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Rafael Atala (freyr) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-08-27 11:53:00

the things they see in me, I cannot see myself
Who: Gabe, Rafe, and their respective s/o's.
What: The boys attend a wrestling match as a double date.
Where: Lucha VaVOOM.
When: August 3rd


"Annnd, we're here," Gabe announced as their Uber pulled to a stop across the street from a large, graffiti-strewn warehouse. People lined the sidewalks, some in queue and some going to and from doors on the side of the building; some were in jeans and tees, others in full on costumes complete with face-covering masks. Whether they were participants in the festivities or deeply convicted fans was difficult to tell, but the loud music that only grew louder as Gabe popped his door open underlined everyone's excitement to be there.

He leaned into the car, thanking the driver, and then glanced between Eshan, and Rafe and his date; remembering Alice's words, he'd kept a careful distance away from the former man, unsure of how to handle this scenario after he'd already invited him out. Eshan was a comfortable bumper, his hand sliding into the other man's with familiarity.

"I've already got the tickets, so I think that's the line we want over there," he said, motioning with his free hand toward one rather long but quick moving queue wrapped around the building. He tugged Eshan forward, the man following gladly, as they moved toward the neon pink, green, and blue colored building. The graffiti was a bevy of artistic styles, but they all followed one theme: luchadores. They crossed the mostly quiet street, Gabe in the lead with Eshan closely behind.

"OK, so, count of hands, who's been to one of these before?" Gabe asked as they fell into line behind a group of men with shirts announcing their favorite wrestlers. He turned, his back to the wall, Eshan tugged to his side. Even with the physical distance, his eyes could not stop straying toward Rafe's form.

The man at Rafael's side quickly raised his hand, flashing a high-wattage smile as he did. "It was fun as hell, too. What I remember of it." He laughed, a sound as bright and earnest as the rest of him. He slid one tattooed arm through Rafe's. "You have to really get into it, though. Just sitting around acting too cool for the crowd won't cut it."

Rafael nodded. "I can handle that," he said, chuckling quietly. He was sober, which was more than he could say for his partner, and the longer he spent around both Gabe and Eshan the more uncomfortable Rafael felt with all of those things. But he put on a good face, and told himself that with Robert at his side he could get through this well enough. "So should we all cheer for the same wrestlers, then, or pick opposing ones and make a competition out of it?"

"Oh, definitely different ones," Eshan returned, his hand squeezing Gabe's as he glanced toward his boyfriend; Gabe's errant looks toward Rafe did not go unnoticed, but he said nothing in the moment. Gabe, however, did not see Eshan's observant gaze, his eyes lingering too long on his former lover. He reached up to adjust his glasses, and finally spared a glance in Eshan's direction.

"I think that's a good idea," he agreed, smiling fleetingly. He looked back at Rafe and Robert, his eyes straying for a moment toward their entwined arms. "I think I've gotta go with el Angel de Plata, then, just because."

"The Silver Angel?" Eshan translated unnecessarily, to which Gabe nodded.

"Mhm; he's one of the older wrestlers, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't write him off just yet," he teased, bumping Eshan's hip flirtatiously.

"All right, all right," Eshan returned, looking visibly relieved by Gabe's attention. "I think I'm gonna go with the... It looks kinda like a tiger? The one on that guy's shirt; don't look," he chided Gabe as his beau made a visible turn to glance at the tee of the man standing a handful of patrons in front of them. As they talked, the line moved, inching them closer and closer to the door.

"El Tigre? Yeah, he's a popular one," Gabe replied, laughing as he hip bumped Eshan again. He turned back to Rafe and Robert. "What about you guys? Which ones are you gonna back?"

"Um… Chupacabra," Rafe said, laughing. "I saw some pictures earlier, and that costume looks… just great." He chuckled again as his partner cut in.

"Dirty Sanchez, obviously. I think I'm gonna buy a tee shirt and everything. Maybe wear it to work one day." He elbowed Rafael in the ribs; Rafe merely rolled his eyes and snorted a small laugh. They moved up another step in line.

