Several weeks rolled on down the populated street of Emil's intoxicated- no, infatuated, albeit silently obsessed- mind. Every passing day that was spent in his crush's proximity was comparable to the unrequited love type of torture. Okay, torture might not be the correct word; something close to that degree, though.

The sneaky smirks, the accidental bumps in the kitchen, the longing stares that did not accompany any sign of actual confessions or commitments.

All of the subtleties that he took back to his bedroom and poured into his journal. Like a variety of colorful acrylics spilling onto a blank canvas- abstract yet perverse images surfacing but unintelligible to the naked eye.

What was an eighteen year old supposed to do in this situation?

Ding!

Emil glanced over at the text message notification that lit up his locked screen.

I need you to come to work early. We have a meeting at 8:30 PM. Do not be late.

Sighing out as he picked it up, he thought about what he wanted to say. Well, there wasn't much to say to that except a simple:

OK.

Placing the phone down, his pen connected with the blank, eggshell colored page of his journal; leaving controlled, blue streaks of cursive in its tracks.

His arms flexed lightly when he pulled off his shirt the other day. I want to be held in those arms so badly. Luckily, he didn't notice me watching…

A light strawberry tint dusted over his cheeks when his ballpoint bounced three times.

It was a beautiful sight. I just want him so badly- to touch him, feeling the softness off his skin and the ridges of his biceps that will tense as he kisses me passionately.

A wistful smile tugged at his lips; fantasies about their idealistic, romantic future together, despite the fact that they live together as… as roommates.

As soon as the dreamy thought embraced his imagination, the reality hit him like a ton of bricks and smothered his mood.

It hurts to see Mathias hang on him and I really... well, I really want to say something, but for some reason, my voice won't come out. How is it so easy for that annoying guy to confidently express what I'm dying to say to Lukas?

Pressing down the ballpoint into the paper, his brows lowered angrily and he couldn't shake off the feeling.

They are more than friends. Mathias… A grimace climbed on top of his lips as he wrote, he thinks he is so cool. Ugh, why would you want to be around him so much, Lukas? What does he have that I don't?

An alarming knock against his locked bedroom door caused a thunderous thud against the hardwood desk. The wheels of his desk chair swiftly reversed and the written secrets were thrown into its hiding place.

"Hey, Emil?"

"Lu-Lukas?" He stuttered out, wide-eyed, wild hands fanning his reddening cheeks as he nearly tripped over the circular rug to answer the securely locked door. He was so emotionally caught up in what he was doing that the world around him had evaporated.

"Hey, there's a new anime that came out a few days ago. Would you…" Lukas cleared his throat when he trailed off, "would you like to join me?"

Frozen in bewilderment, Emil hesitated as he struggled to register what his roommate offered.

"Uhm," he spoke softly as he shuffled in place behind the closed door, "I…"

There was a pregnant pause of silence between them yet Emil's thoughts fired off uncontrollably.

What should I say? How am I supposed to respond to that? I really want to but… what if he thinks that I like him? That'd be very bad since we are roommates after all.

"Emil?" Lukas probed softly and looked down at his feet. Maybe he's not interested in building a friendship between me?

Lukas bit his lip, straightened up, chin held high, and spoke up again with a purpose. "We should spend time together since we have lived together for a while now."

Say something Emil! Of course, Lukas… I would love nothing more than to cuddle up with you on the couch. I want to do that!

"Uhm… sure?" Emil's voice cracked at his uncertainty, shaky fists clenched. Mentally facepalming at his diffidence, he relaxed at Lukas's soothing, modulated voice; luckily grabbing him from his current cringe.

"Okay, then," a feather light smile was veiled behind the door, "I'll start up the show."

Awkwardly sitting as far away as possible from the other end of the plush sofa, Emil tightened his caramel colored throw blanket around his ridged shoulders.

The brightness of the living room dramatically darkened once Lukas shut the sliding door blinds.

After settling down close to the other, he switched on the television and pressed on the Netflix icon. Scrolling through the movies and shows, he swiftly glanced over to Emil.

Contemplative, dreamy, lavender orbs regarded him, which contradicted the expansive distance between them on the sofa.

