The Only Twenty-Four-Hour Bookstore in New York 2/6
J2 RPS AU
NC-17
Part 2 of 6
Master post
Art
A couple of months later he's sitting on the F train to Manhattan at a ridiculous hour of the night, reading The Big Sleep, which he borrowed from Alona. He's not that far along but he's liking it so far. Noir novels are so bleak, so cynical, but there's something about their harsh world view and their genre conventions and spare language that he enjoys. Maybe it's because his own life is so different, so it's as if he can peek into another world and appreciate how well it's put together without having to relate to it or to see himself in the protagonist.
He tells Jared as much when he gets to The Moose and Mayhem, because Jared notices that he's carrying a book! He must be reading for fun! On the train!
"You say that like I haven't been doing it since January," Jensen says, feigning annoyance. Jared just grins. "You're a good influence."
"I try. How's the bar?"
"Busy. We're putting in a new kitchen, but construction won't start for a few weeks. You should see all the research Chris is doing for the menu. I keep telling him it's just dinner, he doesn't have to visit every single speakeasy and gastropub and bar-that-serves-food in Brooklyn, and he just tells me to shut up." He shrugs. "There's a great barbecue place down the street from us, so at least he knows not to copy them. We've still been three times for 'research'. I think he likes doing it, to be honest. He gets to talk to food professionals about food. I can't do that and I don't really want to."
"How long until you can open for dinner?" Jared walks out from behind the counter and heads for the mystery/suspense/horror novels, beckoning for Jensen to follow.
"Not for a month or two. We've started to put the word out, though, like advance warning. Early press."
"I saw. I'm following you on Facebook now." Jared starts going through the section, rearranging the books and putting them back in order. "I don't know what happened here, but this section is a total mess."
"You're following the bar on Facebook?"
"Yeah. Why not? You follow us." He squints at the row of Ks, then pulls out a copy of Stephen King's On Writing. "What's this doing here?" It's clearly a rhetorical question, because he sticks it under his arm and keeps going down the shelves.
"Well," Jensen says, grinning, "you know, I need recommendations for things to read while I'm sitting on the train at really late hours."
Jared chuckles. "If you want more noir suggestions, I should send you to AJ, although he's more of a horror guy. It's not really my thing. I know, I know, I sell books for a living and don't like everything."
"I don't like vodka drinks," Jensen offers. "Tom had a bad tequila experience in college and doesn't drink it any more. Danneel doesn't really like beer."
"She works in a bar and she doesn't like beer?" Jared turns away from the shelves and stares at Jensen in disbelief.
"Weird, right? When we bring in something new she'll try it, just so she knows what to tell customers, but if she has a choice she's rather have a mixed drink. Or a Maker's Mark, straight up."
Which makes sense. They're a bourbon bar, after all.
"Huh," Jared says, going back to his rearranging.
Jensen watches him fix the shelves, thinking idly about how nice it is to just be able to stand next to someone and watch them work in companionable silence. Two Brothers is never really quiet. Even when he's there by himself, he has the radio or the jukebox on. The Moose and Mayhem is calm and quiet at nearly four in the morning, and he can really appreciate that.
And it's very pleasant to be in the same space as Jared and not have to talk. Jensen spends his days and nights talking to people, a lot of them strangers, and sometimes he just wants to hang out with someone and not feel like either of them needs to speak.
"What are you thinking?" Jared asks, finally reaching the end of the section and moving away to reshelve On Writing.
"Just that it's quiet in here and I like it," Jensen says. "I talk to people all night. I love my job - you might have to remind me of that once the kitchen's in - but being around people all the time can be exhausting."
"I like being around people. It's always weird when the college kids go home for break, because I'm so used to them coming in at night. During the summer I get kids who are here for summer session, though, so that's okay. But spring break is kinda quiet. That was last week. They're back now."
"I could really get into doing your job."
"You wanna trade?" Jared finds a spot for On Writing and slides it onto the shelf, then turns and grins at Jensen.
Jesus Christ, he's cute, Jensen thinks, sudden and incongruous. Not that it's a thought he hasn't had before. Repeatedly. One of the reasons he keeps coming back here, even though he's always tired and knows he should go home instead, is because he really likes Jared's face. And Jared's shoulders, which are right now pulling his shirt as he stretches. And Jared's long legs. And Jared's hands.
"Maybe not," Jared says now, answering his own question as he heads back towards the counter. "I don't know anything about mixing drinks."
"And I don't know anything about selling books. I'd still have to talk to people, if I had your job."
"Yeah, you would." Jared leans against the counter, still grinning.
"You should come to the bar sometime," Jensen blurts out. "Let me make you something. I'm always coming here. You should come to me."
"I don't know if I have time. No one else can come in late, that's why I do it."
"You don't have to come at night. Just think about it."
"Okay." It might be Jensen's imagination, but it seems to him as if Jared's grin changes slightly, from something open and cheerful and a little teasing to something more contemplative and even bashful.
Jensen doesn't want to examine it too closely, but it feels like a private moment they're sharing. Then he yawns, changing the atmosphere yet again.
"I should probably go home," he says, stifling another yawn. "I didn't realize I was this tired."
"Not a bad idea. I don't think you want to sleep on my floor."
"Not really, no." Jensen holds up Alona's copy of The Big Sleep. "At least I have something to entertain me on the subway, so I don't nod off on the way home."
"Chandler's good for that."
"I'll talk to you later. I'll tell Chris you're stalking us on Facebook." Now it's his turn to grin, and Jared laughs.
"Oh, like you're not stalking us back. Go home. Go to bed." He waves Jensen out.
Jensen doesn't fall asleep on the train, but he can't make himself read either. But he's thinking about Jared, who's more interesting than Raymond Chandler anyway.
The advent of spring seems to bring out the social in people, Jared thinks, maneuvering Sadie around all the Greenwich Village residents and occasional students and the odd tourist clogging the sidewalk between his apartment and the dog run in Union Square Park. Everyone seems to want to say hi to his dog. Not that he minds, but the dog run isn't around the corner and at some point he'd like to actually get there so he can turn her loose and chat with his dog run friends.
It's a nice day and feels like Sunday, only because the crowds of people make him think everyone is out going to brunch at the same time. The dog run thankfully has the same small group of people who are always there on weekday mornings, and Jared waves to the dog owners he recognizes before taking off Sadie's leash and finding Mark and David sitting on a bench. Mark plays french horn for the Metropolitan Opera orchestra, and David is essentially a professional nerd, making YouTube videos, doing podcasts, and writing critical blog posts about things of nerdy-geeky interest. Jared has tried to watch some of the videos, but the podcasts are much easier to listen to. He'd never say so, but the podcasts make great background noise - he can listen with one ear and do a bunch of other things at the same time. He doesn't have to really pay attention.
Jared notes that Mars the Wonder Mutt, David's dog, has discovered Sadie's arrival by the simple fact of her starting to chase him around the dog run. Disraeli and Chamberlain, Mark's spoiled pugs, are lying on the ground in front of the bench, snuffling and snorting and looking very content.
"Moose!" David calls in greeting. The pugs perk up. Mark waves. Jared spares Sadie and the Wonder Mutt a glance, but they're still playing and not fighting yet, so he nudges David so he can sit at the end of the bench. "The next podcast is about Iain Banks. You should listen."
"I'll check it out," Jared says. One of the pugs heaves herself to her feet and waddles over to Jared so he can scratch her head. They look so much alike he can only tell them apart by their collars. He has no idea why Mark's pugs have recognizably-male names if they're both female, but he's never asked. Mark himself is looking through a sheaf of sheet music and Jared leans around David just enough to try and get a better look at it.
