Chapter Text
Friday night shifts usually meant good things for Chance. The crowd tonight will be fun, with everyone shaking off their work weeks and relaxing before the weekend. The Sonnellino boys usually pick Fridays to visit too, and they were Chance's favourite people to deal cards for.
Chance can't really find the energy to look forward to that right now.
There's plenty of reasons why - they didn't sleep well again the night before, he lost his favourite pair of shades and had to resort to a pair that don't work as well, and it's been a whole five days since he got to ogle at Guest 1337 in a suit. Frankly, that's criminal.
Chance is not sure how much longer they can take this, really. They've spent the hour before the bar opened for the night sitting at the bar, mourning their sanity.
He knows that he tends to fall hard and fast when it came to relationships, but they're pretty sure this is the worst they've ever gone about it. Chance is used to being the pursuer, the one who starts the flirting and moves in first for the kiss. Guest, somehow, completely obliterated their ability to be suave.
He's just so…honest. He's an open book, he makes his intentions clear. Chance is used to having to jump through hoops to get a single straight answer out of people, and here's this beautiful, buff man who will talk to them honestly and look at them like they're worth something to him. Chance is going to keel over at this rate.
Of course, Elliot bumps the kitchen door open with his hip the exact same moment Chance lets his head drop to the bartop with a groan. After depositing a cardboard box of soda cans on the floor, Elliot sidles over to where Chance is sitting and pats him on the head.
"There, there. Let it all out." Elliot coos condescendingly, only breaking into giggles when Chance reaches up to smack his hand away. Elliot just snorts and steps away to start unpacking the soda cans into the minifridge under the counter. While he works, he glances up at Chance again. "Are you like, okay? Is the bar just that interesting that you have to stare at it up close?"
When Chance still doesn't reply, Elliot finally stands up and walks back over again. "Hello? Roblox to Chance, do you copy?"
"Not now, Elliot." they finally reply, sitting back up just to tilt their head back in exasperation.
Elliot makes a concerned noise, dropping the teasing tone. "Hey, I'm sorry. What's wrong?"
Chance sighs, tilting forward again and propping his arms on the table, dropping his head into his hands. "It's nothing. Just… tired."
"Bullshit, tired Chance still likes to playfight. What's wrong, did something happen?"
"No, no." They do a vague hand-wavey gesture. "Nothing happened. Just thinkin'."
"About…?"
"Dumb shit, nothin' to worry about."
"That's just an average Tuesday, what's different this time?"
Chance averts his eyes, blowing a raspberry. "Nothing's different, I swear!"
"And I'm sure the fact you've been glancing at the door like a widow for the past hour has nooothing to do with it."
Fuck!
"Mmmaybe I'm just looking for the Sonnellinos?"
"Do you realize how little that helps your case."
They go to defend themselves, but the most they manage to get out is a garbled noise and more frantic hand waving. Elliot just stares at them with a flat, vaguely amused expression.
"If you don't tell me I will start hitting you with the washcloth."
Chance throws his hands up in surrender. "Alright! No need to resort to threats!"
"So? What's on your mind?" Elliot mirrors his pose on the other side of the bar, propping his head up on his elbows and blinking innocently at them.
They sigh, and let their hands fall to their lap. "I… fuck, I just miss Guest today, okay?"
Elliot's brow furrows. "Yeah, fork found in kitchen, but your gay yearning doesn't usually leave you looking so anxious. Seriously, what's bothering you?"
Stop noticing things!
When Chance doesn't immediately reply again, Elliot heaves a sigh and turns towards the shelves of liquor. Before they know it, he's sliding a shotglass of something clear over to him.
"Do this, then talk. Loosen up."
Chance takes the little shotglass and without hesitation slams it back. Liquid fire pours down his throat, and he's coughing and spluttering before it registers that Elliot just poured him straight, unflavoured vodka with no warning. After a minute of recovery and barely restrained laughter, Chance glares up at Elliot with teary eyes.
"What the fuck did you just give me."
"I dunno, just grabbed the nearest bottle. Now, talk."
"Fine, fuck." Chance scrubs his hands over his face. Unfortunately, Elliot's idea with the shot was working, because talking didn't feel so difficult anymore. "I really wanna ask Guest out but I don't think it's a good idea."