"So what are the stakes?" Rafael asked, quirking a brow. "Maybe… whoever's in last place buys post-match drinks for everyone else. Just one round, obviously. Does that sound good?"

"Oh, it does," Eshan nodded. "They've got stuff inside, but we should definitely head elsewhere once this thing is over. Maybe Redline?"

"I think St. Felix is closer," Gabe cut in, ushering them forward as they neared the front of the line. He dug tickets that he'd folded over and stuffed into one pocket, printed out from a home computer. Offering them to the employee counting such things, he smiled warmly and received a similar gesture in turn. Then they were spilled into the warehouse among the throng of fans already inside the lobby area. Two propped-open double doors gave entryway into the wide open storage space where a ring was set up; a warm-up match was already underway, keeping somewhat impatient patrons entertained until the main acts.

"Do we want to get some food, first? Something to drink? They've got beer...?" Gabe paced to a slow halt slightly away from one of the doorways, glancing through it for a moment before pulling his questioning gaze back to Eshan beside him, then Rafe, and Robert, lastly, not to leave him feeling left out.

"Beer, definitely," Robert said.

Rafe nodded. "Why don't you get us a couple while we find our seats? That line is bound to be pretty long already." Robert answered with a vigorous nod. Standing up on his toes, he kissed Rafael full on the mouth, a show as much of flirtatiousness as possession. Blushing faintly, Rafael turned, beckoning for the others to follow as they made their way to their section.

"I'm gonna grab some for us, too, if that's good with you?" Eshan started, tugging back on Gabe's hand.

The latter man nodded, brows raised faintly. "Sure, if you're OK with that. We'll meet you there." He leaned forward, pecking Eshan quickly and faintly on the side of the mouth; as light of a gesture as it was, Eshan still grinned, nodding, and took his own leave, following in Robbie's wake. Freshly separated, Gabe turned back to Rafe as they continued to sort through the crowd, glancing every few moments at the tickets in his hand as he fruitlessly tried to remember the numbers and letters on them.

"OK, 22E, F, G, and H, all together... You'd think that'd make this simpler," he murmured half jokingly at Rafe as he counted out the rows. Silence between them, if not around them, stretched out, and Gabe sought to fill it. "He's, ah, a nice guy," he commented a little lamely; there was no need to make conversation despite the simple desire to. The white noise of people talking all around them, along with the thuds and grunts of the two men in the pen in front of them, provided ample sound that Gabe almost had to shout over. "Someone you met at work?"

Rafael's initial murmur of agreement was lost in the cacophony around them. Belatedly realizing this, he turned to his friend, taking him by the hand as they moved down their assigned row. Gabe made nothing of the gesture, his own fingers wrapping easily around the other man's in memory of past handlocks.

"Yes," Rafe answered, hoping no further explanation would be asked of him. "I'm glad you both get to meet him. He's very… enthusiastic. About everything." A boyish smile curved one corner of his mouth; Gabe glanced sidelong at the other man, and could not deny he did not care for the cause of that expression. "It can be a lot for some people. It's kind of nice, though, honestly."

Rafe dropped his grip when he became consciously aware of it, focusing instead on carefully inching his way between chair backs and those already seated. He sighed when they reached their chairs, and set himself down in the second to last of their seats.

"So how is Eshan enjoying being off the road? Is he making sure you're not glued to your work all day?"

Gabe remained standing, for a beat, and then took his own spot next to Rafe. "He does what he can," he offered, with a shrug. "Stops by with food, makes sure I'm not running my assistant ragged. He's still got some work himself, but it's mostly downtime right now until he gets another big project. And I'm on deadline, but you know." He shrugged, one hand smoothing down his cargo shorts, pocketing the tickets again. He put his arm on the armrest between them, his shoulder and bicep all but pressed to Rafe's. It was the best he could manage before he accidentally put his arm along the top lip of the back of Rafe's chair, like he might have had in the past. "I'm glad you're seeing someone again, though," he offered, though the words were less than sincere. He hoped the subtle meaning beneath would be lost amid all the noise.