"New score," Mark says, noticing Jared's nosiness.
"He's very bad company," David adds, pretending to be annoyed. Mark rolls his eyes. "Not at all interested in my Minecraft woes."
"Your kid's better at it than you are, isn't he," Jared comments. It's not really a question. David slaps his hand over his heart in mock offense.
"You wound me!"
"He won't shut up about it," Mark says, his eyes back on his sheet music.
"What are you doing next?" Jared asks him, and Mark holds up the music so Jared can see the cover. Tannhauser. That means nothing to Jared, whose knowledge of opera starts and ends with "fat ladies in horned helmets, plus Pavarotti", because everyone knows who Luciano Pavarotti is. There are little stickers on the sheet music, gold stars and musical notes and a little snail. "Why is it covered with stickers?"
Mark flips the sheet music around so he can see the cover. "My son did that. He thinks sheet music is boring."
"It is," David whispers to Jared.
"I heard that."
"How's the book business?"
"Good," Jared says. "Busy. If you're going to talk about authors in your podcast, you could give us a shout-out."
"I could do that."
"We could work out a discount - 'Mention that you heard about us in David's geeky podcast and get 10% off'." He considers. "Are there nerdy numbers besides forty-two? Because I can't give people that kind of discount."
"You know the podcast is worldwide, don't you?" Mark says. Jared hadn't thought he was listening, and doesn't bother to answer. The Moose and Mayhem will ship pretty much anywhere, anyway.
"I'll use a secret code," David says, rubbing his hands together as he thinks. "Something only my nerds would know to say to you."
"If you call my store a wretched hive of scum and villainy I'm not giving anyone a discount."
"I would never."
"You would," Mark says. "He keeps asking me how things are in Mos Eisley," he tells Jared. "And then I tell him that Greedo shot first." He grins.
"And then someone has to separate us," David adds, grinning as well. "We confuse the dogs."
Chamberlain makes her opinion of this whole conversation clear by sitting on David's feet. Mark chuckles.
"Can I ask you guys something?" Jared says. Mark puts down his sheet music and both he and David look at Jared expectantly. "If there's someone you think you're interested in, but you don't know if they're interested in you - but you think they are - how do you find out?"
"I kissed Jane," David answers. "I knew she liked me because she didn't slap me."
"You could ask the person," Mark suggests. "If that's too forward, you could ask one of their friends."
"Are you hot for one of your customers?"
"No," Jared says. "Well, not really. I mean, he's bought some stuff, but he's not a regular. He owns the bar where my friend's girlfriend works. He comes by sometimes late at night, after the bar closes. I don't know where he lives."
"Where's the bar?" Mark asks.
"Red Hook."
"Isn't that in Brooklyn?" David asks. He tries to nudge Chamberlain off his foot, but she doesn't move.
"He comes all the way out here after work," Mark continues, "which is, what, three in the morning? Four? He could go home and sleep, and you're not sure he's interested in you?"
"Yeah."
Mark raises an eyebrow.
"Have you been to his bar?" David asks.
"Once, but that was before we knew each other. I haven't really had time to go back. By the time they're open, I should be working. Besides, it's in Brooklyn. The one time I went, there were four of us and we took a cab."
"Bars are open by five," Mark says. "You should go. Get a soda. Say hello."
"Ask your friend to ask his girlfriend," David says.
"Her girlfriend," Jared corrects him. "I guess I could." Although to be honest, he's not sure he wants to involve the whole store in his potential love life. He's sure Genevieve knows that Jensen's been showing up at the store to chat, just because he's sure her girlfriend Danneel knows, but it seems a little too high school to ask Genevieve to ask Danneel to ask Jensen how he feels about Jared. He's an adult, he should be able to figure this out by himself.
He knew that Milo, his ex, was interested in him because Milo asked him out. But Jensen only comes to the bookstore in the wee hours and talks to him, and occasionally emails him something funny or tells him about what's going on at the bar. And that could be Jensen expressing a romantic interest, or it could be Jensen expressing a friendship interest. Jared's gaydar has never been particularly sensitive, and he's not used to waiting this long for someone to either put the moves on him or make it explicitly clear that they want him to do it.
He's pretty sure he's interested in Jensen, though. They need to hang out somewhere that isn't The Moose and Mayhem in the middle of the night, so he can know. Or he can do what David did to the woman who's now his wife, and kiss Jensen and hope he doesn't get slapped.
"Thanks," he says. "I guess."
"Are you going to kiss him?" David asks hopefully.
"Not yet. I don't want to freak him out."
Mark makes a noncommittal noise.
"You think he's into me?" Jared asks him.
"I think he's doing a good impression of it, if he's not," Mark answers.
"I'm bad at this," Jared admits. "Usually if a guy's going to hit on me, he doesn't wait a couple of months."
"Why aren't you doing the hitting?" David asks, then shakes his head at himself. "That doesn't sound right."
"I know what you mean. I don't know."
"Maybe you should try that."
"Maybe." Sadie seems to have tired Mars out, because he ambles over and plops down on the ground in front of the guys. Mark's pugs snort at him. He looks put-upon.
"I should take the Wonder Mutt home," David says, leaning over to put Mars' leash on and then standing up, finally dislodging Chamberlain off his feet. "You should kiss this guy."
"Thanks for the advice," Jared says dryly. "What if he's not into me and I scare him off?"
"You won't. Come on, mutt, we got pods to cast." Mars heaves himself up, and he and David head out of the dog run.
"He's going way out of his way to see you," Mark reminds Jared. "He sounds like he's interested. Are you?"
"I think so."
"You think so?"
"I don't know if I have time for a boyfriend. I don't even have time to go by his bar and say hello."
"If I have time to spend on the lady in my life? You do too. Don't think about it for too long." Mark folds up his sheet music and stands and stretches. "Work calls." He nudges his pugs to their feet, clips their leashes on, and leads them away. And Jared sits on the bench and wishes he remembered to bring a ball to throw for Sadie. She's exploring the dog run and the two remaining dogs - an exceptionally shaggy Samoyed and a greyhound in a pink coat - and he wants her to get more exercise before they go back to the store. He finds a stick and throws that to her for a little bit, thinking about Jensen and The Moose and Mayhem and when he might find time to make the trip out to Jensen's bar.
He continues to think about how he might find out if Jensen would be receptive to him until he and Sadie return to the bookstore, at which point he realizes he should be thinking about work. He props the door open because it's nice outside, and he wants to encourage people to come in. Through the open door he can hear the unmistakable voice of a mother at the end of her rope - "Philippe!" - which is followed thirty seconds later by a small boy wearing an unzipped Captain America hoodie who runs giggling into the store and vanishes in the back. He's trailed by a pretty but also pretty harried-looking woman who must be his mother, judging by her half-apologetic, half-pleading face. Jared points to the back of the store and she disappears as well. Sadie follows them, clearly interested. Two minutes later they're all back, with Philippe - still giggling - slung over his mom's shoulder.
"Thank you," she tells Jared as she heads out the door. He grabs for Sadie, who tries to follow. "I'm just going to turn you loose in the dog park," she tells her kid, and then they're outside the store and off down the sidewalk and out of hearing. Jared imagines one energetic small child trying to engage Mark's lazy pugs, and smiles to himself. Mars the Wonder Mutt would probably be better company.
The dog theme continues not half an hour later, when an elderly gentleman in a brown leather jacket and a flat cap comes in, sees Sadie, and bends down to pet her.