Emil flinched noticeably and turned away at being caught, but Lukas returned a soft gaze before refocusing on the task at hand. He inwardly chuckled at how cute Emil looked when he was flustered.

After the first episode ended, Emil peeped at his cellphone to check for any messages. There was a text from an unknown sender.

Hey what's up?

Sighing lightly and tucking the phone away, he caught a sprinkle of concern in those familiar eyes staring back at him in his peripheral vision.

"I… I'm just checking something. I mean, nothing bad… Is something wrong? You… why are you staring?" Emil stumbled over his words and tightened the slackened blanket around him to guard himself from Lukas's prying eyes.

"Oh?" Lukas shook off his deadpan facial expression before turning his attention back to the television when the next episode started. "I was just lost in thought is all."

Emil nibbled on his bottom lip before picking up his phone, "I need to use the restroom- just tell me what happens?"

"Alright." His eyes studied Emil's footsteps towards the bathroom.

Once Emil was in the safety of their shared bathroom, he huffed out before splashing his face with chilled water. Looking up as his hands dragged down his exasperated face, he blew harshly between pouty lips.

"Ugh, why can't I be normal for once? Why…?" Emil mumbled to his reflection and exhaled deeply as he grabbed the hand towel to dry his damp face and hands.

His eyes scanned over the text message twice before he responded.

Who is this?

Who do u think?

Emil gulped as his hands trembled. He had an inkling of who might be contacting him. Well, who else could it be?

You have the wrong number.

I miss u.

Frowning at this text message, Emil pressed the contact information option and blocked the number.

"I have other issues at hand," he reminded himself as he opened his internet browser, "I don't need my past haunting me."

Searching through his phone for answers, his thumbs bounced and glided against the screen.

What to do when you have a crush on your roommate and they probably don't feel the same way because you're an idiot for even thinking this was ok in the first place?

He erased what he typed in and pocketed his cellphone before exiting the bathroom.

Lukas peered up from the animated action scene on the flat screen and paused it at Emil's brooding expression.

Trying to make light of the unusually heavy ambience, Lukas teased him.

"I thought you fell in the toilet."

Emil pursed his lips and curtained his fleeting blush with his bangs, or at least tried to in vain.

Wheezing out in disbelief, he realized that Lukas's body was stretched out across the sofa. His legs were so slender yet muscular, lengthy, breathtaking. His eyes greedily studied from his light strawberry knees to the edge of his black shorts and then between his thighs and-

His mouth gaped open slightly and then closed as he gulped down a nervous breath. There was nowhere for him to sit down.

"I think you are in the way…?" He shifted from one foot to the other. His focus swayed side to side, avoiding the urge to watch Lukas fold and return back to an upright position.

Emil prepared to sit down, but Lukas swiftly laid down again to deter him from claiming his original spot.

"Hey!" He huffed out, "I just want to sit down." The pent up excitement in his chest erased any hints of irritation from his face.

"Well, there's a chair right there," he gestured over at the recliner and then an unexpected coyness spread across his lips, "or you can sit by… me?"

Emil nearly jumped out of his skin at what Lukas said in a -dare he say it- coquettish tone of voice.

"I-I'll just sit in the chair instead. I'm sorry!" Emil flung himself over to sit in the recliner and refused to say a word. He could not believe that his roommate just flirted with him. Invited him to be close!

Wait, what if I'm just overreacting?

He chanced a glance at Lukas when he wasn't looking and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

What if that's what roommates say to each other?

Turning his eyes away from Lukas's side profile, he focused on the moving pictures.

What if that is just him wanting to be friends in some weird way? What if-

The sound of the characters on the television having a heated discussion drowned out his thoughts and pushed himself out of his little world of vexatious 'what ifs'.

Lukas started to space out after some time; reflecting on how Emil reacted to his suggestion. He surely didn't take the bait, thus concluding that he wasn't interested in anything more than a professional relationship.

Lukas could not lie to himself- well, yes he could, but the rejection was a damper on his mood. Shrugging off the troublesome feeling, he nestled into the sofa and pivoted his attention to the episode.

