“Oh boy…,” Josiah put to words what Denny was thinking.
The song was kind of familiar, but Denny felt like it had been clubbier instead of this punk rock version when he’d heard it. In the chorus, Alfie sang that if he’d been able to write a song, he’d already have the object of his affection under his arm. Which, to be fair, was a great lyric and while Alfie wasn’t a singer, the whole punk thing worked for him as he stood leaning toward the mic stand, and bobbed his head and body as much as he could without losing his balance.
When the song ended, the audience clapped and whistled, and Alfie, clearly avoiding Gray’s gaze, was helped off the stage by the friend.
Denny touched his arm when he was passing by. “Hey, that was brave as hell.”
Alfie shot him a small smile. “Thanks. Probably not my smartest move, but you know….”
“You never know,” Denny said over Drea introducing the next act.
Alfie’s friend came to them with his guitar in a case on his back, pushing Alfie’s chair toward him. “Here you go.”
“Denny? Can you help me with this?” Josiah called, and Denny said bye to Alfie and his friend before going to help Josiah.
They got the air moving and found a way to hook the swamp cooler into the window at the end of the bathrooms hallway. They also propped the door open and hoped that it’d help a little.
“Fingers crossed,” Josiah grunted as they finally walked out of the hallway.
The twins both seemed worried.
“What’s wrong?” Denny asked, looking around the bar.
Nelson was at the door, talking to someone just outside.
“Something went down with Alfie and Gray. We couldn’t hear. Then Gray said he’s not playing tonight, so….” Yolanda shrugged. “I don’t know. At least Alfie has his friend, you know.”
Josiah frowned. “Yeah.”
Then they were swept into work, and Denny pitched in where he could because somehow dropping the price of beer for a few hours got around and the place was packed despite the heat.
They made it home, wiped out and smelling of the bar, around three in the morning. After parking their respective cars, they walked to the door with stiff legs.
“I’m getting too old for this,” Josiah whined.
Denny glared at him playfully. Then they realized they were both standing the same exact way, like a man much older than either of them who couldn’t quite straighten his back.
They burst into laughter that carried through opening the door and getting inside.
“I’ll go shower. Should probably eat something,” Josiah said when he calmed down.
“Good thing I cooked earlier. There’s a decent stir fry in the fridge. Just needs noodles.”
“You’re an angel,” Josiah almost moaned the words. Then he took the few steps separating them and kissed Denny. “I like this,” he said after he stepped back.
“What?”
“Being able to kiss you.” Josiah smiled widely.
“Well, either we’re being bad or we’re balancing on the line of being bad, and somehow that actually turns me on more?” Denny frowned at his own words. He was being honest, he just hadn’t thought of it that way.
Josiah laughed, sounding delighted. “Okay. Well I’m going to take myself to the shower now. Thanks for cooking, honey.” He pecked Denny’s lips once before going upstairs.
Smiling, Denny turned to his task of making sure his man was fed after an evening of hard work.
They continued to exchange kisses, and making out without taking things further for the time being. The next Monday, Denny kissed Josiah bye as he left for work. It felt nice and added to the domesticity they were cultivating into their version of perfection.
Melody looked troubled when he got to work.