"Are you the Moose or Mayhem?" he asks.
"I'm the Moose," Jared says. "She's Sadie."
"How old is she?"
"Eight? I'm not really sure. She's a rescue and they didn't know how old she was."
They chat about dogs in general and Sadie in particular for a few minutes, until the phone rings and Jared has to answer it, freeing the elderly gentleman to wander over to the history section. He's eventually joined by an older woman in a red coat who must be his wife, and they leave with a travel book on Prague and a history called More Powerful Than Dynamite, which Jared has actually read and can recommend from experience. Both of them stop to pet Sadie on the way out the door, much to her delight.
The rest of the day passes as they normally do - customers to help and orders to take care of and employees' hours to verify and shelves to straighten and a book signing to arrange and invoices to pay. He and Chad should probably sit down and have a conversation about money. He eats dinner and walks Sadie before taking her up to the apartment, and then it's late at night and all that's left is to run a broom around the store because for some reason people were tracking in crap on their shoes all day.
Charles the jazz musician drops by a little before four, as he does at least once a week. He keeps a nocturnal schedule, and he reads a lot. Every so often he'll bring in a bunch of used books to sell for store credit, just to clear off his shelves for new ones. He takes good care of his books and Jared is happy to buy them.
"I'm playing a gig in Astoria next week," he tells Jared, after paying for a Robert Jackson Bennett paperback. "Can I leave a flyer?"
"Sure," Jared says. There's a noticeboard by the counter, where people can post flyers for various events and things of general neighborhood interest. Jared pins Charles' flyer over an old notice for yoga classes. He can't go to the show, but AJ lives in Astoria and might be interested.
Not long after Charles leaves, another couple of guys come in - one with brown hair and a green jacket, and his friend, who's shorter and blond and practically drowning in a Cooper Union hoodie.
"Did you really drag me across the river to a bookstore?" the blond guy asks, as they come to a stop by the table set up with this month's suggested reading.
"Yes," his friend says.
"Why?"
"Because bookstores are really soothing to me. And I thought you'd be too cold on the ferry."
The blond guy shrugs, says "I have a hood," and wanders off towards the art and architecture books. His friend follows before Jared has a chance to offer to help them find something.
They don't buy anything, and aside from a very strange phone call that turns out to be a very wrong number, the store is dead until Anton shows up at five and Jared can go upstairs and to bed.
The next night sees a few college students coming in twos and threes, a high schooler in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms who admits she had to sneak out of her parents' apartment but she just finished Code Name: Verity and needs the next book, a pair of girls who seem to be on a date, and a punk guy in the requisite black stovepipe jeans and Doc Martens and a jean jacket covered with studs and patches and paint. There's a blue star tattooed on the back of his hand, which Jared notices when the guy pulls off his glove so he can count his money. He buys two art books - Robert Mapplethorpe Polaroids (used) and 1940s pin-up girls (new) - and much to Jared's surprise, he pays in cash.
The Sams come in not long after the punk with the art books leaves. Blonde Sam explains that they've been sent on a coffee-and-snack run because it's very quiet at the hospital, to which Brunette Sam makes the sign of the cross with her index fingers and hisses "You said the Q word! Never say the Q word!"
"Quiet?" Jared asks.
"Shh!"
"Sorry," Blonde Sam apologizes sheepishly. "Things are calm. We're taking a break." She glances around the store. "This place looks so clean!"
"I swept," Jared says.
"Do you do houses?" Brunette Sam asks.
"Just mine."
Blonde Sam goes off to look at the craft books, and Jared asks Brunette Sam "How do you know if a guy is interested in you?"
"Usually he asks me out," she says. "Why? Do you need a date?" She grins.
"There's a guy who comes in sometimes really late at night, and I think I'm interested in him, and I think he's interested in me, but he hasn't done anything, so I'm not sure. One of my friends says I should kiss him if I really want to know, but I don't want to wig him out. He works in Brooklyn. I'm really out of his way. But he hasn't made a move yet."
"Is he even gay?"
Jared tries to remember if Jensen has ever said anything about an ex, or if Genevieve has ever said anything about him, and he's pretty sure that... yeah, Jensen did mention an ex-boyfriend once, when they were talking about working nights and how hard it was sometimes to see your friends who had 9-5 jobs. "Yeah, he is, he told me about his ex-boyfriend."
"Maybe you should try asking him out."
"I don't know if I have time for a boyfriend. Or if he does."
"Then why are you thinking about him? And if he doesn't have time, why does he keep coming to see you?"
Blonde Sam comes back to the front of the bookstore and Brunette Sam asks her how she knows when someone is interested in her.
"If they ask me on a date, that's usually a pretty big clue," she says, then holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers so Jared and the other Sam can see her wedding ring. "But they usually don't."
"Jared wants to ask a boy out," Brunette Sam explains, "but can't tell how it would be received. I suggested he do the asking."
Both Sams look at Jared expectantly.
"What?" he says. "You both think I should ask him out? What if he says no?"
"What are the chances?" Brunette Sam asks.
"He hasn't made a move yet. If he's so interested in me, why hasn't he done anything about it?"
"This guy comes from Brooklyn to see Jared," Brunette Sam explains to Blonde Sam. "That's his move," she tells Jared. "Now it's your turn."
Jared remembers what Mark said, that Jensen is making a point to come out of his way late at night when he's tired and no doubt wants to go home. As someone who really enjoys his sleep, as little of it as he gets, Jared can see how putting off one's warm bed to chat with someone might indicate the opening move towards a future relationship. So Brunette Sam is right, and it's Jared's turn to do something.
He just has to find a time and place, and figure out what exactly his move is going to be.
He shares this with the Sams, who seem satisfied, and he tells them to wave hello to all the newborns for him when they get back to the hospital.
Two afternoons later he sucks up his courage, leaves Sadie with Kim at the store, and takes Mark's advice to go to Two Brothers Bar to visit Jensen in his place of work for once. Jensen did tell him to come by, after all.
"Jared!" Danneel calls from behind the bar. "What are you doing here?"
"Is, uh, is Jensen here?" he asks.
"No. It's his day off." She smiles brightly. "Gen owes me ten bucks."
"Why?"
"I bet her you'd have to ask Jensen out first." Danneel looks unreasonably pleased with herself. Jared doesn't mind that Genevieve is discussing his lack of love life with her girlfriend.
"I didn't come to ask him anything."
"Uh-huh. You want a drink while you're here? The kitchen's not done yet, but the bar's open." She waves in the general direction of the end of the bar, where if Jared looks around the counter he can see a hole in the wall covered by two thick plastic sheets.
"No, I'm gonna go back to the store."
"Soda?" Jared shakes his head and she shrugs. "Do you want me to tell him you were here?"
"No. Wait. Yeah. Tell him I came to say hi."
"Just hi?"
"Just hi."
"That's boring. When the kitchen's done you'll have to come back and have dinner. Chris is so proud of his menu." She rolls her eyes in a way that makes Jared think she's tired of hearing about it. "If you're awake before two, you can come for brunch."
"I might. I should go. Tell Gen I said hi."
Well, that was a bust, he thinks as he waits for the bus back to the subway station. But at least he tried. And he can always come back. And Danneel will tell Jensen he came by, which is almost as good as Jensen actually being here to see him.
