#thecastrostarter

Valentine’s Day meant exactly 45 minutes at dinner. Shrimp cocktail, and then ribeye on Tristan's British tongue; wedge salad and sea bass on Vivian's. They talked about how pathetic their friends with kids were and how happy that they were beyond such wasteful ventures. Travel was a better investment than cultivating tiny clones. No dessert, they both had frames to maintain. Then they'd go home at exactly 9:30 PM to have sex. It was 20 minutes of foreplay, 13 and half minutes of intercourse, then discussion of work while they smoked a cigarette. Tristan and Vivian had it down to a science by now. Then, she'd throw on her party dress and go for a drink with her single friends, and Tristan would slide into his suit and he'd sit at the most inconspicuous gay bar he could find and nurse the most expensive whiskey he could find. And if the right wrong guy spotted him, he could just claim he thought it was a whiskey pub. And if the right, right guy spotted him, then the night could be potentially interesting....  

“Are you... sure... that this is the look?”, Fredrick shouted from his place in the bathroom. His friend had convinced him to join him to a leather club that evening, but it not being his usual scene, he was at the mercy of his friend’s suggestions. Stepping out of the bathroom, he hooked thumbs underneath the straps of the harness he had been instructed to try on, as if it was his often worn backpack. “I think I look goofy,” the board shoulder man admitted, smiling and trying to play it off, despite how nearly naked he was in just a pair of black boxer briefs. 

Sam never did stuff like this, but it was a favor for the sweet, old lady at the laundromat that fancied herself somewhat of a matchmaker. They would sit and drink matcha tea and she’d tell Sam how she was too “young and pretty” to be single, and Sam never had the heart to tell her that she liked being single. She sat at the fancy Italian place, of course picked by Ms. Mihn. It wasn’t really her style, but she was dressed to impressed in a vintage Chanel jacket and packets combo, a cropped robin’s egg sweater hugging just below her navel. 

There was something about sitting in the local cafe, grading some admittedly misguided reports from some very hopeful teenagers that had Chet smiling to himself; amused at the reaches his students took to try for grades. A black coffee was his only company as he listens to the random top 40 that played quietly in the background, drowning out some back chatter in Chetan’s mind as he worked through his afternoon classes papers. The chime from the door rings into the cafe and Chet’s eyes are drawn up with a small smile; finding himself waving to the newest patron at the cafe.

He was getting a little courageous with his habits these days to be honest, padding down the park’s path; joint in hand as he puffs it gently and savored the light high he felt in the evening glow. The club was opening soon; which meant he could dance with some beautiful people soon, maybe fall into bed with one... or six. He didn’t care what or how it came to be tonight; he felt like it was going to be a good night, he felt infinite. Who knows, he might even find a friend for the night; they might not even fuck. That thought made Josh shiver, why be friends if there wasn’t going to be any benefits. The grimace on his face was there till he mentally reset it with another toke.

There was always a hint of amusement whenever Hayden found himself navigating the world; he always seemed to be that sudden unexpected factor that just seemed to throw a lot of folks off. Granted the sight of the six foot five, two hundred twenty-five pound hulk like figure roaming around the greenhouses asking about different flowers, soils and seeds was always a different sight for many. Of course it only got more comical as he’d found his quarry and left the store with one tiny little pot that had a very vibrant pink flower in the center of it; which was the reason for the extremely satisfied grin that Hayden held on his face. Which also disappeared as he ran full force into someone he hadn’t seen because his whole attention was focused on the flower he was bring back to his old pick-up truck.

"Come on now. It ain't even that late," Billy pleaded with the bartender, taking a seat at the counter. "Just a nightcap, yeah?" The bartender rolled his eyes as he poured him his usual and Billy made an effort not to down it all at once. He turned his stool around and scanned his surroundings. The hotel bar was mostly empty save for the night performers clearing out the stage and a few other lone customers finishing their drinks. His eyes finally landed on a man seating a few feet away from him. "Hey," he turned to the bartender again. "Pour that fella over there another one and tell him it's from me, will ya?" The actor watched eagerly as the bartender approached the man and refilled his glass, nodding towards Billy.

closed for @roman--esposito