Tom Stewart parked in front of Little Mykonos in Greek town and headed into the bar side of the building owned by his friend Augustus Theomopolous, better known as Gus. The opposite side was a cosy Greek restaurant typical in Chicago, but this one felt like home to Tom.
When he entered, things seemed immediately out of place with Gus' Uncle Louis behind the black lacquer bar. "Where is he?" Tom asked.
"Back booth. I know it's Gus' place, but he knows he can't drink while he works. I called his brother in. Nemo'll be here soon."
"Thanks." Tom walked towards the back. He and Gus had been fast friends at Northwestern, both on the swim team with scholarships. Tom had even worked summers here at Louis' restaurant for extra money. And to hang out with Gus.
They'd stayed close along with two other friends from the football team. Gay wasn't necessarily cool ten years ago when they'd started college, so the jocks who didn't go for the cheerleaders stuck together and kept quiet for the most part.
The familiar zing of desire hit Tom as he saw Gus. Six feet tall, with medium olive complexion, dark brown eyes, and lots of jet black hair, he looked full-blooded Greek despite being only half. Tom knew Gus' family almost as well as his own. They'd been so close for so long, Tom had learned to hide his desire and be happy with the friendship. But the feelings never went away. In all these years as friends, Tom had never made a move. It always seemed one of them was in a relationship when the other was free.
And friends dating friends got messy, as Gus had recently discovered.
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