The bar is driving Jensen nuts. There's the kitchen renovation, which is taking longer than expected thanks to the building's idiosyncratic plumbing and some DIY electrical work that the next-door tenants did about ten years ago. There are the various incarnations of the menu, which Chris revises every few days or so, plus his attempts to make everything himself to try it out on the bar's unwitting staff and customers. "Why have a captive audience," he says, "if you're not going to take advantage of it?" They haven't found a cook yet, although not for lack of trying, and no one is sure about what other staff they might need to hire. Danneel thinks they're going to need at least one dedicated server, but Jensen and Chris both suspect that she just doesn't want to have to do it on top of her normal bartender duties.
At least they've been able to buy a lot of equipment off Eric, who as it turns out isn't closing Audrey's so much as merging it with an existing bakery that one of his friends owns in Queens. The bar already has a supplier for things like glassware and dishes and paper goods, although Chris and Jensen are still looking for a reasonable supplier for fresh produce and meat and dairy. They want to buy as local as possible and they don't want to cut corners, but they don't have a big budget.
As if that wasn't enough to think about, suddenly Two Brothers is crammed with people on line-dance nights, so much so that Jensen and Chris have made it once a week, rather than twice a month. It was always something they offered as kind of a joke and a nostalgic throwback to bars Chris remembered from his youth - and because it fit the bar's general honky-tonk, country-western ambience, and it was fun - but even though they got enough of a crowd to make it worthwhile, line-dancing was never the bar's biggest draw.
Now all of a sudden people are showing up every week to line up and kick their heels around the tiny dance floor in front of the stage. Jensen knows he shouldn't complain, because business is business and folks who come for the dancing pay good money for their drinks, but he doesn't understand it at all. He keeps up with industry trends, and he hasn't read or seen or heard anything about a resurgence in interest for country-bar line-dancing in New York.
"Ironic hipsters," Tom mutters one night, his voice low enough that no one on the other side of the bar can hear him, but Jensen can.
"Ironic hipsters with money," Jensen adds. "How's the tap?" It wasn't working right last night, and Chris and Jensen spent most of the morning and half the afternoon trying to figure out what was wrong. The last thing they need is for one of the taps to give out.
"So far so good." Tom pulls on it, gets half a glass of foam, dumps it, and tries again. This time it works. Jensen glances up and notes the crowd of people pressed against the counter, either chatting with each other or trying to get his attention. At least he and Tom haven't had to break up any fights. If nothing else, this new crowd seems pretty well-behaved.
He can hear the music over the crowd, and Chris' friend Steve calling out what sound suspiciously like square-dance steps. He chuckles to himself. Way to confuse the hipsters, Steve.
Tom scoots down the bar to deliver his beers and Jensen takes his place at the taps. He pours three pints, a Pappy Van Winkle on the rocks, and a Coke with three cherries, and leans over the counter to better hear the next order, only to discover Felicia from the Ginger Girls' Club yelling "Where did all these people come from??" near his face.
"It's not your night," he yells back, which is a stupid response but the only thing he can think of.
"Julie wanted to line-dance. I told her it was never this crowded!"
"Surprise! What can I get you?"
"Red Stripe, Red Stripe, Hendricks martini! Shaken, like Bond. I know it's not red, you don't have to tell me." Jensen leans away from the bar enough to see her grin.
"Soon we'll have a kitchen," he says, "and you can get red meat and red potatoes and probably red velvet cake," and then he goes off to get her beers and to make the martini.
For the first few months after Two Brothers opened, people would order martinis and be surprised as hell when they were served classic martinis, made with gin and vermouth and garnished with a stuffed olive. Jensen and Chris both resent the way "martini" turned into shorthand for "vodka cocktail in a martini glass", and eventually had to put it on the little drinks menus and the web site that if you order a martini, no qualifier, you're going to get gin and vermouth, and if you want it made with vodka, you need to say so.
Fortunately for Chris and Jensen - although maybe not so much for people who like vodka cocktails served in martini glasses - the fad seems to be fading, giving over to a new trend towards dark-liquor drinks. And if you want a craft cocktail made with bourbon or whiskey or rye, Two Brothers is your place.
Danneel squeezes behind Jensen as he's shaking Felicia's martini, her hands full of dirty glasses. "You can't even breathe on the floor," she says. "I can't get over this. Where did these people come from? They're not even all good tippers."
"Tom told Mike, Mike told everyone?" Jensen suggests. Tom's roommate seems to know fully half the residents of the five boroughs, plus huge chunks of western Long Island, all of Westchester County, and north New Jersey.
Danneel shrugs and keeps moving. As she edges behind Tom, Jensen can see her pause to ask him something. Tom shakes his head and Danneel goes on to the kitchen.
It's a crowded but good night, business-wise, even if no one has the energy to clean up after the bar closes. Steve complains that someone kept making requests - "It would've been okay if they were asking for bands I'd ever heard of," he grumps - and Danneel bitches that she had her ass slapped three times.
"Why didn't you say something?" Jensen demands. One of the house rules is that you don't touch the bartenders. The house rules are hanging on the wall and written on the chalkboard behind the bar, so there's no excuse for not having seen them.
"I grabbed the last guy's hand and yelled 'Did anyone lose a hand? Because I found this one on my ass,'" she explains. "He was suitably embarrassed."
"Well, if it happens again, tell me or Chris and we'll have a word."
"I would've smacked him for you," Tom adds. "Alona would have too, if she was here."
"I can smack my own rude customers, thank you," Danneel says. "It's just been so long since someone played grab-ass that I was surprised. The first time I was trying to get past the line-dancers and I thought it was an accident."
"Could've been," Steve comments. "There were a lot of uncoordinated people out there."
"A lot of drunk uncoordinated people."
"Good for business," Jensen reminds them. "At least there's that."
They wipe down the tables and the bar counter and put away the cocktail garnishes and pick up the rest of the dirty glasses and turn over the chairs on top of the tables and sweep the floor and wipe off the booths. Jensen divides up the tips.
"Tell Chris he needs to run the music next time," Steve says to Jensen as he heads for his car. "He's got more patience. Although I gotta say, getting to call square dance changes was fun."
"You didn't scare everyone away," Jensen says. "That's something. Drive safe."
"See you later."
Jensen seriously considers going out to The Moose and Mayhem to see Jared, mostly because Jared dropped by the bar a couple of days ago when he wasn't there, but he's so tired he can't think. The apartment is dark and Chris is fast asleep by the time Jensen gets home, which isn't surprising, and the kitchen is full of dirty dishes, which is. There's a Post-It stuck to the door of Jensen's bedroom, telling him the darkroom out in Queens is booked tomorrow. This is frustrating, because he was looking forward to some private time with 35mm film negatives and paper and chemicals and no people.
As he's falling asleep he has an idea what he can do with his day instead. He'll call Jared. They should spend time together that isn't just late at night at Jared's bookstore. He knows they're both busy, but he's ready to commit to someone again, and from what Danneel has told him - and from what her girlfriend has told her - he's pretty sure Jared's ready too. One of them just has to make the first move, and it may as well be Jensen.
Sort of.
"Are you asking me out?" Jared says, when Jensen calls The Moose and Mayhem and asks for him. He and Chris are sitting in the bar about to have a meeting, and Chris insisted Jensen get this out of the way first. Jensen is pretty sure Chris just wants to be able to eavesdrop on the conversation.
"I guess so," Jensen says. "I know you'll have to get back to your store, and I have a lot of stuff to do - I should be doing some of it now, actually - but I thought if you had a couple of free hours...."
"I can make some time. Should I meet you at the bar?"
"Do you want to see the construction?"
"Yeah."
"Really? If Chris is around he'll give you a tour and talk your ear off about his food plans."
"That's okay. I like to eat."
Jensen can almost hear Jared's grin through the phone. "All righty, then. Two Brothers, five o'clock. See you then."
