Chapter 2: Well...Maybe Not Cheap
"Cory I need you to get back inside and clean the fucking tables off!" Tyler shouted as he stepped outside into the area where the employees often went to smoke, take breaks and where the trash was piled. "We've got a table of- Jesus fucking Christ Cory!" Tyler was a little shocked to see Steph, one of the waitresses on her knees servicing Cory.
"Shit!" They both fumbled and clambered in an attempt to erase the scene. "I'll be right in." Cory buckled his belt back and Steph wiped her knees.
"Cory, Steph. Just get inside. And next time, find a better hiding spot." He told them as the three headed back inside. Tyler didn't want to be a hypocrite so he didn't tell them not to do what it all together. Tyler couldn't count on six hands how many times he and Beau had come back here to suck or fuck.
"Yes sir." They both said.
"And don't call me sir, I'm 26." They both nodded and apologized again.
It was turning out to be a busy Tuesday night at Jacks Steakhouse. One of the countless events in Austin had drummed up business for all the restaurants on South Lamar. Tyler rounded the corner and grabbed some plates one of the servers had sat down and forgotten.
"Bailey, can you go tell the cooks to hurry up with table 7's chicken parm?" Bailey nodded and off he went. Tyler got to the bar and grabbed the wines and martinis for table 13. He walked as quickly and safely as possible.
"And here we go ma'am, your Malbec." He placed it down and she thanked him. "Your Bombay Martini, and your Chardonay." The drinks placed, and the guests now listing off their orders Tyler tried his hardest to concentrate, but he could feel the loads Beau had given him earlier in the day start to settle at his back door. The memory of how Beau had fucked 4 loads so deep into him he swore he could taste it came flooding back as he wrote down that the lady of the table wanted no beans in her southwest salad.
Beau had stayed over last night and woken Tyler up by eating his already used hole, lubing it back up to be used again. He had slid it in right as Tyler woke up and was not gentle about it. He began pounding away, deep and hard. Just the way Tyler liked to be woken up.
"I'm so fucking horny, can you come over again tonight?" He whispered to Beau as he approached the POS by the bar to put his tables order in.
"Sorry, can't sisters coming into town tonight remember?" Beau leaned over the bar and took Tylers order booklet.
"Fuck I forgot. I gotta work all your morning shifts this week too, shit!" Tyler kicked himself inside over forgetting. Tyler took his booklet back.
"Maybe we can sneak off for a quicky though. You've still got my cum in you right? Already lubed up." He said cockily.
"Funny, look around. I've got a full section, Bethany is out sick, Steph was just outside blowing Cory, and Jacob is Jacob." Tyler put in another order he had forgotten to and put a rush on it.
"Should have called in Skylar."
"They just had eye surgery."
"Helen Keller was a waitress."
"No she wasn't."
"She wasn't?"
"No, she like invented braille or some shit." Tyler printed out checks for a few of his tables and entered the tips in for some others while he talked with Beau.
"Helen Keller didn't exist." Steph approached. "Hey, do you have a minute to do a firefighter discount for table 2?" She asked.
"Where's Bailey? He's the shift manager right now."
"Don't know, can't find him." She shrugged.
"Fucking - yes, give me a minute. I have to go, meet me in my car before you leave tonight." He said to Beau as he ran off to help run food from the kitchen.
The rush had subsided and the sun was just going down. Tyler was lowering the blinds to protect from the beautiful, yet blinding, sunset when Bailey approached.
"Hey, just sat you. Table 9, he asked for you specifically."
"Thanks, I'll be right there." He finished his task and walked over.
Him.
Tyler would recognize the dark curls, the broad shoulders, and that scent anywhere.
"Hi, welcome to Jacks Steakhouse. My name is Tyler, I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you started with anything to drink. Tea, perhaps a beer?" He recited the script, attempting to play it cool.
"Actually I'd like some juice I think." Clark said in his deep and thick Texas accent. "Last time I was here, you served me some juice from a particularly ripe and plump peach I think. It was amazing. I'd like some more." He grinned wickedly; innuendo heavy in his tone. He was referring to the bathroom of the Funny
Bar
where he'd fingered him and sucked his fingers afterwards.
"Sorry, we're fresh out." Tyler responded as professional as possible.
"A shame."
"I'm sure." Tyler cleared his throat and straightened his back. "So what can I get for you sir."
"I like when you call me that, but I didn't come here for food." Tyler almost cringed at that winning line.
"Then why are you here?" He asked, though he had an inkling. It was a tad creepy; Clark had followed him to the comedy club, into the bathroom and was now back here. It had been almost a week since their encounter. If Clark wasn't so handsome (and such a good tipper), Tyler would taze him and call the cops.
"You never called me." Clark pulled out his phone. "I want your number."
"I have a boyfriend." Tyler lied.
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"Oh, so then you're lying in all of your sets." Clark leaned back and crossed his arms over his big, broad, tantalizing chest. Clark wasn't in a suit today. He wore a tight, form fitting blue t-shirt and black jeans. Tyler was so horny, he couldn't help but picture Clark naked, remembering the weight and girth of his cock. "I looked you up online, found some of your videos on your socials. Like I told you, you're fucking hilarious."
"Thanks." Tyler said slowly.
"So the boyfriend is either new, or you just don't wanna give me your number." Clark turned on his charm, flashing that grin and letting his eyes twinkle at Tyler.
"You know, I think I finally understand the whole 'men just can't take no for an answer' thing women are always talking about."