Maybe he's not interested? Should I back off? I really thought that he felt similar feelings for me. Maybe I judged it too soon.

Lukas hummed to himself, leaning forward to remove himself from the living room in search of a snack to nibble on until Emil surrendered to stop binge watching his favorite anime show. Realization dawned upon him, sending a warm smile across his face.

Later that evening, fitted black trousers traveled up over a pair of slender thighs and a clean button up covered his torso. A black tie fastened haphazardly around his neck after flapping on a black vest. His fingers tousled his bedhead, ashen locks and a spritz of cologne finished him off.

It was nearing the time that Lars had demanded him- yes, demanded, because his boss was stickler about time management- to show up for their meeting.

Pushing his way past the door, he noticed a few regulars drowning in booze. One of them in particular called out his name and blew him a kiss, which made Emil grimace when the man turned around to flirt with his female coworker.

No thanks.

Blatantly dismissing the unwanted affection, Emil found himself staring up into a pair of stern, emerald orbs and a tight lipped smirk.

"We're just waiting on Vlad," his voice perturbed, "he's a slow ass."

Not even five seconds later, Vlad swaggered through the door with a reputable confidence surrounding him. Everyone whistled, waved, and cheered when he walked past them. He was everyone's favorite bartender.

Lars guided the two bartenders to the back near his office and planted his hands on his hips.

"I don't know who did it," his eyes drifted from Emil and lingered on Vlad, "but I do not want anyone getting free drinks. Everyone pays. Every time."

Emil followed the rules, so he knew that it was Vlad under the spotlight. The intensity of the meeting made Emil's stomach turn. Vlad was sneaky and unjust; that made him feel differently than before- in a bad way, that is.

"That's all. Now, get to work. It's Saturday, so it's going to be busy. I expect both of you to not disappoint me."

"Really?" Lukas asked in displeasure, arching his brows at the only extrovert he had enough patience to be around.

"Lukas, ya been cooped up here all week." Mathias grinned from ear to ear as he coerced the Norwegian into wearing something other than his pajamas or comfort clothing. "Ya need to go out and let the money run out."

"So, your solution is alcohol?" He tugged on a dark violet hoodie over his towel dried hair.

Mathias responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You're gonna be an alcoholic if you keep drinking alcohol," he stated matter-of-factly to his best friend.

Swinging his bicep around Lukas's neck, he guided them both into the bathroom. "I know a good place. Trust me on this one, Lukie!"

The shorter man shrugged Mathias away from him and searched for his hairdryer to style his soft, blonde locks. Afterwards, he pinned back the left side of his hair and secured it tightly with his beloved crosspin.

"Yeah," he drawled out as he flipped off the main light, "remind me not to believe you next time if you screw up. Like last time."

Chuckling innocently, Mathias rubbed the back on his head at the memory. Lukas rolled his eyes and shook his head as he grabbed his wallet and keys from the hallway table.

"Subway or...?" Lukas asked briefly after closing the door behind them.

Without missing a beat, "Why not? I'll save on gas."

Lukas gave him a 'really?' look and let out his trademark scoff.

"Mathias. You drive a moped."

"And that moped has been loyal to me," Mathias reasoned assuringly while they started walking in the direction of the subway station.

"Besides, I'm getting wasted tonight!"

Facepalming, Lukas muttered next to him as the subway arrived to a screeching halt. "You better not end up on social media in the morning."

"Emil, I need more lemons and limes!" Vlad demanded over the hammering club music; muscles flexing under rolled up white sleeves as he shook a mixer up and down vigorously above his shoulder.

"Here!" Emil shouted back, yanking out two extra cases of sliced lemons and limes after snatching a hefty tip left behind for him.

He made sure to prepare beforehand when it was slow. There was no way that Vlad was going to have the upper hand and make him look like an incompetent amateur.

"Oi, bartender!" Emil swiveled around on his heel after serving a tipsy customer a large glass of iced water.

Graceful steps approached the unfamiliar customer. He had blonde hair, british accent, and unkempt brows that looked like they were painted on with an abused, bristle brush.