"Why would it be a bad idea? You're both into each other, no?" Elliot puts away the bottle of liquor he had grabbed, and returns to the box of sodas. "Just like, ask him to go get a coffee or something."
"He's so…" Chance flaps his hands around for a second, trying to find the words. "…I don't know, perfect? He's the best guy to ever want me and I just feel like I'd be dragging him down!"
Before Elliot can get a word in, Chance keeps rambling, "Every partner I've had so far has turned out to be a right fuckin' asshole, and the last one tried to kill me, and at this point I honestly think that might just be what I deserve. No fuckin' way I score Guest and actually keep him, he's far too good for me." Their voice begins to waver slightly. "I'm gonna end up scaring him off with all my bullshit and then, I don't know what I'd do, maybe finally k-"
They really should've expected the washcloth hitting him in the face.
"Nope. Nuh-uh. None of that." Despite his words, Elliot looks genuinely shaken. "Stop with all that shit, you know better."
"I - sorry," Chance shakes his head to clear his head, then refocuses on the bartop. "It's true though."
Elliot grabs his jaw and forces them to make eyecontact with him. "Dude. No. Aside from all of that you just said, Guest has literally seen people die. Like, on a battlefield. Anything you hit him with is not going to scare him off."
Chance suddenly feels very, very dumb.
"I know you were hurt before, I was there, but you are allowed to move on! You deserve someone like Guest, whether or not you believe it. I swear to Telamon you are allowed to have a nice boyfriend."
"Okay, okay, I hear you."
"Do you?!" Elliot lightly slaps him on the cheek, his voice raising in pitch. "I haven't heard you say scary shit like that in forever, what the fuck, man?"
Chance glances away, embarrassed. Truthfully, they don't know why they said that, or where the thought even came from. Maybe it came from the increase in nightmares he's been having, or it's just their brain being dumb and spitting out whatever random thought will upset him the most.
They haven't wanted to do that in almost a year, thank-you-very-much.
There's a beat of silence, with Elliot's hand still on Chance's jaw. Chance still avoids eye contact, despite feeling Elliot's glare burning a hole in his head. Elliot finally sighs and lets his hand drop from Chance's face.
"Do you know how fucking cute you two are together?"
For a second, Chance is genuinely caught off guard. His eyes flick over to Elliot, and they make a confused noise.
"Like," Elliot fumbles his words for a second. "You're both constantly looking at each other. Not just your gay ass -" Chance interrupts with an offended hey! " - but he's also always looking at you. And like, you don't see it, but he's so stoic when you're not in the room! Then you walk in and he comes to life like he's a puppet and someone's just picked up the wooden cross thing to make him move."
"…You're kidding."
"Dude. Both of you light up. It's sickening." Despite his words, Elliot's tone is fond.
They want to deny it. They really, really do. However, their trust in Elliot outweighs their own self depreciation, and unfortunately he's certain Elliot is right. And despite what he thinks, Chance is not entirely blind. They'd noticed Guest opening up to him, sure, but Chance had honestly convinced himself it was just their own wishful thinking. Chance doesn't attract good people like Guest, obviously, they only draw in people who see him as easy prey.
Guest has proved that wrong, and Elliot's confirmation of that fact eases the pressing anxiety in their chest a little.
Elliot grabs Chance by the shoulders and gently shakes them back and forth. "He wants you. You want him. He can handle your fucked-up-ness. Stop being dumb."
They're both quiet again for a moment, but this time the tension in the air has ebbed. Finally, Chance lets his head drop forward.
"I - I'm sorry, Ellie. Didn't mean to scare ya'."
Elliot's expression softens, and suddenly Chance is being pulled into a hug with a surprised squeak.
"And I'm sorry for yelling at you. Not for the washcloth, you earned that."
Chance gives him a teary laugh - when did I start crying? - and returns the hug. When he subtly attempts to wipe his eyes under his glasses, Elliot graciously pretends not to notice and squeezes them tighter.
"You're amazing. Don't let your brain convince you otherwise." Elliot mumbles into his shoulder. Chance just nods in reply.
The moment is broken by Elliot's phone buzzing in his pocket.
"Who the hell is texting me right now," Elliot asks flatly, reaching to pull it out and clicking the screen on. His eyes briefly widen when he reads the screen, and before Chance can snoop and see who it is he pockets the phone again.