Rafael bit his tongue against the flood of responses that wanted to come. It was a moment before something like a proper response formed. "Thank you. It's…" He chuckled, sheepish and self conscious, and pulled a hand through his windblown hair. "You know I've never been very good at dating. But Robbie's so… excited about everything, I don't even think about how stupid or awkward I'm being. And it's been kind of nice to be with someone who understands the job. I'm sure you know how that is, you and Eshan." He smiled down at his hands, now folded neatly in his lap. "I mean, obviously it's a very different kind of work, but you know what I mean…"

Gabe's hand instantly went atop Rafe's wrist, holding it gently; his thumb rubbed over the other man's pulse. Rafe quickly responded in kind, his free hand covering Gabe's and holding it close.

"I understand," he said, their close proximity allowing his softer spoken words to be more easily heard than before. "And I'm glad, I seriously am. You deserve someone who understands you, and supports you." No small amount of guilt filled those words, and this time he didn't find himself backpedaling. His brows came together across his forehead, mouth slightly open as he debated asking his next question. He did so, anyway.

"You're... you're all right, right? Everything's OK?"

"Yeah. Yes. It's all… everything is great." Rafe smiled, his gaze flicking briefly toward the aisle, a small concession to the fact that he was there with someone other than his erstwhile partner. Then his focus returned once more, and his smile only grew. "The new apartment is really coming together. Isobel even brought over a betta fish. Mr. Fishy the Second, I'm calling him. For now, at least." His hand slid away from Gabriel's. He did not notice, but he was still leaning too close, staring too long. "I need to get a better tank, and maybe some decorations to put inside. Do you want to help? You've always had an eye for beautiful things."

"We're back," Robbie called, his cheerful, singsong tone shattering their moment of peace. He balanced four white and gold cans in his grip, crab-walking sideways down the filled aisle with Eshan close at his back. "Everybody likes Negro Modelo, right? If not I'll drink yours, no big deal…" He handed a can down to Gabe as he passed, then took up the open seat to Rafael's left.

Rafe shifted slightly in his seat, leaning back toward his partner. He whispered something in Robbie's ear as he took one of the cans, and was beaming brightly when he passed one down toward Eshan.

Eshan nodded crisply, accepting the can as he took the fourth and final seat now next to Gabe. The look on his face was sheer puzzlement, unsettled by what he'd seen allegedly going on between the two men they'd left behind on their short and seemingly uneventful trip to the house bar. He settled, putting a hand on Gabe's arm as his other hand grasped the cold beer.

"So, anything interesting in the pre-show while we were gone?"

"Uh, no, nothing to speak of," Gabe replied, smiling faintly at Eshan. He cracked his beer open, then swapped hands so he could spread a long arm around his beau's shoulders. It didn't seem to reassure Eshan as much as such attention had before.

"So you guys were caught up in conversation, then, huh? Anything you want to share?" Gabe shook his head, instead taking a long pull in lieu of an actual reply.

"Fish," Rafael answered, his tongue flicking over his lips to sweep up the fine sheen of beer. Neither his comment nor his gesture distracted from the faint flush still coloring his cheeks. "My friend Isobel bought me a betta fish, and I need suggestions on how to decorate its aquarium. I only had a small, sort of boring bowl for the last one, and I want to do something a little nicer this time."

"Get it a little surfboard," Robbie chimed in. "I could make you one. Or buy you one. I bet tons of tourist shops have tiny ones we could put in there, maybe stick it in some sand in the bottom…" His helpful suggestions soon drifted into nothing, as the wrestler for whom he had earlier declared took the stage, arms spread wide and chest puffed out. "Oh shit," he said, laughing, beer spilling from his can as he moved. "This is fuckin' great."