He gave a questioning look, slamming his forearms against the counter to lean forward and catch his order over the deafening music. His trained ears deciphered the heavy accent and nodded swiftly before he accepted the British man's credit card to open a tab.

Swipe it under seat 6. Tall. Coke. Whiskey. On the rocks. He chanted inwardly as he dialed in the information and stored the credit card in his compact, blue credit card holder.

A couple waved Emil over before he could grab a tall glass and he acknowledged them. They smiled at him and nodded twice at him as he threw together the simple drink.

Placing down the glass, he made his way over to the couple and opened a tab for them as well and satisfied their orders.

Vlad effortlessly served a group of five girls and flirted with them as they downed their shots of top shelf vodka. Their bills individually were skyrocketing and their inhibitions were deteriorating. Quickly pouring them glasses of water with light ice, he grinned at his regulars at the end of the bar.

"Isn't this where Emil works?" Lukas's heartbeat sped up to the thumping of the club music as they got in the relatively short line of skimpy clad girls and cologne bathed guys.

Berwald flashed a flashlight against their IDs and ushered them into the club. Mathias nodded over his broad shoulder and guided them over towards a hardworking Emil shaking a mixer over his shoulder. He poured the alcohol into three overflowing ice cubed glasses. The trio cheered as they clanged their glasses and sipped on the concoction.

"Emil!" Mathias's voice boomed over the music, motioning him over to take care of them. He was swamped with customers calling him in different directions. Vlad noticed this and decided to waltz over to Mathias and Lukas.

Vlad's pupils dilated and his brows arched at the beauty sitting next to the obnoxious loudmouth.

Who is that? Vlad smirked with a wink at Lukas. Lukas turned away from Vlad's blunt flirting and stared at Emil's moving form in the distance. He was being tugged from one side of the bar to the next, but seemed to keep his cool rather well.

"What're we drinking?" He asked as he leaned forward in Lukas's direction, looking over to Mathias and then back to Lukas.

Mathias shook his head at Vlad and pointed at Emil, "We want Emil."

Vlad gave an irritated look, dejected for a moment before smiling sweetly. "He's busy. I'll help you out. What do you want to drink?" This time he directed the question at Lukas.

Lukas opened his mouth, but Vlad cut him off as he reached forward to touch Lukas's hand resting on the counter. "It's on the house… for you."

"Emil, come over 'ere!" Mathias was persistent now, glaring at Vlad's bold actions towards Lukas.

Swiping another credit card and organizing it in the plastic organizer, Emil poured six shots for a trio and rushed over to Mathias. The view of Lukas was blocked off with Vlad standing in the way.

"I got them," Emil shooed his coworker away and hitched his thumb over his shoulder, "I think you had some regulars on the far right."

Vlad shoved past Emil purposefully in the opposite direction and pranced over towards the elated faces with a pep in his step.

"Emil," Mathias's body leaned to the right with hardened eyes following his new target, "Do I need to fight someone after work?"

"No, no!" Emil frantically waved his hands in front of his chest. The last thing he needed was confrontation and conflict in his workplace.

Lukas was glad that Mathias spoke up what he wanted to say. Vlad was out of line; his behavior was not acceptable in any way, shape, or form.

"Let me open a tab. Get me a short gin and tonic on the rocks," Mathias handed Emil his thick, golden credit card, "and Lukas will get a glass of Zinfandel."

Emil mouthed an 'okay' and spun around to dash over to swipe the credit card and opened a tab for his friends. He didn't like to label them as friends since Mathias was his rival and Lukas was his crush.

Short glass. Ice. Gin. Okay, that's enough. He poured a little extra for Mathias and grabbed the soda/water hose, pressing down on the tonic button and watched as it filled up. Two, skinny red straws stabbed themselves between the shifting ice cubes.

Chilled wine glass. Zinfandel. A medium sweet red wine. His hand grabbed the bottle of desired wine. I know he likes Pink Moscato more. Typical of Mathias to assume. Filling it past the nine ounces marker etched into the wine glass, he set both drinks down on blue coasters in front of them respectively.