Onward!
NC-17
Part 2 of 6
Master post
Art
A couple of months later he's sitting on the F train to Manhattan at a ridiculous hour of the night, reading The Big Sleep, which he borrowed from Alona. He's not that far along but he's liking it so far. Noir novels are so bleak, so cynical, but there's something about their harsh world view and their genre conventions and spare language that he enjoys. Maybe it's because his own life is so different, so it's as if he can peek into another world and appreciate how well it's put together without having to relate to it or to see himself in the protagonist.
He tells Jared as much when he gets to The Moose and Mayhem, because Jared notices that he's carrying a book! He must be reading for fun! On the train!
"You say that like I haven't been doing it since January," Jensen says, feigning annoyance. Jared just grins. "You're a good influence."
"I try. How's the bar?"
"Busy. We're putting in a new kitchen, but construction won't start for a few weeks. You should see all the research Chris is doing for the menu. I keep telling him it's just dinner, he doesn't have to visit every single speakeasy and gastropub and bar-that-serves-food in Brooklyn, and he just tells me to shut up." He shrugs. "There's a great barbecue place down the street from us, so at least he knows not to copy them. We've still been three times for 'research'. I think he likes doing it, to be honest. He gets to talk to food professionals about food. I can't do that and I don't really want to."
"How long until you can open for dinner?" Jared walks out from behind the counter and heads for the mystery/suspense/horror novels, beckoning for Jensen to follow.
"Not for a month or two. We've started to put the word out, though, like advance warning. Early press."
"I saw. I'm following you on Facebook now." Jared starts going through the section, rearranging the books and putting them back in order. "I don't know what happened here, but this section is a total mess."
"You're following the bar on Facebook?"
"Yeah. Why not? You follow us." He squints at the row of Ks, then pulls out a copy of Stephen King's On Writing. "What's this doing here?" It's clearly a rhetorical question, because he sticks it under his arm and keeps going down the shelves.
"Well," Jensen says, grinning, "you know, I need recommendations for things to read while I'm sitting on the train at really late hours."
Jared chuckles. "If you want more noir suggestions, I should send you to AJ, although he's more of a horror guy. It's not really my thing. I know, I know, I sell books for a living and don't like everything."
"I don't like vodka drinks," Jensen offers. "Tom had a bad tequila experience in college and doesn't drink it any more. Danneel doesn't really like beer."
"She works in a bar and she doesn't like beer?" Jared turns away from the shelves and stares at Jensen in disbelief.
"Weird, right? When we bring in something new she'll try it, just so she knows what to tell customers, but if she has a choice she's rather have a mixed drink. Or a Maker's Mark, straight up."
Which makes sense. They're a bourbon bar, after all.
"Huh," Jared says, going back to his rearranging.
Jensen watches him fix the shelves, thinking idly about how nice it is to just be able to stand next to someone and watch them work in companionable silence. Two Brothers is never really quiet. Even when he's there by himself, he has the radio or the jukebox on. The Moose and Mayhem is calm and quiet at nearly four in the morning, and he can really appreciate that.
And it's very pleasant to be in the same space as Jared and not have to talk. Jensen spends his days and nights talking to people, a lot of them strangers, and sometimes he just wants to hang out with someone and not feel like either of them needs to speak.
"What are you thinking?" Jared asks, finally reaching the end of the section and moving away to reshelve On Writing.
"Just that it's quiet in here and I like it," Jensen says. "I talk to people all night. I love my job - you might have to remind me of that once the kitchen's in - but being around people all the time can be exhausting."
"I like being around people. It's always weird when the college kids go home for break, because I'm so used to them coming in at night. During the summer I get kids who are here for summer session, though, so that's okay. But spring break is kinda quiet. That was last week. They're back now."
"I could really get into doing your job."
"You wanna trade?" Jared finds a spot for On Writing and slides it onto the shelf, then turns and grins at Jensen.
Jesus Christ, he's cute, Jensen thinks, sudden and incongruous. Not that it's a thought he hasn't had before. Repeatedly. One of the reasons he keeps coming back here, even though he's always tired and knows he should go home instead, is because he really likes Jared's face. And Jared's shoulders, which are right now pulling his shirt as he stretches. And Jared's long legs. And Jared's hands.
"Maybe not," Jared says now, answering his own question as he heads back towards the counter. "I don't know anything about mixing drinks."
"And I don't know anything about selling books. I'd still have to talk to people, if I had your job."
"Yeah, you would." Jared leans against the counter, still grinning.
"You should come to the bar sometime," Jensen blurts out. "Let me make you something. I'm always coming here. You should come to me."
"I don't know if I have time. No one else can come in late, that's why I do it."
"You don't have to come at night. Just think about it."
"Okay." It might be Jensen's imagination, but it seems to him as if Jared's grin changes slightly, from something open and cheerful and a little teasing to something more contemplative and even bashful.
Jensen doesn't want to examine it too closely, but it feels like a private moment they're sharing. Then he yawns, changing the atmosphere yet again.
"I should probably go home," he says, stifling another yawn. "I didn't realize I was this tired."
"Not a bad idea. I don't think you want to sleep on my floor."
"Not really, no." Jensen holds up Alona's copy of The Big Sleep. "At least I have something to entertain me on the subway, so I don't nod off on the way home."
"Chandler's good for that."
"I'll talk to you later. I'll tell Chris you're stalking us on Facebook." Now it's his turn to grin, and Jared laughs.
"Oh, like you're not stalking us back. Go home. Go to bed." He waves Jensen out.
Jensen doesn't fall asleep on the train, but he can't make himself read either. But he's thinking about Jared, who's more interesting than Raymond Chandler anyway.
The advent of spring seems to bring out the social in people, Jared thinks, maneuvering Sadie around all the Greenwich Village residents and occasional students and the odd tourist clogging the sidewalk between his apartment and the dog run in Union Square Park. Everyone seems to want to say hi to his dog. Not that he minds, but the dog run isn't around the corner and at some point he'd like to actually get there so he can turn her loose and chat with his dog run friends.
It's a nice day and feels like Sunday, only because the crowds of people make him think everyone is out going to brunch at the same time. The dog run thankfully has the same small group of people who are always there on weekday mornings, and Jared waves to the dog owners he recognizes before taking off Sadie's leash and finding Mark and David sitting on a bench. Mark plays french horn for the Metropolitan Opera orchestra, and David is essentially a professional nerd, making YouTube videos, doing podcasts, and writing critical blog posts about things of nerdy-geeky interest. Jared has tried to watch some of the videos, but the podcasts are much easier to listen to. He'd never say so, but the podcasts make great background noise - he can listen with one ear and do a bunch of other things at the same time. He doesn't have to really pay attention.
Jared notes that Mars the Wonder Mutt, David's dog, has discovered Sadie's arrival by the simple fact of her starting to chase him around the dog run. Disraeli and Chamberlain, Mark's spoiled pugs, are lying on the ground in front of the bench, snuffling and snorting and looking very content.
"Moose!" David calls in greeting. The pugs perk up. Mark waves. Jared spares Sadie and the Wonder Mutt a glance, but they're still playing and not fighting yet, so he nudges David so he can sit at the end of the bench. "The next podcast is about Iain Banks. You should listen."
"I'll check it out," Jared says. One of the pugs heaves herself to her feet and waddles over to Jared so he can scratch her head. They look so much alike he can only tell them apart by their collars. He has no idea why Mark's pugs have recognizably-male names if they're both female, but he's never asked. Mark himself is looking through a sheaf of sheet music and Jared leans around David just enough to try and get a better look at it.
