For the first time since he got out Neville was excited for the weekend. It had been a week full of 12 hour days and sore muscle with Tyler cracking the whip on the crew to get their latest contract done in time. The homeowners kept changing their minds and Tyler wanted to get it done before they added anything to the to-do list. Neville had been pulling double duty, doing drywall and painting, staying later than all the other guys to help Tyler get it done. To show his gratitude he gave Neville the company credit card and told him to take the boys out for a night of good times. They all decided to meet up Friday after work at a local sports bar to celebrate their job well done. Seeing him finally going out for something other than necessities Gianni couldn't help ask if he could tag along and Neville didn't refuse his buddy under one condition, he had to be the designated driver.
"Damn gonna make me sober bitch," He pouted from Neville's doorway as he coifed his hair. He wore a simple white undershirt and skinny jeans but Gianni could have made a burlap sack look high fashion with his limited edition hipster sneakers and diamond studs. "Guess it's better if I'm gonna play wingman." Neville made a face at him from the mirror as he buttoned his robin's egg blue linen shirt. Gianni came up behind him and started to undo them. "Leave it open. You're not going on a job interview." Then he squatted down to adjust the cuff on Neville's dark denim jeans. He dusted off his shoulders as he stood. "Flyness," he said with a whistle and Neville laughed.
"I'm aight I guess."
"Yeah when we ditch the straights I'll show you just how much an understatement that is."
A few spritzes of cologne later the two set out to The End Zone. They had to take Tyler's pick up after they both surmised that Neville wouldn't fit in Gianni's little Euro hybrid. They laughed about that most of the ride into town, amongst other things. There was an easiness that came to their communication that he hadn't experienced in a long time and Neville was beginning to cherish it. Of course there was the occasional flirtatious comment or touch but gone was the awkwardness that came with putting on airs for one you might want to bed. They were comfortably in the friend zone and it felt to Neville that he wasn't the only one who appreciated it. They got there a little early figuring they could get a bite to eat while they waited for the rest of the guys. Gianni put their names on the game tables list and they found a few tables close by that they could slide together when the guys arrived.
It was almost nine by the time they showed up. The Dempsey cousins were the first to make an appearance. TimTom and Jared were both electricians, single and in their mid thirties. They lived at home with Jared's mom and the crew joked that they still had a midnight curfew. Neville thought that might be the case since it was clear that Mother Dempsey packed their lunches every morning with wax paper wrapped sandwiches and homemade cookies. They were a little strange, but then again so were most of the other guys.
There was RJ, Raul Jimenez, an ex vato whose torso full of tattoos told a better story of his background than he did himself. Fortyish and stoic, he was a man of few words but he worked like a horse and was probably a better carpenter than Tyler even though he was a plumber by trade. They'd taken bets to see if he showed, Neville was the only one who didn't doubt he would and was paid handsomely for it. Then there was Leif Langley but everybody called him Thor on account of his blonde hair, blue eyes, juicehead physique and the way he swung a hammer. He was hired as a carpenter but he did a better job knocking things down than putting them together. On his first job with them, Neville watched him gut an entire 2500 sq. ft. ranch house alone in one eight hour shift. He was the only one on the crew married with children, he also had a couple girlfriends and supposedly another wife overseas. Last there was the only other queer on the crew, Colin O'Keefe, though he wasn't open about it. Neville only knew because he'd quietly offered his pig services on more than one occasion, to the rest of the guys he was just an almost thirty frat boy who drank his way out of college and into the construction business. He was the last to show and found every way to be near Neville. Even despite his puppy dog syndrome Neville had always found him easy to work with and quick with a joke.
After a few pitchers of beer and twice as many rounds of shots the bar had filled up and the guys had made their way to the games. Gianni entertained himself making ambiguous passes at people nearby. Neville marveled at his ability to entrance men and women alike with his light eyes and angled jaw. He could only shake his head as one woman followed him into the bathroom only to come out with smudged lipstick and messed hair. Neville shook his head as Gianni came back to their party at the pool table.
"Don't worry big fella," he whispered. "We'll get you some later."
"I'm sure I could get some now," Neville slurred and made a not so covert motion at Colin who just happened to be staring at Leif's ass as he took his shot. "Just don't know how deep into filth he is. Wouldn't want to drop the hammer in somebody's toilet."
Gianni almost choked on his soda at that. "So the big fella might want a little strange tonight?"
Neville shrugged his shoulders and finished his drink, conveniently called away for his turn on the darts. He laughed when he got to the list and saw Gianni would be his opponent, turned to tell him so but saw him at the bar talking to Colin. They caught eyes and Neville shook his head, but as he watched his wingman shoo the lanky ging in his direction, he figured why not dip his toe in just a little. He needed the practice, it was like being 13 again. It wasn't as if he were bad looking, in fact Neville might call him handsome tonight in his soccer jersey and straight cut jeans. His package tucked snuggly between his thighs. The darts were in a corner all by themselves and no one else played on the other three boards. They'd have to yell to be heard, so Neville figured why not tease him a little.
"That bitch punked out on me huh," he said to Colin as he came up to get his darts. Whether from drink or Neville's overt appraisal his cheeks were rosy under his full red beard, making the freckles on his nose almost invisible. He smirked a little as he lingered next to him, the hairs on their arms rubbing together. "I won't go easy on you red," he said as he turned to take his position. He meant the dart color but what the hell he thought. Neville reached to mess Colin's shaggy skater hair and said, "yeah that'll work."
"I'm sure I can take what you got," he said with a quick lick of his lips. Neville caught the way those green eyes flashed down to his crotch before Colin went to retrieve his beer. "After you, sir," he said with a bow for comic relief. Neville fought the urge to smack his ass and put all the pent up frustration into his first throw. It landed well off center, barely on the board stuck between 18 and 4. "Don't worry I won't hold misfires against you."
"What say we make this interesting," Neville said with a smirk, rolling a dart between his thick fingers. "Nothing monetary, a gentleman's bet maybe?" Colin laughed at that and shrugged his shoulders.
"We've met right? I mean I'm not so gentlemanly if you hadn't noticed but why not make a wager?"
Neville thought a moment, not wanting to make his intentions so obvious. Even if Colin would have done anything he asked, win or lose, he didn't want there to be any presumptions between them. Whether anything happened between them, he wanted to keep their working relationship as uncomplicated as possible. He settled on the most innocuous terms his beer muddled brain could think of, food.
"I win, lunch for a week and no cop out with store bought subs. I want homemade stuff. I seen the inside of that cooler Red. I know you know your way around a stove..."
"And if I win," Colin asked, his voice softened and his eyes roamed Neville's broad chest. He flicked his eyes up to meet Neville's, blushed when he realized he'd been caught.
"Name it," was his quick reply.
