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Getting to know Kai quickly becomes part of Toby’s routine, spending every Friday at Razzles chatting with the bartender whilst Lily gets free drinks from the poor fools who fall for her schmoozing.
They’ve made a game of it, coming up with quick-fire questions so they can learn things without Rhys screaming at Kai to get back to work—which still happens often. It’s as if they’re fighting some imaginary timer as they each rush to answer things that are barely finished being said. It’s fun.
Toby learns a lot about Kai, like that he has two jobs, that Rhys and him have been friends for as long as Toby and Lily have, that he is unfortunately—and endearingly—a fan of dad jokes, and that he’s an only child. In turn, Toby tells Kai that he’s a music student, that he works with Lily in a café, and that he doesn’t drink so he can drive her home.
It’s not an equal trade, what with Toby clamming up the moment he says too much, but Kai never makes him feel bad about it. Instead, he’s patient with Toby, always finding some way to keep the conversation moving, sometimes with a new question and sometimes by sharing more about his own life.
Something Toby finds out about himself is that he enjoys desecrating Razzles’ red napkins every chance he can. Those are Kai’s words, of course, because Toby doesn’t ever realise he’s tearing the poor paper to shreds until it’s already in pieces in his lap.
And he refuses to take any blame—Kai makes him weird!
He gets all fuzzy in ways he doesn’t normally with others when he’s around the pretty boy. Sure, Toby isn’t exactly an open book—he’s always struggled to talk to people even when he shared a class with them for years—but this is different. The way his pulse races and his face gets hot when Kai smiles at him a little too long isn’t the same way he reacts when he fucks up trying to make small talk.
Which no one should have to do, if you’re asking him. Small talk should be considered a torture method. Who the hell cares about the weather? No, he doesn’t want to know about your children and how they’re doing at primary school. Oh, you went to Bali over the holidays? Keep it to yourself!
Regardless, he finds out lots of things about Kai. He finds out things that make him forget he was ever suspicious of Lily’s intentions. Honestly, he’s starting to think maybe there’s a chance he and Kai could genuinely be friends. The kind that talk outside of Friday nights in-between pouring drinks.
That’s why he’s going to ask Kai if he wants to exchange numbers, so they can text each other—something he famously hates doing. Because he wants to be friends. It’s all he can think about as he and Lily sit at the bar, sipping on their respective drinks, talking about nothing.
“God, it’s really getting packed in here, isn’t it?” Lily mumbles as someone elbows her in an attempt to move past. Toby glares at the stranger’s back when they keep moving without so much as an apology. Rude.
She’s right, it’s barely nine, and yet the place is so busy Rhys has crawled out of what Toby assumes is the cave he dwells in to help out. The owner in question is making his way towards them with a similar expression to what Toby presumes coats his own features, something akin to disgust.
“Yo, if someone’s being a twat, ya can kick off. I ain’t gonna kick ya out,” he offers monotonously. “Ya want a refill?”
“Yes please,” Lily sighs, placing her chin in her palm, “but I’m not going to kick off in your bar.”
“I’m givin’ ya permission, ain’t I? Don’t let fuckers elbow ya like that,” Rhys grimaces, taking the empty glasses and grabbing a new pair, quickly getting to work on their replacement drinks.
During his now frequent visits to Razzles, Toby’s noticed Rhys is arguably better at the bartending thing than Kai is. Not that he thinks this to insult the pretty boy, it’s simply a fact. Rhys is quicker, his hands moving with a finesse that screams of years of practised skill unlike Kai who double checks every order he makes. Even so, Toby can’t help but wish it were Kai making his drink. There’s just something about watching him as he works, something that endlessly entertains Toby for some strange, unknown reason.
It’s weird. Kai makes him weird.
“Here ya go,” Rhys slides the drinks over the counter, waving off any attempts of payment. “Stop it, ya’ve got a fuckin’ tab, ya weirdo.”
“What? When—” Toby starts, awkwardly putting the note back.
“Yer boyfriend set it up for ya when ya started comin’ regularly,” Rhys rolls his eyes, as if he didn’t just stomp all over Toby’s heart.
“You’re dating Kai?” he squawks in Lily’s direction. This earth-shattering news feels like a betrayal. The reason his stomach sinks as if filled with lead is because Lily kept this information to herself, that’s what makes the most sense. But if that were the case, why is his brain screaming Kai should have told you he’s interested in Lily instead? Kai doesn’t owe him anything! Not the way Lily does—
Rhys laughs louder than Toby has ever heard him, slapping the bar with a large hand. Whenever the owner opens his mouth to speak, he starts cackling again, tears coming to his eyes. Which is fucking rude, if you’re asking Toby, because what the fuck is so funny? He hates this. He hates being the butt of the joke, he hates that he doesn’t know what the joke even is.
Because you’re the joke, his mind supplies, filling in the crater-sized gap where context should be.
“Can you shut up and tell me what is so funny?” Toby manages to grit out, jaw clenched shut as he fights his own mind for a rational explanation.