"New score," Mark says, noticing Jared's nosiness.
"He's very bad company," David adds, pretending to be annoyed. Mark rolls his eyes. "Not at all interested in my Minecraft woes."
"Your kid's better at it than you are, isn't he," Jared comments. It's not really a question. David slaps his hand over his heart in mock offense.
"You wound me!"
"He won't shut up about it," Mark says, his eyes back on his sheet music.
"What are you doing next?" Jared asks him, and Mark holds up the music so Jared can see the cover. Tannhauser. That means nothing to Jared, whose knowledge of opera starts and ends with "fat ladies in horned helmets, plus Pavarotti", because everyone knows who Luciano Pavarotti is. There are little stickers on the sheet music, gold stars and musical notes and a little snail. "Why is it covered with stickers?"
Mark flips the sheet music around so he can see the cover. "My son did that. He thinks sheet music is boring."
"It is," David whispers to Jared.
"I heard that."
"How's the book business?"
"Good," Jared says. "Busy. If you're going to talk about authors in your podcast, you could give us a shout-out."
"I could do that."
"We could work out a discount - 'Mention that you heard about us in David's geeky podcast and get 10% off'." He considers. "Are there nerdy numbers besides forty-two? Because I can't give people that kind of discount."
"You know the podcast is worldwide, don't you?" Mark says. Jared hadn't thought he was listening, and doesn't bother to answer. The Moose and Mayhem will ship pretty much anywhere, anyway.
"I'll use a secret code," David says, rubbing his hands together as he thinks. "Something only my nerds would know to say to you."
"If you call my store a wretched hive of scum and villainy I'm not giving anyone a discount."
"I would never."
"You would," Mark says. "He keeps asking me how things are in Mos Eisley," he tells Jared. "And then I tell him that Greedo shot first." He grins.
"And then someone has to separate us," David adds, grinning as well. "We confuse the dogs."
Chamberlain makes her opinion of this whole conversation clear by sitting on David's feet. Mark chuckles.
"Can I ask you guys something?" Jared says. Mark puts down his sheet music and both he and David look at Jared expectantly. "If there's someone you think you're interested in, but you don't know if they're interested in you - but you think they are - how do you find out?"
"I kissed Jane," David answers. "I knew she liked me because she didn't slap me."
"You could ask the person," Mark suggests. "If that's too forward, you could ask one of their friends."
"Are you hot for one of your customers?"
"No," Jared says. "Well, not really. I mean, he's bought some stuff, but he's not a regular. He owns the bar where my friend's girlfriend works. He comes by sometimes late at night, after the bar closes. I don't know where he lives."
"Where's the bar?" Mark asks.
"Red Hook."
"Isn't that in Brooklyn?" David asks. He tries to nudge Chamberlain off his foot, but she doesn't move.
"He comes all the way out here after work," Mark continues, "which is, what, three in the morning? Four? He could go home and sleep, and you're not sure he's interested in you?"
"Yeah."
Mark raises an eyebrow.
"Have you been to his bar?" David asks.
"Once, but that was before we knew each other. I haven't really had time to go back. By the time they're open, I should be working. Besides, it's in Brooklyn. The one time I went, there were four of us and we took a cab."
"Bars are open by five," Mark says. "You should go. Get a soda. Say hello."
"Ask your friend to ask his girlfriend," David says.
"Her girlfriend," Jared corrects him. "I guess I could." Although to be honest, he's not sure he wants to involve the whole store in his potential love life. He's sure Genevieve knows that Jensen's been showing up at the store to chat, just because he's sure her girlfriend Danneel knows, but it seems a little too high school to ask Genevieve to ask Danneel to ask Jensen how he feels about Jared. He's an adult, he should be able to figure this out by himself.
He knew that Milo, his ex, was interested in him because Milo asked him out. But Jensen only comes to the bookstore in the wee hours and talks to him, and occasionally emails him something funny or tells him about what's going on at the bar. And that could be Jensen expressing a romantic interest, or it could be Jensen expressing a friendship interest. Jared's gaydar has never been particularly sensitive, and he's not used to waiting this long for someone to either put the moves on him or make it explicitly clear that they want him to do it.
He's pretty sure he's interested in Jensen, though. They need to hang out somewhere that isn't The Moose and Mayhem in the middle of the night, so he can know. Or he can do what David did to the woman who's now his wife, and kiss Jensen and hope he doesn't get slapped.
"Thanks," he says. "I guess."
"Are you going to kiss him?" David asks hopefully.
"Not yet. I don't want to freak him out."
Mark makes a noncommittal noise.
"You think he's into me?" Jared asks him.
"I think he's doing a good impression of it, if he's not," Mark answers.
"I'm bad at this," Jared admits. "Usually if a guy's going to hit on me, he doesn't wait a couple of months."
"Why aren't you doing the hitting?" David asks, then shakes his head at himself. "That doesn't sound right."
"I know what you mean. I don't know."
"Maybe you should try that."
"Maybe." Sadie seems to have tired Mars out, because he ambles over and plops down on the ground in front of the guys. Mark's pugs snort at him. He looks put-upon.
"I should take the Wonder Mutt home," David says, leaning over to put Mars' leash on and then standing up, finally dislodging Chamberlain off his feet. "You should kiss this guy."
"Thanks for the advice," Jared says dryly. "What if he's not into me and I scare him off?"
"You won't. Come on, mutt, we got pods to cast." Mars heaves himself up, and he and David head out of the dog run.
"He's going way out of his way to see you," Mark reminds Jared. "He sounds like he's interested. Are you?"
"I think so."
"You think so?"
"I don't know if I have time for a boyfriend. I don't even have time to go by his bar and say hello."
"If I have time to spend on the lady in my life? You do too. Don't think about it for too long." Mark folds up his sheet music and stands and stretches. "Work calls." He nudges his pugs to their feet, clips their leashes on, and leads them away. And Jared sits on the bench and wishes he remembered to bring a ball to throw for Sadie. She's exploring the dog run and the two remaining dogs - an exceptionally shaggy Samoyed and a greyhound in a pink coat - and he wants her to get more exercise before they go back to the store. He finds a stick and throws that to her for a little bit, thinking about Jensen and The Moose and Mayhem and when he might find time to make the trip out to Jensen's bar.
He continues to think about how he might find out if Jensen would be receptive to him until he and Sadie return to the bookstore, at which point he realizes he should be thinking about work. He props the door open because it's nice outside, and he wants to encourage people to come in. Through the open door he can hear the unmistakable voice of a mother at the end of her rope - "Philippe!" - which is followed thirty seconds later by a small boy wearing an unzipped Captain America hoodie who runs giggling into the store and vanishes in the back. He's trailed by a pretty but also pretty harried-looking woman who must be his mother, judging by her half-apologetic, half-pleading face. Jared points to the back of the store and she disappears as well. Sadie follows them, clearly interested. Two minutes later they're all back, with Philippe - still giggling - slung over his mom's shoulder.
"Thank you," she tells Jared as she heads out the door. He grabs for Sadie, who tries to follow. "I'm just going to turn you loose in the dog park," she tells her kid, and then they're outside the store and off down the sidewalk and out of hearing. Jared imagines one energetic small child trying to engage Mark's lazy pugs, and smiles to himself. Mars the Wonder Mutt would probably be better company.
The dog theme continues not half an hour later, when an elderly gentleman in a brown leather jacket and a flat cap comes in, sees Sadie, and bends down to pet her.
"Are you the Moose or Mayhem?" he asks.