"Alright, I have to deal with that. I love you, don't do anything dumb." Elliot squeezes him one last time, then darts behind the bar and into the kitchen.
Left to their own devices once more, Chance returns to the topic that's been eating them alive - do they actually want to try and pursue Guest? Actually, genuinely try to date him. Not just lighthearted flirting, not just staring at him during worknights.
What if this ends the same way as last time? What if I don't beat the odds again?
What if he hurts me like iTra - He wouldn't do that to me.
For a second, Chance is taken aback at how strongly they believe that.
…Well, shit. Guess this is real.
Chance's train of thought is cut off by a loud shatter, followed immediately by Elliot yelping. Before they can call out to him, though, Elliot yells from the kitchen.
"I'm fine! Don't worry, just dropped something!"
Chance snorts. "Alright, whatever ya say, Ellie!"
Time to get ready to open the bar, I guess.
"Oh, she's so cute, you're kidding me!"
Beaming with pride, Guest swipes to the next photo on his phone. Elliot leans over the bar to get a better look at Guest's phone, while Chance stands behind him resisting the urge to drop their chin on his shoulder. The only thing stopping them, aside from their fraying self-restraint, is Bubby's dark eyes staring at him from the floor beside Guest's feet. As if to say if you startle him right now I will kick your ass. At least, that's what Chance takes it as.
"The trophy's almost as big as her, poor thing almost got taken out trying to walk down the steps after the ceremony." Guest zooms in on the photo, and Elliot makes a cooing noise that Chance wants to make fun of so bad.
On any other night, they would with no regrets. Tonight, though, Chance can't help but notice that Elliot is acting fucking weird. Elliot isn't usually weird - he's kind, or annoying, or any other normal adjective. Elliot is never weird.
He's spent the entire night trying to not stare at them, any time he leaves his office to mingle. He keeps pacing back and forth behind the bar, and Chance saw him nearly start vibrating when they'd stolen a moment during Guest's break to hang out. If Chance didn't know any better (which, really, he doesn't,) they would say Elliot seems excited.
Not sure what he's gonna get up to at 5 in the morning, but that is not my issue.
There's still an hour until closing, and Chance has finished all his boring paperwork of the night already, so when Elliot leaves them to go tend to a customer Chance slides into the seat beside Guest.
"So…how's the little scientist holding up now that she doesn't have her project to worry about constantly?"
With a tired laugh, Guest clicks his phone off and places it face down on the bar.
"It's like she doesn't know what to do with herself anymore. With her school year wrapping up soon too, she's just a ball of energy," He leans back to stretch, and Chance fights to not stare at the sliver of exposed skin from his shirt pulling up. "Y'know - she loves coming here with me in the afternoons, it's like half of what she asks for nowadays."
"Wait, really? I can't imagine a bar is that interesting to a ten year old."
"She likes you guys a lot! You're like, her favourite person in the world right now."
Chance can't help but make a flustered noise at that. "What - me?! How am I the favourite!?"
"You're really sweet with her, Chance." Guest says, his voice softening just enough to make Chance's stomach do a flip.
Attempting to recover, Chance looks away and scoffs. "And it has nothing to do with the Spade pictures?"
"…That's the other main reason, yes."
They snort out a laugh, and before long theyre both giggling like schoolchildren. In the quiet moment after their laughter dies out, Chance steals a glance over at Guest and finds his look being returned. When he notices Chance looking at him, Guest's smile softens, and suddenly the floor falls out from underneath them.
If they were being honest with themselves, Chance had assumed that Elliot was exaggerating when he claimed Guest 'lit up' around him. But here, with Guest's pale skin still flushed from laughter and his eyes crinkled with affection, Chance understands what Elliot meant. The man before him is almost glowing. Chance briefly feels insecure, breaking eye contact with a startled laugh, but truthfully he is flustered beyond belief.
Him? He's actually looking at me like that? Holy fuck.
His hands ball up in his lap, shoulders tensed. Despite the reassurances Elliot gave him, there's still a small but very loud part of him that struggles to believe this is real. That someone would want him, genuinely, with no ulterior motives. But then Guest hums under his breath in question, and that spiral dissipates as quickly as it began.