“Just ya bein’ the most oblivious person in the fuckin’ world, apparently,” Rhys sighs, shit-eating grin stretching his cheeks.
“One day I’m going to choke you,” Toby responds eloquently. Violence may be the only cure for whatever Rhys’ problem is.
“Don’t make promises that’ll make yer boyfriend jealous,” the bartender hums, obviously trying to stop himself from breaking into more laughter.
“Wait, my boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend!” This is ridiculous, what world is Rhys living in? Has he spent so much time in his cave that’s genuinely gone insane? And does that— Was he— Toby is the person Rhys was referring to before, the reason for the icky feeling weighing down Toby’s insides? How does that make any sense?!
“Rhys, I don’t think you should be talking about that,” Lily forces around an awkward smile, eyes wide. She knows something—they both know something and they’re leaving Toby out. Again.
This is why he doesn’t make friends, why he doesn’t trust people. He feels as small as the ripped up pieces of napkin laying in his lap, like he doesn’t matter enough to be trusted. Even when he’s trying his best to share parts of himself, it isn’t enough.
Lily can waltz into a bar on her own and make friends with the entire staff, can approach someone and charm their ear off enough to get free drinks and a night in their bed, but when Toby’s trying his best to bare his heart, he’s still stupid, little Toby who isn’t worth telling anything to? Because that’s how it feels.
“Vado a casa,” Toby says quietly enough for only Lily to hear, pooling the pieces of napkin up enough to place them on the bartop before he stands. Lily’s eyes widen, understanding enough Italian to know what Toby had said. He’s going home.
She gently grabs at his wrist in an attempt to stop him. “Tobes, wait, it isn’t what you think—”
“What am I supposed to think when you won’t tell me?” he responds, head down and gaze focused on the floor.
“Kai needs to be the one to tell you, okay? We aren’t trying to be mean,” she attempts to reassure him, but it’s no good. Kai would have told him by now if he had something important to say, and he doesn’t buy the not trying to be mean excuse when Rhys is making ridiculous comments with a laugh loud enough to fill the bar.
“Oi,” the bastard adds in, “she’s right. I wasn’t tryna upset ya. Sorry, dude.” If it were anyone else, Toby wouldn’t have paused long enough to hear the apology, but he doesn’t imagine Rhys is someone who says the word sorry often. Especially when Toby can hear how he tries to soften his voice to do so, sounding as sincere as someone with a perpetually grouchy demeanour can.
That’s the reason he sits back down slowly, meeting Rhys’ gaze to mumble a response. “Is it bad, whatever thing Kai has to tell me?”
“Depends if ya like him or not.”
Toby frowns, feeling something nasty start to gather in his lungs, thick like sludge. Why is that a question? Why would Rhys need to ask? “Why wouldn’t I like Kai?”
Rhys usually dead-eyed stare becomes thinner, somehow seeming more annoyed than usual. “Ya can’t be serious. Fuck that.”
“Fuck what?” Toby balks, hands curling into fists and squeezing until his nails bite stingingly into his palms. “I don’t know what you want from me!”
“Rhys.” Kai’s voice cuts through the noise of the bar, a tone so hard, Toby finds his breath catching. Honestly, he hates it. He doesn’t want to hear it again. It makes his chest squeeze, it reminds him of his mother. He— “Stop.”
Rhys turns towards Kai, the pair of them sharing a silent conversation that does little to ease the tension that manages to fill the small space the four of them share. Even when Rhys huffs and walks away, the feeling lingers. What Toby expects is for Kai to approach them, to make up some excuse for the stupid interaction that continues to make no sense to Toby, but…
He doesn’t. He gets back to work as if Toby isn’t there at all, as if he didn’t overhear their conversation.
“Are you okay?” Lily whispers, leaning into Toby’s space. He can’t quite find the words so he sticks to shaking his head, eyes trained on Kai as the man gets started on someone else’s order. Look at me, Toby urges, finding that awful sinking feeling from before has returned full force when his pleas are ignored. “Shall we go?” Lily asks and Toby manages to nod. “Okay, head out to the car and I’ll pay.”
He doesn’t question it, not until he’s safely in his own bed and staring at the ceiling. Everything from leaving the bar to getting to this point feels like an intangible blur. He’s not sure when he managed to shower, yet the slightly damp ends to his hair betray the idea that he simply got into bed without doing so. It’s like his brain had shut off so he could save energy for now, where his thoughts run rampant, one question after the other forcing themselves upon him until it feels like they take up space in the bed beside him, smothering him.
Why was Kai so upset at Rhys? What was Rhys trying to ask Toby to begin with? Why did Toby have to be made to feel like nothing for the sake of whatever secret Kai is keeping from him? Kai doesn’t seem like the type of person to hide something from—
Depends if ya like him or not echoes in Toby’s head. Hours of tossing and turning leave him with the same answer. Of course he likes Kai.