Found this among my fic docs. Apparently I started writing this first week of October (I don’t remember anything). Can someone tell me where I was going with it, caue I don’t remember. Or where you wish I’d go with it. I don’t know.
He spots Guy sitting at the bar, and he walks over there. Not so much because he’s looking for company, but because that is where the bartender is, and Booster never really drinks all that much, but he could sure use it now. He’s just a few feet away when he follows Guy’s line of sight and sees what – who – Guy is looking at. Kyle’s sitting in a booth, arm slung across the shoulders of an alien lady, drinking, talking and laughing along with John and Hal who are also in the booth. Booster wonders why Guy’s sitting alone at the bar instead of with them, and he wonders about the intense way Guy is watching Kyle, and only Kyle at the other table.
Booster sits down next to Guy, the other man glancing at him out of the corner of his eye – the man’s drunk but not so drunk he isn’t aware of his surroundings.
“You in love with him or something?” Booster asks, irritable because what does Guy have to be broody about? They kicked the big bad’s ass, or well at least they must have. Booster wasn’t there when it happened, too busy fighting the reanimated corpse of his best friend, and he shudders and feels sick just remembering it. It’s over though, and a whole bunch of people who were dead are suddenly alive again, but not Beetle – not Ted.
“He’s got a girlfriend,” Guy says, before taking a swig from his bottle, he doesn’t look at Booster though, eyes never leaving Kyle, and something like recognition and empathy twists in Booster’s chest, but not before the surprise that Guy doesn’t deny either the claim that he is in love with Kyle, or the implication that he’s anything but straight.
Booster turns away - can’t look any more – he orders a beer instead from the bartender. They drink and don’t talk for a while, until Booster catches movement to his side. Guy turning towards the bartender and ordering another beer.
“I’m sorry,” Guy says after a moment. Booster doesn’t have to ask what for, but the man sounds so genuinely sincere and all Booster wants to do is punch him in the face. He grips the beer bottle a little tighter. Trying to ignore his stomach twisting with anger and the clump in his throat from how unfair it all is.