"Cheers!" Wasting no time to finish his mixed drink, Mathias ordered a bucket of beers for the both of them before the young bartender could step away.

His hands snatched six beer bottles from the towering fridge, thrusted them into the bucket, and shoveled ice into it. The tops snagged off with multiple hisses and pops.

Lukas watched Emil; impressed with his dexterity in bartending. Sipping on the wine, he scrunched his nose at the taste. It was not his favorite, but he wasn't complaining. It was sweet enough.

Once Emil placed the bucket of beers down, his feet scurried over to cash out three customers waving him down. He made sure all of them were satisfied and printed out their receipts with a pen readily available with their assigned credit cards.

By the time Lukas finished the wine and started on his first beer, Mathias drained four of the six beers. He was swaying side to side in the black, leather cushioned barstool. He slipped off of the stool and grabbed Lukas by his arm unceremoniously.

"Lukas, huh… hurry up and finish it!" Mathias heaved out over a drunken chuckle. "Let's dance. I don' wanna… wanna sit 'ere ...all night!"

Yeah. He was trashed, but not completely gone… yet.

Begrudgingly, Lukas gulped the remainder of the bottle and stood up as he was pulled relentlessly away from the bar and over to the dance floor. Dancing was fine and dandy in the privacy of his apartment, but once he passed that threshold- well, he could care less about judging himself. He relaxed, eyes slid partially shut, tossing his hips side to side to the pumping music. It had been a while since he unravelled.

Mathias parted ways from Lukas and grinded against a few girls in the crowd. He was shameless and wanton while intoxicated, but he was the life of the party.

The music stopped abruptly, signaling Tino's queue to announce the last call for alcohol. His bright, violet eyes travelled over to where Lukas was awkwardly dancing by himself near the wall and rejecting anyone who attempted to graze their hands over him.

Why is this guy looking so familiar? His hands jerked up and down to hype up the beat of a popular tune. Shrugging it off, he grinned at two people having a final dance off in the center of the floor. People pulled out their cellphones, capturing the dance scene before their hazy visions.

By the end of the night, Mathias conquered a few phone numbers and kisses from the tipsy women and a few men. His presence was as intoxicating as the crowd he was jamming with all evening.

Berwald ushered the drunkards out of the club after they paid their bartenders. Sweat beaded at Emil's forehead as Mathias's lipstick kisses cheeks appeared before him and a swaying Norwegian folded over the bar counter.

"Here," Emil handed the printed receipt in front of the Dane and a black ballpoint pen.

Mathias's vision was hazy as he scribbled down a deliciously large total and left the tip area blank.

"'Ey, Emil! Left ya good one! Do the maths, 'kay?" Emil nodded, accepting the merchant copy and his eyes widened. It was a little over a fifty dollar tip!

"Mathias, I think you-" But Mathias wasn't listening to it when he rose his hand in the air.

"Emil, yer... uh, a hard worker, y'know?" Lukas complimented him and handed him two twenty dollar bills. He unconsciously moistened his lips before smirking at Emil.

"I can't." He felt bad that they were tipping him higher than any of his regulars. "Lukas, please-"

"Do ya wan' us t' stay 'til ya get off?" Lukas cut Emil off and snorted before letting out an uncharacteristic giggle.

Emil blushed three shades of red at his roommate's unconcealed concern and bold flirtiness.

It's just the alcohol talking. Chill out, Emil!

"No, that's okay. Really, Lukas, I'll be here until past three..." Clearing his throat as he schooled a serious expression, his eyes pointed at the goofy drunkard next to his beloved. "Just watch after this one."

Mathias and Lukas stumbled out of the club moments before Tino scrambled over to the entrance. Berwald sent his boyfriend an expectant look.

"Somethin' wrong?" Tino shook his head nervously as Berwald's hand swallowed his thin shoulder.

"That guy looks familiar, is all." Berwald glanced over at the clumsy pair walking down the sidewalk; the streetlamp outside blaring against his spectacles.

"Bad company, Tino." He muttered loud enough for only them to hear. He looked down at Tino, "Go back. I'll 'elp y' out." He blushed at his protective lover and trusted his astuteness.