Chance shakes his arms out, burning off the nervous energy that just hit him like a truck, and turns back to Guest as if nothing happened. Being hit with the full force of that loving gaze burns just as much as before, but Chance pretends not to notice.
Before Chance can laugh off what just happened, Guest speaks up.
"Do you think you'd ever want kids one day?"
Chance inhales so sharply they choke on air for a second.
"I - aughgh?!" They splutter, too surprised to disguise their blush. "I mean - yeah? Probably?? Where did this come from?"
"Just curious." Guest smiles at him as if he didn't just detonate a nuke in Chance's brain, then slaps his palms on the bar and moves to stand up. "Well, duty calls. I've got to get back to my post. See you later this evening, Chance."
Chance stares at Guest's retreating form with a distressed expression. After a moment, they drop their head into their hands with a barely suppressed groan.
Why are you both being so fucking weird tonight?!
"Chance! Wait a sec!"
Chance pauses, hand hovering in front of the door he was just about to lock. He turns to see Elliot leaning over the bar, dishrag in hand, staring at him expectantly. If he had a tail, Chance is sure that it'd be wagging hard enough to be a weapon.
"Yeah? What's up?"
Elliot nearly leaps over the bar and slams the bar's business bank card into his hand, making Chance drop their keys. They make an offended noise, but Elliot continues before he can say anything.
"Need you to run up to the cornerstore. Now. ASAP."
Crouching to grab his keys again, Chance scoffs. "What do you need so badly that you're assaulting me for it?"
Another item is shoved into his face. "Here's a list."
"Could this not wait for daytime?" He snatches the piece of paper and scans the list, noting that it's mostly random kitchen ingredients.
"Nope."
Straighening up, Chance shoots him a puzzled look. "Are…you sure?"
Elliot's nearly trembling with excitement at this point, his foot tapping incessantly on the hardwood floor. "Yes! Yes I'm sure! Now go!!!"
He grabs Chance by the shoulders, spins him around, and practically shoves him out the glass doors. Chance turns to look at him one last time, but Elliot simply gestures for them to leave and then scurries off behind the bar once more.
What the hell is his problem? Chance takes a moment to straighten out his suit jacket and pocket the card and grocery list. There's no harm in getting some cardio, I guess.
He had hoped that the cool morning air would bring clarity, but all it does really is make him cold. Chance pulls his jacket tighter across his front as he walks, his shoes clicking quietly on the pavement. With it being just after 5 in the morning, the sun hasn't quite started to rise yet, so the street was bathed in a dark blue. Other than Lady Luck's, the only other place lit up nearby was the cornerstore, and Chance doesn't waste any time beelining inside.
The list, it turns out, is mostly an assortment of random sodas and juices Elliot must be running low on. Probably Charlotte's fault. Silently dreading dragging bags of 2-litres back to the bar, Chance busies himself with grabbing items whilst letting his mind wander.
Chance has his moments, but he is not a stupid person. They can tell Elliot's planning something in the bar. What that is, however, evades them. Their birthday isn't anytime soon, and there's no other special events involving him coming up, so the best Chance can come up with is some sort of prank. Or Elliot wanted him gone to, like, rob the cash registers or something.
…Probably a prank.
Though, the more Chance thinks about it, the less sense that theory makes. Elliot's not that type of person, if he's going to mess with you he'll do it then and there. He's not really the pranking type, anyways.
With no other theories remaining, Chance gives up on speculating and starts heaving his haul of soda bottles to the register.
This fucking guy sends me on a quest to get shit for him and doesn't have the courtesy to be here when I return?!
Chance had opted to enter through the back alley, hoping Elliot would still be there to help him put the bottles away, but they are sorely disappointed to find the kitchen squeaky clean and very empty. After dumping the plastic bags on the counter - Elliot's punishment is having room temperature soda tomorrow night - Chance figures he may as well double check that the bar's locked up for the day before heading home.
To his surprise, though - he's not the last person in the bar this morning.
Most of the lights are off, the rest of the bar cleaned and packed away for the day, but standing in the middle of the lit dance floor is Guest. He's still dressed in his work suit, his hair having been re-styled at some point recently. His arms are tucked behind his back, but when his dark eyes land on Chance he extends his good hand with a soft smile.
