Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
By Redrum
Author Notes: Just a short piece that I wanted to do after reading a rather cliche line.
Thank you to Phynix, In-the-Shadows and I Got Tired of Waiting for looking over this.
Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder
By Redrum
"What does he see in him?" the bartender muttered while wiping down the stained counter top. Her eyes rested on the pair in question. At first when they'd walked into the restaurant, she'd thought they were father and son; although she had to admit that after taking a second look, they didn't look all that alike besides the dark hair and pale complexion.
The first kiss had dispelled that theory though -- not that the shared looks and casual touches didn't help to get rid of the assumption of a father and son relationship. Unless they were the type of people to be into that!
They were sitting at the corner table, a popular one for couples. It was just far enough away from the overhead hanging lights that it was partially in the shadows and the hustle and bustle of the busy hours never seemed to quite reach that table, allowing for obviously much needed solitude.
She could barely make out what they were saying since an older customer was prattling on about something that was disgusting and involved in growing older. Considering she was still in her prime, she couldn't quite relate yet and she wasn't exactly sorry for that fact either.
She continued to watch them discreetly while cleaning out the glasses and putting cash in the register when customers chose to pay their bill at the register.
The older man leaned toward his younger companion, his dark eyes (she didn't know if they were a brown or dark blue from this lighting) seemed focused only on his lover (the touches suggested no less). His prominent nose, which looked to have been broken several times in his past, would occasionally take a whiff of the young man's hair when the man smiled and scooted closer to his companion. She couldn't imagine the dour looking old man having anything to say to make the pretty boy laugh.
The man in question was quite charming really and it was a shame that he was gay. His bright green eyes could be seen from where she stood, she noted as she was washing the glasses (already clean, but she needed something to do with her hands). His smile was bright and energetic, but would occasionally shift to a small and almost shy smile, which was always mirrored by his companion (she was disgusted to note that the older man's teeth weren't quite straight or white either). His black locks were the exact opposite of his companion's, which were lank and completely flat. The young man's hair seemed to defy gravity and was persistent in sticking up as though he always ran a hand through it (she tried not to think about the possibilities of what his hair would look like after a romp with the older man).
She couldn't help but smile when the young man leaned close to his lover and placed a hand over the larger one, his fingers twining with the longer digits. The full lips moved, whispering something (she imagined his voice to be warm and inviting to whomever he talked to) that brought a warm smile and a quiet laugh that she could hear from behind the counter. Her smile grew as their hands tightened around each other and the pair stood up.
Her eyes widened when they started coming over to the bar and she quickly put away the sparkling glass she was holding behind the counter, and tried to look like she hadn't been trying to listen in on what they were saying.
"Check." The older man barked, although she noticed his thin lips twitched when the dark-brown gaze fell on his shorter companion.
"Here you go sirs." She smiled and handed the darker haired man the bill. The incredibly tall man (he must be over six feet, she thought with astonishment) looked down at the bill, scowling as he tipped the thin slip of paper this way and that. She frowned in confusion when the younger man laughed and pulled out a handful of change from the other man's coat pocket.
"The meal was great," he said by way of explanation as he added a generous tip. "It's our first time at a Mug--at a restaurant." She had been right; his voice was quite warm and inviting. While the other man's sent strange tingles down her spine. His voice sounded like... well, it felt like warm honey being poured on cool flesh and being licked off slowly. It was that pleasant.
She nodded in understanding. Obviously they didn't get out much. The older man didn't look like much of a social type. "I hope you come back!" she said, smiling at the tip they had left her.
"Oh, we will," the young man said, grinning brightly up at his lover before they turned and walked out. She tilted her head to the side, noticing the slight bulge around the shorter man's waist, obvious evidence of the other man's arm wrapped around the slim waist. She smiled again. Maybe she couldn't see what the young man saw in him, but she could see why he stayed.
-End-