"I'm the Moose," Jared says. "She's Sadie."
"How old is she?"
"Eight? I'm not really sure. She's a rescue and they didn't know how old she was."
They chat about dogs in general and Sadie in particular for a few minutes, until the phone rings and Jared has to answer it, freeing the elderly gentleman to wander over to the history section. He's eventually joined by an older woman in a red coat who must be his wife, and they leave with a travel book on Prague and a history called More Powerful Than Dynamite, which Jared has actually read and can recommend from experience. Both of them stop to pet Sadie on the way out the door, much to her delight.
The rest of the day passes as they normally do - customers to help and orders to take care of and employees' hours to verify and shelves to straighten and a book signing to arrange and invoices to pay. He and Chad should probably sit down and have a conversation about money. He eats dinner and walks Sadie before taking her up to the apartment, and then it's late at night and all that's left is to run a broom around the store because for some reason people were tracking in crap on their shoes all day.
Charles the jazz musician drops by a little before four, as he does at least once a week. He keeps a nocturnal schedule, and he reads a lot. Every so often he'll bring in a bunch of used books to sell for store credit, just to clear off his shelves for new ones. He takes good care of his books and Jared is happy to buy them.
"I'm playing a gig in Astoria next week," he tells Jared, after paying for a Robert Jackson Bennett paperback. "Can I leave a flyer?"
"Sure," Jared says. There's a noticeboard by the counter, where people can post flyers for various events and things of general neighborhood interest. Jared pins Charles' flyer over an old notice for yoga classes. He can't go to the show, but AJ lives in Astoria and might be interested.
Not long after Charles leaves, another couple of guys come in - one with brown hair and a green jacket, and his friend, who's shorter and blond and practically drowning in a Cooper Union hoodie.
"Did you really drag me across the river to a bookstore?" the blond guy asks, as they come to a stop by the table set up with this month's suggested reading.
"Yes," his friend says.
"Why?"
"Because bookstores are really soothing to me. And I thought you'd be too cold on the ferry."
The blond guy shrugs, says "I have a hood," and wanders off towards the art and architecture books. His friend follows before Jared has a chance to offer to help them find something.
They don't buy anything, and aside from a very strange phone call that turns out to be a very wrong number, the store is dead until Anton shows up at five and Jared can go upstairs and to bed.
The next night sees a few college students coming in twos and threes, a high schooler in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms who admits she had to sneak out of her parents' apartment but she just finished Code Name: Verity and needs the next book, a pair of girls who seem to be on a date, and a punk guy in the requisite black stovepipe jeans and Doc Martens and a jean jacket covered with studs and patches and paint. There's a blue star tattooed on the back of his hand, which Jared notices when the guy pulls off his glove so he can count his money. He buys two art books - Robert Mapplethorpe Polaroids (used) and 1940s pin-up girls (new) - and much to Jared's surprise, he pays in cash.
The Sams come in not long after the punk with the art books leaves. Blonde Sam explains that they've been sent on a coffee-and-snack run because it's very quiet at the hospital, to which Brunette Sam makes the sign of the cross with her index fingers and hisses "You said the Q word! Never say the Q word!"
"Quiet?" Jared asks.
"Shh!"
"Sorry," Blonde Sam apologizes sheepishly. "Things are calm. We're taking a break." She glances around the store. "This place looks so clean!"
"I swept," Jared says.
"Do you do houses?" Brunette Sam asks.
"Just mine."
Blonde Sam goes off to look at the craft books, and Jared asks Brunette Sam "How do you know if a guy is interested in you?"
"Usually he asks me out," she says. "Why? Do you need a date?" She grins.
"There's a guy who comes in sometimes really late at night, and I think I'm interested in him, and I think he's interested in me, but he hasn't done anything, so I'm not sure. One of my friends says I should kiss him if I really want to know, but I don't want to wig him out. He works in Brooklyn. I'm really out of his way. But he hasn't made a move yet."
"Is he even gay?"
Jared tries to remember if Jensen has ever said anything about an ex, or if Genevieve has ever said anything about him, and he's pretty sure that... yeah, Jensen did mention an ex-boyfriend once, when they were talking about working nights and how hard it was sometimes to see your friends who had 9-5 jobs. "Yeah, he is, he told me about his ex-boyfriend."
"Maybe you should try asking him out."
"I don't know if I have time for a boyfriend. Or if he does."
"Then why are you thinking about him? And if he doesn't have time, why does he keep coming to see you?"
Blonde Sam comes back to the front of the bookstore and Brunette Sam asks her how she knows when someone is interested in her.
"If they ask me on a date, that's usually a pretty big clue," she says, then holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers so Jared and the other Sam can see her wedding ring. "But they usually don't."
"Jared wants to ask a boy out," Brunette Sam explains, "but can't tell how it would be received. I suggested he do the asking."
Both Sams look at Jared expectantly.
"What?" he says. "You both think I should ask him out? What if he says no?"
"What are the chances?" Brunette Sam asks.
"He hasn't made a move yet. If he's so interested in me, why hasn't he done anything about it?"
"This guy comes from Brooklyn to see Jared," Brunette Sam explains to Blonde Sam. "That's his move," she tells Jared. "Now it's your turn."
Jared remembers what Mark said, that Jensen is making a point to come out of his way late at night when he's tired and no doubt wants to go home. As someone who really enjoys his sleep, as little of it as he gets, Jared can see how putting off one's warm bed to chat with someone might indicate the opening move towards a future relationship. So Brunette Sam is right, and it's Jared's turn to do something.
He just has to find a time and place, and figure out what exactly his move is going to be.
He shares this with the Sams, who seem satisfied, and he tells them to wave hello to all the newborns for him when they get back to the hospital.
Two afternoons later he sucks up his courage, leaves Sadie with Kim at the store, and takes Mark's advice to go to Two Brothers Bar to visit Jensen in his place of work for once. Jensen did tell him to come by, after all.
"Jared!" Danneel calls from behind the bar. "What are you doing here?"
"Is, uh, is Jensen here?" he asks.
"No. It's his day off." She smiles brightly. "Gen owes me ten bucks."
"Why?"
"I bet her you'd have to ask Jensen out first." Danneel looks unreasonably pleased with herself. Jared doesn't mind that Genevieve is discussing his lack of love life with her girlfriend.
"I didn't come to ask him anything."
"Uh-huh. You want a drink while you're here? The kitchen's not done yet, but the bar's open." She waves in the general direction of the end of the bar, where if Jared looks around the counter he can see a hole in the wall covered by two thick plastic sheets.
"No, I'm gonna go back to the store."
"Soda?" Jared shakes his head and she shrugs. "Do you want me to tell him you were here?"
"No. Wait. Yeah. Tell him I came to say hi."
"Just hi?"
"Just hi."
"That's boring. When the kitchen's done you'll have to come back and have dinner. Chris is so proud of his menu." She rolls her eyes in a way that makes Jared think she's tired of hearing about it. "If you're awake before two, you can come for brunch."
"I might. I should go. Tell Gen I said hi."
Well, that was a bust, he thinks as he waits for the bus back to the subway station. But at least he tried. And he can always come back. And Danneel will tell Jensen he came by, which is almost as good as Jensen actually being here to see him.
The bar is driving Jensen nuts. There's the kitchen renovation, which is taking longer than expected thanks to the building's idiosyncratic plumbing and some DIY electrical work that the next-door tenants did about ten years ago. There are the various incarnations of the menu, which Chris revises every few days or so, plus his attempts to make everything himself to try it out on the bar's unwitting staff and customers. "Why have a captive audience," he says, "if you're not going to take advantage of it?" They haven't found a cook yet, although not for lack of trying, and no one is sure about what other staff they might need to hire. Danneel thinks they're going to need at least one dedicated server, but Jensen and Chris both suspect that she just doesn't want to have to do it on top of her normal bartender duties.
