raised their eyebrows, rather put off by the need to repeat themselves as Mikey read off the notepad. He listened to three rather haughty voices correct Mikey as if the mistakes were his own instead of Frank’s. He listened to Mikey use a rather placid, accommodating voice as he corrected the order. And when the teenagers were done talking down to Mikey, Frank watched as his trainer turned around, dropping the phony look of accommodation that he’d tacked on while talking to the table.

“Not like you need a fucking PhD to take an order,” Frank heard a hushed voice state from the table as Mikey approached the computer.

“Fucking teenagers,” he hissed as he logged onto the screen. His eyes flitted over to Frank, who stood, rather apprehensively at his side and he cracked a reassuring sort of smile at the younger boy. “This job is like, ninety nine percent bullshit: acting, you know? So get your fucking happy face on because you gotta get used to tables like that.”