Steve brought Tristan to the basement of The Pitstop. It was pretty dim and creepy; Tristan was apprehensive. Steve was so sure of the way, however, that Tristan just followed his lead.

"And this," Steve said, taking Tristan by the hand and pulling him closer. "Is the back stock. We go through vodka pretty quickly on half-off martini nights, so when we finish one, bring two back up."

"And I have to walk up and down these stairs all night?" Tristan groaned.

"The whole night," Steve said.

"Can't we... " Tristan cooed, slinking up close to Steve. "... come up with some other arrangement."

Steve chuckled. "You never give up, do you? Look, that's not going to work with me. You're hard up for cash, I'm sympathetic. But this is what I have to offer you. Take it or leave it."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "I'll take it."

"Are you sure? Economy's rough Tristan, lots of people are looking for work. I could just as easily hire someone else."

"I'll take it! I'll take it!" Tristan said, grabbing Steve's hands. "I'll be the best bareback you've ever seen!"

"Um... bar back."

"What did I say?"

*

The bar seemed busier and crazier on the other side of it, Tristan thought. Hunter poured drinks so quick and deftly, yeah managed to flirt with every customer. Tristan, on the other hand, was a sweaty mess, trying to keep up refilling the ice and cleaning the glasses.

"Is it always this busy?" Tristan asked.

Hunter just grunted.

"I said, is it always this... "

"I heard you. And I've got nothing to say to you, other than ‘more ice, more booze, more glasses'."

"Jesus, why are you so mad at me? What did I do?"

Hunter didn't say anything to Tri

###