Page 121 of The Bartender Special

It wasn’t until he opened the door to Jack staring down at his phone that he realized thunder had been rumbling for a bit now too.

“Hey, I know we're supposed to go get the boat, but do you mind if we wait a minute?”

Jack turned his phone around. Radar was pulled up on the screen and an angry blob of red was moving in their direction.

“There's a storm about to pass over us and I'd like to not wreck the boat we're borrowing,” he continued. “Roger’s already got a lot on his plate, and I really don't want to paint any more rooms in his house if I can help it.”

Benny worried belatedly that his breath might not have been the best it could have been.

He nodded, already picturing where Cal’s pack of gum lay on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, yeah, that's no problem for me,” he said, words running into each other. He overcompensated for the nervous quickness by becoming Vanna White walking to touch the lit-up letter. Benny swept his arm out and extended his hand toward the living room. “Come on in.”

Jack’s eyebrow rose, much to Benny’s equal delight and horror at being perceived.

“Okay.”

There was a hint of laughter in the two syllables. Benny powered through them to the living room. His earlier warmth had turned to a familiar, default blush. Benny didn’t exactly understand it.

He’d had the man’s full on erect penis in his hand, but heaven forbid he invite him to sit in the living room.

“Why don't we watch some House Hunters?” he asked, still Vanna White-ing around the room. “A new episode just started and I think the couple lowkey hates each other.”

Benny settled on the edge of the couch. Half of him expected Jack to take the chair next to it, but the bartender took the center cushion next to him.

Instead of making him hotter at the way their thighs touched, the contact somehow began to cool his impending meltdown.

“Are you hungry or thirsty?” he asked. “I can make us something. I don’t know what, but at the very least I have coffee.”

Jack cracked his neck side to side, eyes on the TV still.

“I’m good. Dixon was still riding the high of last night when I got up. I’ve never seen him make so much food so quickly for breakfast.” Jack paused whatever he was about to say and readjusted. His dark eyes turned on him. “But if you want something, I can get it. I can probably swing into the coffee shop before the storm hits. It’s not that far away.”

Benny shook his head quick.

Thunder boomed right after.

“No. I’d like you to not go out in this, if you don’t mind.”

Jack said he didn’t and his attention went back to the TV.

A new feeling started to creep in as Benny mimicked his lounging.

It grew stronger at each boom of thunder.

Benny tried to ignore it and listen to the increasingly grumpy mutterings of the man next to him.

“You can't get that house next to the main street, Karen,” Jack told the TV. “You have small children. You should be able to sacrifice a little bit of entertaining space to make sure they’re safe.” He snorted. Then he slapped at Benny’s chest to make sure he had his attention. “You know, we could probably make this a game at the bar. Every time someone worries about entertaining spaces, you have to take a shot.

“Though maybe that’s not the best idea,” he added on, shaking his head. “Just based on this episode alone, I think we’d induce mass alcohol poisoning.”

Benny laughed but the outside world had only gotten darker.

Wondering about the future—their future—and how cool he could act in the present turned into Benny stumbling backwards into the past.

When lightning cracked and thunder boomed so loud overhead that the walls rattled, Benny couldn’t help but freeze.

When the power cut off, he was fifteen again.