Once Marcus had tipped his glass, Avery picked up his own bottle of beer and drank some of it down, savoring the smooth feel of it in his throat. Perfect. He just had to be sure not to let himself drink enough that he couldn't drive. Avery was decent at moderation most of the time, at least when it came to alcohol. Setting the bottle back down on the bartop in front of him, he brightened slightly at the subject Marcus introduced. "This time of year blows," he said. "I'm working a twelve hour shift on Christmas Eve. We won't be open the next day." It was rare for the station to close at all, but Christmas seemed to be an extra-special occasion for Avery's boss.
Bah fucking humbug, Avery thought, beginning to relax a bit. Someone else who didn't seem that enthused by Christmas. What more could he hope for tonight? Okay, that was a loaded rhetorical question, but no matter. He was beginning to relax a bit, the line of his shoulders beneath the well-weathered leather of his jacket untensing. What had he thought was going to happen when he saw Marcus? That the guy was going to yell out to the entire town that Avery Weston liked dick?
He lifted his bottle with a wry smile, saying, "To our home away from home." After drinking, he glanced around to see where Ian had gotten to, then let his gaze skitter away again. The bartender was fantastic eye candy, but he didn't want anyone to catch him staring, not Ian and especially not Marcus. There were so many off-limits areas for Avery tonight: don't stare at Ian Kingsley, don't think about Marcus Caravahlo thrusting hard inside him and biting at his neck and shoulder, don't say anything stupid or awkward. Maybe another beer was what he needed, he thought as he quickly drained the last of his first one.