"Chance. Care to join me?"
Chance briefly wonders if they're dreaming. They almost go to pinch themselves, but not even in his dreams would he imagine Guest looking at him with so much anxiety. The other man's eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his posture tense and one of his feet tapping incessantly on the floor.
Despite how strange this is, though, they don't hesitate for more than a few seconds before walking closer to take Guest's hand.
"What…aha, what's all this about?" They ask, trying to keep his voice from wavering.
Guest laughs lightly under his breath. "Indulge me, please."
While Chance blushes so hard he gets light-headed, Guest turns to look over his shoulder. It's only then that they notice Bubby, whose been sitting beside one of the speakers for who-knows-how-long, watching the pair of them expectantly.
"Bubby, button, please." Guest commands, and Bubby turns and nudges one of the buttons on the speaker with his nose. Slow, jazzy music begins to play, and Chance gets struck with a strong sense of deja-vu. Is this the same song as -
Guest turns back to him, now slightly flushed with embarrassment. "Can I have this dance, Chance?"
This is it. I'm going to die today.
Chance has his moments of stupidity, they won't deny that, but he is not completely braindead. When Guest takes his hands and arranges them into a dancing position, he knows what's coming. They want to deny it so, so bad, but Guest slowly starts to move the pair in a swaying motion and Chance fights back the urge to cry because this is really happening.
"Y'know, Chance…" Guest begins, pausing to collect his thoughts. Chance can't take their eyes off of his face, desperately looking for any sign of deceit. "…You're one of the best people I've ever met."
When Chance doesn't reply, he continues, still slowly leading them in their loose dance.
"You're…so kind. You were there for me even when you didn't know what to do. You sat with me in that alley and waited with me, despite how close I came to hurting you. And, I don't think I will ever express how much I appreciate your kindness towards Charlotte, I -"
Guest cuts himself off with an awkward laugh. "You're so funny. You light up every room you enter with your humor and confidence - and, Heights above, you're the bravest person I've ever met, to survive the things you have."
Chance is almost dizzy from shock. Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, they cut in. "You don't know what you're signing up for, Guest."
"What I'm 'signing myself up for', Chance, is to be with you through thick and thin. I want to be there for you like you were for me. For as long as I live, I would always be there for you."
Pulling him closer, Guest's voice drops in volume. "I want to be selfish, and keep your light all to myself. I want to see you when you wake up, I want to be the reason you do those loud belly laughs that I adore. I want to see you with my daughter and think, this is the person I want to be by my side raising her. For the rest of our lives."
Chance turns his head away, his voice wobbling with barely suppressed emotion."I…you deserve someone better, Guest, I -"
"It's not about what I 'deserve'." Guest stops their movements, and with his good hand he gently takes Chance's jaw and turns his head up to make eye contact. "It's about what I want, and what you want. And I want you. The question is, will you have me?"
If they were a better man, Chance would say no. Would spare them both the heartache, spare Guest from seeing him at his worst and burdening him with their issues.
Chance is not a better man.
"…Please."
When their lips finally meet, there's no fireworks. There's only warmth, the heat of Guest's hand on their jaw and his mouth on theirs. It's only a chaste press of the lips, but when Chance pulls back his heart is thundering like he ran a marathon. Guest looks equally as stunned, and after a brief moment of staring Chance can't help but break into laughter.
"Oh my - finally, fuck," Their voice breaks at that, and Chance buries his head in Guest's shoulder with a wet laugh. When his arm wraps around him in turn, they nearly sob in relief.
After a few minutes of Chance calming down in Guest's embrace, theres movement between their legs, and suddenly Chance is being forced away by Bubby's body shoving between them, his leash held in his mouth impatiently.
"Alright, alright - okay, I think that's our cue." Guest laughs, taking the offered leash in his prosthetic hand and offering his other to Chance once more. "Want to stay with me today? No funny business, I just -"
Chance interrupts by taking his hand."I might actually die if I don't get more of you now." Guest gives him a startled laugh, but squeezes his hand fondly.
When they're both outside, the street now bathed in the warm light of dawn, Guest tugs them closer and slings his arm around their waist.
"Lets head home, yeah?" He asks with a sickeningly fond smile.
I'm so glad I slipped you my fucking business card. "Yeah. Home."