Chapter 2

“Ha!” Greg pointed. He cast a glance at Mason and nodded. “Just an act. I knew it.” He leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, yet loud enough that Mason was sure the entire building could have heard, let alone the four of them. “He wants to fuck me.”

“Aaand, we’re preteens now,” Mason lifted his hand in a mock salute. “Gentlemen, I bid you well in your attempts at socializing, but I for one am off to shower and then drink my lonely self into oblivion.” He bowed with a flourish, stepping backwards. “Adieu.”

Both Evan and Henry repeated the gesture. “Catch you next Saturday then.”

Mason stopped quickly and lifted one hand. “No, actually; you won’t.”

Three sets of eyes turned to stare in shock. While they always seemed to have plans they just couldn’t get out of, families to tend to, friends getting married, and places to be, Mason always managed to make the game. It wasn’t that he had no life, Mason would be the first to argue that point if it was broached. It was just that the little he did have, he could always work around everything else. It helped that he had a strict no-work-on-the-weekend policy that was pretty easy to maintain considering he was the owner of the company. It also didn’t hurt that he had no little ones of his own, no partner to have to check with, and that most of the people in his social circle did. As such, they took very little of his time because they had so very little to give away. It meant that Mason could, and usually did, jump whenever he was asked. No doubt they were surprised.

“I have a trip planned,” Mason explained. “I’m going up north for some R&R now that I’ve finished the NYC venture.”

“Oh?” Evan smirked. “Little weekend rendezvous?”

“A week actually. Unfortunately no illicit stolen moments though. Just some down and out time. I need it.”

Henry sniffed and grimaced. “So, you’re going on a holiday alone? Like, not even with a friend? How fucking boring is that?”

Mason opened his mouth to bite a response back but Greg beat him to it. “Shut the fuck up, Henry. Just because you don’t know how to live a single moment without precious little Carey or one of the ankle-biters pawing at you for some fucking attention, don’t think the rest of us need that to survive. What the hell’s wrong with you? Do you purposely try to sound like a dick or does it just come naturally?”

“I actually like the sound of dicks.” Mason stepped between the two of them before anything else could be said. “Squishy ones, hard ones, wet ones, dry ones; they make such a lovely variety of sounds. Symphonic even.” He grinned in the resulting silence and tapped Greg’s arm. “So? Beer?”

It took everything in Mason’s power not to laugh when Greg smiled at him and said politely, “Well now. That was fantastically disgusting.”

* * * *

The game was on above the bar, the jukebox played in the corner, and the beer was almost cold. While it wasn’t busy, there was enough of a crowd that they could both blend in, mostly unbothered but for the occasional refresh or washroom break. It was good, Mason decided; much better than sitting at home alone, even if he did have packing to do.

“So, are you really going to go on vacation all by yourself?” Greg asked, leaning close enough for conversation but not taking his eyes off the game.

Mason didn’t let the question bother him. Unlike Henry’s earlier distaste, he knew Greg meant well in asking. Perhaps even had concerns about it.

“And this surprises you why?”

Greg shrugged, and tried to catch the server’s eye. “Dunno. I guess it just seems kind of pointless to go away and—” he stopped talking and turned to look at Mason with a smirk. “Hey, it’s not one of those deviance getaways, is it? With like orgies and shit?”

Mason stared, pokerfaced. “Did we just meet?”

The laugh that started to bark out of Greg’s mouth dissolved into carnal triumph as he finally secured the attention of their waitress. He watched Greg paste on a big grin, lean towards the waitress and shout-ask for an order of wings, smiling at the carefree way that his buddy managed to interact with humanity. Mason liked that. He liked it very much; enough that had the hairy bugger not been so insistently straight, their casual friendship would have been ruthlessly chased for more.

Mason lowered his eyes to the table and chuckled at the thought. Well, maybe not ruthlessly. But definitely with every bit of his heart and talent.