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Toby had never met someone quite like Adil. When he had first returned from school and had met the bartender for the first time he had been blown away.
He quickly became accustomed to watching Adil while he was working, hiding himself behind glasses of whiskey and good books, attempting to slyly glance at him from the corner of his eye.
He always admired the grace that Adil exuded, the seamless way he floated throughout the crowds, flawlessly working his way around the drunk men and the dancing couples.
Even when he was hidden behind the bar he had a graceful air that made his moves flow, despite the fact they were obviously practiced and methodical. Almost like he was dancing.
Toby himself had never been that beautiful. He knew he walked awkwardly, shuffled and knocked into things. Even when he spoke he tripped over his words and ended up babbling.
He was everything that Adil wasn't. Where Adil was soft lines and kind eyes, Toby was sharp points and rough edges. In a way he was jealous, but moreso he just wanted to see more of it.
See more of him.
He wanted to see Adil when he wasn't working, when he wasn't serving up quick drinks and polite conversation, when there wasn't the barrier of a bar between them and he could watch unabashedly.
Wanted to see if he was just as soft under those perfectly pressed clothes, if he moved in such a lovely way when he wasn't in the bar, if he acted so gracefully when it came to other things. Odly specific things.
The thought terrified him.
He still can't help but watch Adil, even though the guilt he feels when he does is overwhelming. He still can't understand why he thinks about him like this when the thoughts make his stomach turn.
Boys shouldn't think about other boys like this. There's a word for people like that. Toby isn't one of them. Adil definitely can't be.
That doesn't stop him though. Doesn't stop him from occasionally looking for any excuse to touch Adil, to let him linger close by.
For finding reasons to go to the bar in case Adil happens to be working, offering to take messages downstairs on the off-chance they bump into eachother.
His denial was going so well.
Until Lady Theresa.
His mother had been on at him for days, telling him to dance with her, or at least try to spend a couple of hours in her company. Toby had met Lady Theresa before, so unfortunately he had accepted the fact that this was going to be a challenge.
Much like he had predicted, it was. After about ten minutes he felt himself falling asleep and had to pinch his leg to keep his eyes from falling shut.
Fortunately Adil noticed and offered Toby a way out, one he took gladly, hastily leaving to escape anymore of Lady Theresa's screeching.
Tragically, later he isn't so lucky, and when she corners him by the stairs to the staff area he babbles himself out of any conversation before hurrying away down the stairs.
She doesn't however get the hint. He doesn't even care at first that Adil is here with him, he just wants to escape her endless self-absorption.
When Adil sniggers he presses his hand to his mouth, attempting to stop him from giving their position away. All it really does is make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he feels Adil's breath hot on his hand.
When Adil kisses him it makes sense.
But he wishes it didn't.
Thinking back on it he regrets running away, regrets not grabbing Adil by the lapels and kissing him again, regrets not crowding him in and pushing him against the wall, regrets not making the most of the moment.
He thinks back to the way he could feel Adil's chest pressed against his, the cool dryness of Adil's lips on his, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.
He remembers in perfect detail how he swayed forwards into the kiss before he pushed Adil away, remembers the shaky breath he'd let out before he ran away, too scared to look back in case Adil called his name.
He knows that if he had, he would have stopped, and he would have kissed Adil again right there and then in the corridor.
All night he tosses and turns, remembering in crystal clear clarity each of the sensations, when he does fall asleep it is fitful and he finds himself unable to let go of the quiet thrum of pressure building beneath his veins.
It takes several attempts for him to calm himself, to bring his breathing back down. And once he has, he makes his decision.
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He expects to have to go and find Adil himself, and spends the majority of the morning planning out each way the conversation could go.
So when the knock comes it's an honest surprise. He can't help the way his body reacts when Adil speaks, and he doesn't mean to sound dismissive when he first replies.
When Adil goes to leave Toby hastens to say his part, hoping it will convince him to stay.
It does.
This time when they kiss, the feelings drown out any thoughts that this might be a bad idea, with Adil here, safe against him, nothing's ever felt more right.
He kisses him and he kisses him and he kisses him, and Adil allows it. This time, he doesn't run away, he faces his fears and he pushes.
Pushes Adil back against the wall, runs his fingers along his cheekbones, his jawline, down his neck, committing every single patch of skin to memory.
Adil huffs out a breathless laugh "I'm right here you know, i'm not going anywhere".
Toby doesn't laugh back, but he does smile as he slips his hands up under Adil's jacket and draws him back into a kiss, this one faster and dirtier than their first.
Eventually he has to pull back, breathless, and drag himself away from Adil and to work, only leaving on the promise that they will continue this later.
When it comes down to it, Toby was right. Underneath his pressed clothes Adil is just as beautiful, just as graceful and soft.
He teaches Toby patiently, his face shining with an adoration Toby's never seen before. He blushes deep and laughs shyly while they roll around and Toby is unaccustomed to such beauty.
In the heat of the moment he just likes to look at Adil, watch him when he's blushing and breathing heavily, mouth open wide in pleasure.
He still touches every part of Adil he can reach. Ideally they would have forever, but Toby's educated enough to believe he won't get a happy ending.
They have the time they have, and he makes the most of it, committing every part of Adil's body to memory, every noise he makes, every face he pulls, it burns into his mind.
What he feels for Adil, it consumes him.
He loves him.
...
He loves him.
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