Bread
Anthony looked at his phone and realized he was late. Panicking, he hurriedly grabbed his hat and rushed out the door.
"Shit," he thought as his car wisped down the highway at an unruly speed. "I hope I'm not too late! It's almost 6!" He sat waiting at a red light for what almost felt like an hour before finally pulling into the parking lot, checking his phone to see the time once again.
5:58 pm. He had two minutes to spare.
He pulled open the large wooden doors into the dim, yet cozy restaurant and removed his hat nervously.
"Good evening sir. Table for one, I presume?" The young waiter asked with a gleaming white smile. Anthony noticed he had very nice cheekbones that complimented the overall structure of his face and his hazel eyes were gleaming with a warm friendliness as though greeting an old friend once again.
"Actually I'm meeting someone here. Can I look around?" Anthony asked, peering over the waiter's shoulder in the hopes of catching some sort of glimpse of the person he was meeting.
"Of course," he replied, stepping aside.
"Thank you," Anthony smiled kindly before heading in the direction of the dining area. His bright brown eyes scanned around in search of a familiar black and white plaid shirt. He spotted his target sitting alone amongst the other dining couples in the restaurant. He was biting into a buttered roll and admiring the designs carved into the table when Anthony approached. Anthony made sure his steps were as stealthy as possible hoping to sneak up on him but the young man in the plaid shirt finally glanced up and smiled upon seeing him.
"Hi."
"Hey um, Ian," Anthony smiled back, feeling a heat slowly rise up to his face. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he apologized then cleared his throat.
"No! Sit!" Ian dismissively waved off his unneeded apology and gestured to the seat facing him. Anthony's face slowly formed into a grin as he sat down. Ian finished the last morsel or bread in his hand and reached for another roll in the basket. "Bread?"
"Uh, sure," Anthony smiled nervously as he reached for a pale sourdough roll and the butter.
How can he be so calm? Anthony thought to himself as he buttered the top of the bread and watched as Ian did the same to his new roll.
"Sorry I ate most of the bread before you got here. I'll just ask for more." Ian seemed pleased with himself as he sunk his teeth into the roll.
Anthony took a small bite as he observed Ian's scruffy jaw chewing and his vision quickly went from his Adam's apple to his glistening bright blue eyes as they glanced up to catch him staring. All the while Anthony said nothing.
"Did you see how hot the waiter was? I'd tap that shit in a heartbeat," Ian grinned.
Anthony snapped back to reality. "What? You and that waiter guy?" he asked turning to look behind him.
"Shush! Don't look!" Ian hissed with a mouth full of bread.
"Yeah, he’s cute but he’s probably not gay," Anthony smirked back.
"Nah, dude. Did you even see how white his teeth are? Also I’m pretty sure he had a manicure," Ian disagreed. "He's definitely gay, man. No doubt about it.”
“Uh-huh,” Anthony sat back and crossed his arms. “So then why don’t you just date him then?”
“Well,” Ian began doubtfully, “he just doesn't have a little tuff of hair that I could mess around with. You know, along the side of his face?"
Anthony flipped his hair back and raised his eyebrow. "Oh?"
Ian nodded and sighed like a lovesick teenager. "Also his eyes aren't the right shade. They should be… oh, I don’t know. Brown?"
"So you wanna date a man with poop eyes then?" Anthony asked back. Ian hummed, still slightly unsure, then finally grinned widely and nodded as though he just discovered the answer to a long-ass equation.
"Well of course. Who doesn't?"
"Actually I personally prefer blue eyes."
Ian blinked then shrugged.
"To each his own then," he replied. "My guy has to have a sense of humor too. Mr. Dashing Waiter doesn't look like he can take a joke."
"Well he does have a nice build though," Anthony noticed. "He must work out."
"You don't always have to work out to be sexy," Ian retorted.
"Very true," Anthony agreed glancing in Ian's direction with a smirk forming on his face.
Ian looked over from the waiter back to Anthony who was smiling in his direction.
“What?”
"Are we really starting out our dinner date by ogling the waiter?" Anthony grinned.
Ian laughed.
"Am I making you jealous yet?"
Anthony's cheeks flushed a bit pinker as he averted his gaze to the same table carvings Ian had admired before he arrived. “Shut-up. Maybe…"
Ian giggled and reached his hands out over his, making Anthony turn an even deeper shade of red. He tried to hold down his smile and didn't dare look Ian in the eyes.
"No one in this room is as sexy or as wonderful as you are, Anthony.”
Anthony finally looked up and their gazes locked for what seemed like days, a powerful radiance enveloping the two lovers as their fingers intertwined and their smiles grew wide.
Suddenly they heard a throat clear.
"Are you gentlemen ready to order?"
They both let their lasting embrace break as realization and embarrassment fueled their hurried attempt to address the waiter and the two desperately scanned the menu.
“I uh,” Ian began.
“I think we need a few more minutes,” they both replied in unison. They both chuckled nervously at how they both answered and glanced at each other once more.
