Houston Knights, 1/?, pre-slash so far

[gilascave]

Title: The Vortex 1/?
Author: James
Pairing: Levon/Joe pre-slash
Rating: G
Sequel: to Storm at gila.fakingsanity.net/houston.html
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Summary: Levon is starting to settle into his new life after being fired.
Notes: for tittakv :-) I'm posting this here in snippets, as I write it. When it's done I'll polish and post to various lists.



The Vortex


Tonight was a slow night, by Vortex standards. Levon was behind the bar, working with Mark and Darrin. He liked working with Darrin -- he paid attention and worked fast, so patrons weren't left sniping at the bartender who came over to cover for someone who'd rather flirt with a customer than work.

Mark wasn't normally too bad, but on slow nights he'd spend more and more time standing at the end of the bar, talking to a pretty face. Levon and Darrin took up the slack because customers tipped the man serving them, not the man assigned to serve them. Trouble was, slow nights for the Vortex meant that they could take a break for five or ten minutes every so often.

Busy nights, they didn't take a break at all. When they were working essentially one bartender short, slow nights didn't feel slow at all. Levon handed over a couple glasses of beer and turned towards the guy who'd just stepped up to the bar.

"Can I--" he stopped, then grinned. "Hey, LaFiamma. What briings you here?"

"The fine wine," LaFiamma said dryly, leaning forward so he wouldn't have to shout above the music blaring over the sound system.

Levon reached under the counter -- a bottle of fancy red, which they kept for the very occassional wine drinker. He brought it out, and laughed at the expression on LaFiamma's face.

"You really have wine?" LaFiamma reached over and pulled the bottle towards himself, reading the label. Levon wasn't surpised by the look of disgust that followed. "Figures. Gimmie a beer."

"I won't bother asking what's wrong with the wine." Levon had probably heard it before. According to Joe, there wasn't a decent bottle of Italian wine to be found in the entire South. "Bottle or draft?"

"Bottle."

Levon went and grabbed a bottle of beer, half-tempted to try serving LaFiamma a cheap, watered-down beer just to annoy him. But he had another customer just stepping up to order, so he gave LaFiamma what he knew he'd want, and nodded at him to let him know he'd be right back.

It took about twenty minutes, but finally Levon went back to where Joe was sitting. "Hey. Saw you turn down a couple nice-looking offers," Levon teased, referring to the guys who'd come up to Joe.

"Didn't come here to dance," LaFiamma retorted.

"That what they were asking?" Levon gave him a surprised look.

LaFiamma gave him a half-sneer. "I didn't come here for that, either."

Levon leaned over the bar, and told him, "Boy, you come to the wrong place if you just wanna sit there and drink."

The Vortex, while not the rowdiest of Ramon's three clubs, wasn't exactly a quiet place to sit and nurse a beer. Men came here for two reasons; only one of which was encouraged on the dancefloor. When LaFiamma had called The Vortex a 'nice place', he'd meant that the club didn't have back rooms. There was still the bathroom, of course, but generally guys who hooked up, left the club to do their business elsewhere.

LaFiamma was smirking at him. "How about if I came here for a drink, and to harrass the bartender?"

"Sounds good to me." Levon turned around. "Hey, Mark! Get over here!" He gave LaFiamma a wink, as Levon got back to work. Mark, looking a little confused, nevertheless was headed over to LaFiamma. As he went past, Levon said in Mark's ear, "Get his phone number."

Not because he didn't have Joe's number -- and ceretainly not because he was trying to hook Joe up. But Mark deserved a bit of trouble, and trying to get Joe's phone number off him, would do it.

And if it didn't, Levon could yell at Joe, and that would be fun, too.