At least they've been able to buy a lot of equipment off Eric, who as it turns out isn't closing Audrey's so much as merging it with an existing bakery that one of his friends owns in Queens. The bar already has a supplier for things like glassware and dishes and paper goods, although Chris and Jensen are still looking for a reasonable supplier for fresh produce and meat and dairy. They want to buy as local as possible and they don't want to cut corners, but they don't have a big budget.
As if that wasn't enough to think about, suddenly Two Brothers is crammed with people on line-dance nights, so much so that Jensen and Chris have made it once a week, rather than twice a month. It was always something they offered as kind of a joke and a nostalgic throwback to bars Chris remembered from his youth - and because it fit the bar's general honky-tonk, country-western ambience, and it was fun - but even though they got enough of a crowd to make it worthwhile, line-dancing was never the bar's biggest draw.
Now all of a sudden people are showing up every week to line up and kick their heels around the tiny dance floor in front of the stage. Jensen knows he shouldn't complain, because business is business and folks who come for the dancing pay good money for their drinks, but he doesn't understand it at all. He keeps up with industry trends, and he hasn't read or seen or heard anything about a resurgence in interest for country-bar line-dancing in New York.
"Ironic hipsters," Tom mutters one night, his voice low enough that no one on the other side of the bar can hear him, but Jensen can.
"Ironic hipsters with money," Jensen adds. "How's the tap?" It wasn't working right last night, and Chris and Jensen spent most of the morning and half the afternoon trying to figure out what was wrong. The last thing they need is for one of the taps to give out.
"So far so good." Tom pulls on it, gets half a glass of foam, dumps it, and tries again. This time it works. Jensen glances up and notes the crowd of people pressed against the counter, either chatting with each other or trying to get his attention. At least he and Tom haven't had to break up any fights. If nothing else, this new crowd seems pretty well-behaved.
He can hear the music over the crowd, and Chris' friend Steve calling out what sound suspiciously like square-dance steps. He chuckles to himself. Way to confuse the hipsters, Steve.
Tom scoots down the bar to deliver his beers and Jensen takes his place at the taps. He pours three pints, a Pappy Van Winkle on the rocks, and a Coke with three cherries, and leans over the counter to better hear the next order, only to discover Felicia from the Ginger Girls' Club yelling "Where did all these people come from??" near his face.
"It's not your night," he yells back, which is a stupid response but the only thing he can think of.
"Julie wanted to line-dance. I told her it was never this crowded!"
"Surprise! What can I get you?"
"Red Stripe, Red Stripe, Hendricks martini! Shaken, like Bond. I know it's not red, you don't have to tell me." Jensen leans away from the bar enough to see her grin.
"Soon we'll have a kitchen," he says, "and you can get red meat and red potatoes and probably red velvet cake," and then he goes off to get her beers and to make the martini.
For the first few months after Two Brothers opened, people would order martinis and be surprised as hell when they were served classic martinis, made with gin and vermouth and garnished with a stuffed olive. Jensen and Chris both resent the way "martini" turned into shorthand for "vodka cocktail in a martini glass", and eventually had to put it on the little drinks menus and the web site that if you order a martini, no qualifier, you're going to get gin and vermouth, and if you want it made with vodka, you need to say so.
Fortunately for Chris and Jensen - although maybe not so much for people who like vodka cocktails served in martini glasses - the fad seems to be fading, giving over to a new trend towards dark-liquor drinks. And if you want a craft cocktail made with bourbon or whiskey or rye, Two Brothers is your place.
Danneel squeezes behind Jensen as he's shaking Felicia's martini, her hands full of dirty glasses. "You can't even breathe on the floor," she says. "I can't get over this. Where did these people come from? They're not even all good tippers."
"Tom told Mike, Mike told everyone?" Jensen suggests. Tom's roommate seems to know fully half the residents of the five boroughs, plus huge chunks of western Long Island, all of Westchester County, and north New Jersey.
Danneel shrugs and keeps moving. As she edges behind Tom, Jensen can see her pause to ask him something. Tom shakes his head and Danneel goes on to the kitchen.
It's a crowded but good night, business-wise, even if no one has the energy to clean up after the bar closes. Steve complains that someone kept making requests - "It would've been okay if they were asking for bands I'd ever heard of," he grumps - and Danneel bitches that she had her ass slapped three times.
"Why didn't you say something?" Jensen demands. One of the house rules is that you don't touch the bartenders. The house rules are hanging on the wall and written on the chalkboard behind the bar, so there's no excuse for not having seen them.
"I grabbed the last guy's hand and yelled 'Did anyone lose a hand? Because I found this one on my ass,'" she explains. "He was suitably embarrassed."
"Well, if it happens again, tell me or Chris and we'll have a word."
"I would've smacked him for you," Tom adds. "Alona would have too, if she was here."
"I can smack my own rude customers, thank you," Danneel says. "It's just been so long since someone played grab-ass that I was surprised. The first time I was trying to get past the line-dancers and I thought it was an accident."
"Could've been," Steve comments. "There were a lot of uncoordinated people out there."
"A lot of drunk uncoordinated people."
"Good for business," Jensen reminds them. "At least there's that."
They wipe down the tables and the bar counter and put away the cocktail garnishes and pick up the rest of the dirty glasses and turn over the chairs on top of the tables and sweep the floor and wipe off the booths. Jensen divides up the tips.
"Tell Chris he needs to run the music next time," Steve says to Jensen as he heads for his car. "He's got more patience. Although I gotta say, getting to call square dance changes was fun."
"You didn't scare everyone away," Jensen says. "That's something. Drive safe."
"See you later."
Jensen seriously considers going out to The Moose and Mayhem to see Jared, mostly because Jared dropped by the bar a couple of days ago when he wasn't there, but he's so tired he can't think. The apartment is dark and Chris is fast asleep by the time Jensen gets home, which isn't surprising, and the kitchen is full of dirty dishes, which is. There's a Post-It stuck to the door of Jensen's bedroom, telling him the darkroom out in Queens is booked tomorrow. This is frustrating, because he was looking forward to some private time with 35mm film negatives and paper and chemicals and no people.
As he's falling asleep he has an idea what he can do with his day instead. He'll call Jared. They should spend time together that isn't just late at night at Jared's bookstore. He knows they're both busy, but he's ready to commit to someone again, and from what Danneel has told him - and from what her girlfriend has told her - he's pretty sure Jared's ready too. One of them just has to make the first move, and it may as well be Jensen.
Sort of.
"Are you asking me out?" Jared says, when Jensen calls The Moose and Mayhem and asks for him. He and Chris are sitting in the bar about to have a meeting, and Chris insisted Jensen get this out of the way first. Jensen is pretty sure Chris just wants to be able to eavesdrop on the conversation.
"I guess so," Jensen says. "I know you'll have to get back to your store, and I have a lot of stuff to do - I should be doing some of it now, actually - but I thought if you had a couple of free hours...."
"I can make some time. Should I meet you at the bar?"
"Do you want to see the construction?"
"Yeah."
"Really? If Chris is around he'll give you a tour and talk your ear off about his food plans."
"That's okay. I like to eat."
Jensen can almost hear Jared's grin through the phone. "All righty, then. Two Brothers, five o'clock. See you then."
Onward!