“We’ll need another order of bread too.”
"Shit," he thought as his car wisped down the highway at an unruly speed. "I hope I'm not too late! It's almost 6!" He sat waiting at a red light for what almost felt like an hour before finally pulling into the parking lot, checking his phone to see the time once again.
5:58 pm. He had two minutes to spare.
He pulled open the large wooden doors into the dim, yet cozy restaurant and removed his hat nervously.
"Good evening sir. Table for one, I presume?" The young waiter asked with a gleaming white smile. Anthony noticed he had very nice cheekbones that complimented the overall structure of his face and his hazel eyes were gleaming with a warm friendliness as though greeting an old friend once again.
"Actually I'm meeting someone here. Can I look around?" Anthony asked, peering over the waiter's shoulder in the hopes of catching some sort of glimpse of the person he was meeting.
"Of course," he replied, stepping aside.
"Thank you," Anthony smiled kindly before heading in the direction of the dining area. His bright brown eyes scanned around in search of a familiar black and white plaid shirt. He spotted his target sitting alone amongst the other dining couples in the restaurant. He was biting into a buttered roll and admiring the designs carved into the table when Anthony approached. Anthony made sure his steps were as stealthy as possible hoping to sneak up on him but the young man in the plaid shirt finally glanced up and smiled upon seeing him.
"Hi."
"Hey um, Ian," Anthony smiled back, feeling a heat slowly rise up to his face. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he apologized then cleared his throat.
"No! Sit!" Ian dismissively waved off his unneeded apology and gestured to the seat facing him. Anthony's face slowly formed into a grin as he sat down. Ian finished the last morsel or bread in his hand and reached for another roll in the basket. "Bread?"
"Uh, sure," Anthony smiled nervously as he reached for a pale sourdough roll and the butter.
How can he be so calm? Anthony thought to himself as he buttered the top of the bread and watched as Ian did the same to his new roll.
"Sorry I ate most of the bread before you got here. I'll just ask for more." Ian seemed pleased with himself as he sunk his teeth into the roll.
Anthony took a small bite as he observed Ian's scruffy jaw chewing and his vision quickly went from his Adam's apple to his glistening bright blue eyes as they glanced up to catch him staring. All the while Anthony said nothing.
"Did you see how hot the waiter was? I'd tap that shit in a heartbeat," Ian grinned.
Anthony snapped back to reality. "What? You and that waiter guy?" he asked turning to look behind him.
"Shush! Don't look!" Ian hissed with a mouth full of bread.
"Yeah, he’s cute but he’s probably not gay," Anthony smirked back.
"Nah, dude. Did you even see how white his teeth are? Also I’m pretty sure he had a manicure," Ian disagreed. "He's definitely gay, man. No doubt about it.”
“Uh-huh,” Anthony sat back and crossed his arms. “So then why don’t you just date him then?”
“Well,” Ian began doubtfully, “he just doesn't have a little tuff of hair that I could mess around with. You know, along the side of his face?"
Anthony flipped his hair back and raised his eyebrow. "Oh?"
Ian nodded and sighed like a lovesick teenager. "Also his eyes aren't the right shade. They should be… oh, I don’t know. Brown?"
"So you wanna date a man with poop eyes then?" Anthony asked back. Ian hummed, still slightly unsure, then finally grinned widely and nodded as though he just discovered the answer to a long-ass equation.
"Well of course. Who doesn't?"
"Actually I personally prefer blue eyes."
Ian blinked then shrugged.
"To each his own then," he replied. "My guy has to have a sense of humor too. Mr. Dashing Waiter doesn't look like he can take a joke."
"Well he does have a nice build though," Anthony noticed. "He must work out."
"You don't always have to work out to be sexy," Ian retorted.
"Very true," Anthony agreed glancing in Ian's direction with a smirk forming on his face.
Ian looked over from the waiter back to Anthony who was smiling in his direction.
“What?”
"Are we really starting out our dinner date by ogling the waiter?" Anthony grinned.
Ian laughed.
"Am I making you jealous yet?"
Anthony's cheeks flushed a bit pinker as he averted his gaze to the same table carvings Ian had admired before he arrived. “Shut-up. Maybe…"
Ian giggled and reached his hands out over his, making Anthony turn an even deeper shade of red. He tried to hold down his smile and didn't dare look Ian in the eyes.
"No one in this room is as sexy or as wonderful as you are, Anthony.”
Anthony finally looked up and their gazes locked for what seemed like days, a powerful radiance enveloping the two lovers as their fingers intertwined and their smiles grew wide.
Suddenly they heard a throat clear.
"Are you gentlemen ready to order?"
They both let their lasting embrace break as realization and embarrassment fueled their hurried attempt to address the waiter and the two desperately scanned the menu.
“I uh,” Ian began.
“I think we need a few more minutes,” they both replied in unison. They both chuckled nervously at how they both answered and glanced at each other once more.
“We’ll need another order of bread too.”