The audience clearly agreed, as many patrons rose to their feet, beer, encouraging chants and expletives pouring out toward the center stage. Those in front of the small group of double daters immediately blocked their view, and Gabe glanced at Eshan, silently commenting on it all. Eshan seemed determined to remain in a poor mood, but as Gabe stood, he did as well; Gabe tried to soothe the issue by putting an arm around Eshan's waist, a movement that the other man did not prevent.

Gabe glanced toward Rafe, though, his attention quickly diverted by both the show and his fellow Pax tenant's presence. "How do you like it?" He grinned, leaning toward Rafe so he could be better heard. Eshan's gaze remained fixed on the fight, watching the wrestlers tumble over each other on the mat, but Gabe's continued focus on Rafe did not go entirely unnoticed.

"It's fun," Rafael admitted, chuckling as Dirty Sanchez did an impressive dive off the top rope. "It's silly, but it's fun."

He missed whatever happened next, looking too late as the crowd exploded into cheers. Beside him Robbie bounced on the balls of his feet, cackling madly in between sips of beer. Each little upward bounce helped him see over the taller patrons in front of him, and Rafe could not help but smile at the motion, as ridiculous as the event they were attending. Rafe sipped at his beer, pausing to cheer as a downed fighter—Dirty Sanchez's opponent—was quickly exchanged for his own favorite, El Chupacabra.

"Oh it's on now," Robbie declared, elbowing his date in the ribs. Rafael rolled his eyes, chuckling still as he glanced back, briefly, to Eshan.

"Is he okay?" he whispered to Gabe, leaning in more than perhaps he should have. "You two don't have to stay if he's not enjoying it. We can catch a cab or something."

Eshan's gaze was steadily fixed on the match in front of them, long, intermittent sips from his drink the only movement he made. Despite Gabe's arm around him, he stood awkwardly, clearly unhappy with something then and there. Gabe shook his head at Rafe after a few careful glances in his boyfriend's direction; he took a step closer to Eshan, his voice a low whisper hidden by the roar of the crowd as he tried to puzzle out the issue. Eshan replied in kind, though his whispers and reactions were far more heated. Gabe's grasp tightened on Eshan's hip, and then he turned back to Rafe.

"We're gonna grab some food, do you guys want anything?" The look on his face said that the momentary departure was less about hunger and probably more talking, but he did his best to keep up the facade.

Rafael shook his head, the crease between his brows still firmly in place. From his opposite side Robbie called out, his eyes still firmly on the match. "Another beer'd be cool." Rafe shrugged in response, a small gesture meant to free his friend of any such obligation. Color still dusted his cheeks, and though he desperately wanted to know the meaning behind Eshan's reaction, he didn't dare ask. Instead, he turned his attention back to his own partner, giving him a teasing prod as El Chupacabra took down his opponent.

Gabe didn't take Rafe's response as a dismissal, or anything other than someone acknowledging a decision; still, the smile pressed to his face dissolved, and when he looked back at Eshan, he merely nodded, letting the other man start to lead their path through the standing crowd that filled the other seats around them. Their disappearance was quick and covered by the audience's boisterous laughter and cheers, disguising any other ill-intent telegraphed by the sudden departure.

With the crowd around the ring, there couldn't have been many left at the refreshment stands. Bathroom lines had to likewise have been short. And yet, Eshan and Gabe's absence grew longer and longer. Five minutes turned into ten, turned into fifteen. Finally, Rafe's phone buzzed in his pocket, indicating a text message; its sender was none other than Gabe himself.

Sorry, we're heading out. Eshan isn't feeling well. Enjoy the show, I want to hear about it later.

Rafe frowned down at his phone for some time. With one hand wrapped around his beer and the other on his phone, he awkwardly tapped out and deleted several replies. In the end he sent nothing. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his focus to his date, trying and failing to tamp down the disappointment that only grew as time passed. Robbie's enthusiasm and the roar of the crowd should have been enough to distract him. But they weren't, and as the night drew to a close, Rafael still wasn't sure what to make of that fact.