The morning would have been perfect and all—eating breakfast made by the man he liked and eating with him, finding photos of the two of them together all over the apartment, and getting to spend more one-on-one time as they drove to work. It was almost perfect if it weren’t for the dammed stiffness in Louie's neck that didn’t seem to disappear even as they started service that day.
He tried not to let it show, but his discomfort occasionally made him massage his neck without knowing.
“Ooh, rough night?” Fig suddenly appeared next to him while he was cleaning a table in the middle of the work day. The man wiggled his eyebrows to imply something that made Louie's cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“No,” he quickly denied, collecting all of the dishes, “I just slept in a bad position, is all.”
