Embracing His Syn (Nothing Special 2)

Syn had been meaning to talk with the young punk about his loud, head-cringing music blasting at all hours of the night.

“What up, man?” The stoner threw a limp hand up at him with his greeting.

Syn looked at his neighbor and just managed to not roll his eyes before responding. “Yeah, hey. Uh, I wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind keeping the music down after midnight. I’m sure a lot of your neighbors feel the same way.”

The stoner and his friends looked at Syn as if he had horns before they all cracked up.

“I haven’t heard any complaints dude, and besides, I was here first. You just moved in,” his neighbor argued weakly.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Syn gritted his teeth, his patience diminishing rapidly.

“Everything,” Stoner hissed, stepping into to Syn’s face.

This has got to be a goddamn joke. He wants to fight now. Syn did roll his eyes this time. “Look. I don’t have time for this bullshit. Keep the fucking music down or I’ll haul your high ass in for disturbing the peace.” Syn flipped his gold badge out and felt smug when the stoner’s friends sobered and turned their backs on him, retreating quietly into the apartment.

“Sure. Officer,” Stoner spat the word ‘officer’ in the most disrespectful tone he could muster and bumped Syn’s shoulder while moving past him into his apartment.

Syn was sure he heard a murmured ‘fucking pig’ before his neighbor’s door slammed shut in his face. He wasn’t going to let that little exchange ruin his mood. He should be celebrating tonight. He was just hired by the Atlanta PD and promoted into the most revered task force in the Eastern U.S. People would know his name. He’d be set apart from his family's legacy, creating his own. Syn was due some congratulatory pats on the back and some hot sex. Soulful midnight eyes and a thick accent popped into his mind almost causing Syn to stumble.

Syn jogged across the three lane street and needed a couple of calming breaths as he stood staring at the heavy wooden door to the pub. Hell, why was his heart racing in the first place? He looked up and down at the many bars and restaurants on his street. The crowd was already bustling with pre-weekend excitement. Syn straightened his spine and pushed the door open. He stepped into the loud dark environment, taking a brief look around at the crowd before making his way to the bar. He took a seat close to where he’d sat yesterday and tried to be discreet while looking for his favorite bartender.

Syn only saw the big man from last night who had called the bartender ‘Furious’ and two female bartenders dressed in the bar's official t-shirt along with short, kilt-like skirts and platform shoes. He tried not to be disappointed, but felt it slowly creeping in. Syn completely turned around on his stool and scanned the dance floor and its surrounding tables. Maybe he works the floor too. Syn didn’t see him. Fuck, goddamnit, his mysterious friend was off tonight, probably out getting a shit-load of attention elsewh–”

“Looking for someone?” Rich, deep, mellow sexiness stroked its way down Syn’s back like a lover’s caress.

Oh God. Syn slowly spun his seat back around and locked onto those dark chocolate pools that were Furi’s eyes. The bartender was looking at him like he’d just discovered all of Syn’s secrets. All his wants. All his deepest desires ... fuck. All of his kinks. Syn wanted to bolt at the feeling of being exposed, but he held fast. Furi blinked at him and it broke Syn’s trance.

Shit. Furi had asked him a question.

“No,” Syn answered quickly, wincing at the excitement in his voice. He took a breath before speaking again. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

“You sure?” Furi smirked. He wiped at some non-existent liquid on the bar and tossed a napkin in front of him. “What’ll it be, Chief?”

Here we go with the nicknames again. God I just want to hear him say it once. Is that too much to fuckin’ ask? Syn smoothed his hand over his stubble. “Sure uh, let me get a double shot of Maker's with a Corona.”

Furi didn’t move or acknowledge his order. He just stared. So Syn stared back. Damn this man was something. Tattoos every damn where, peeking out where clothes ended, visible even through the rips in his jeans. Hair looking so soft and beautiful. His lips pink and plump like a woman's but Syn was sure that the prickly stubble wouldn’t feel like kissing a woman. It would feel like ... hell, he didn’t know. Furi’s arms were braced on the bar, the veins in his arms protruding with the muscles twitching just beneath the surface of his inked skin. Now it was Syn’s turn to display a little confidence.