April 20, 2000
San Francisco
The restaurant smelled faintly of garlic and grilled meat when Steve stepped inside.
It was early evening, and the place was already beginning to fill with people finishing their workdays. Glasses clinked somewhere behind the bar while a cook shouted something in Spanish from the kitchen.
Steve spotted Tommy immediately.
Tommy stood near the counter wearing a black apron, leaning against the register while talking with another employee. When he saw Steve walk in, his face lit up.
"There he is," Tommy said. "The man of the hour."
Steve laughed as he walked over.
"You act like I'm late or something."
"You are late," Tommy said.
"I'm three minutes late."
Tommy shook his head dramatically.
"Unacceptable."
They exchanged a quick half-hug.
"So what's the plan tonight?" Steve asked.
Tommy shrugged.
"I get off in about ten minutes. Then we'll figure something out."
Steve leaned casually against the counter.
"You always say that," he said.
"And somehow it always works."
Tommy smirked.
As they talked, someone emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of glasses.
Steve looked up—and froze for half a second.
Mizuki stopped walking.
The same surprised expression spread across his face.
"Well," Mizuki said slowly, setting the tray down on the counter.
"Look at you."
Steve laughed.
"Fancy seeing you here."
Mizuki folded his arms slightly, studying him with amused curiosity.
"Mr. Guy from the park," he said.
"Right here in the flesh."
Tommy glanced between them.
"You two know each other?"
Mizuki pointed lightly at Steve.
"We met at the park last week."
Tommy looked impressed.
"Dolores Park?"
Steve nodded.
"Yeah."
Mizuki tilted his head slightly.
"So how do you know Tommy?"
Steve shrugged.
"I met him when I first moved to the city," he said. "We bonded pretty quickly."
Tommy grinned.
"We were both lost eighteen-year-olds."
Mizuki blinked.
He looked back at Steve.
"Wait," he said.
"You're eighteen?"
Steve nodded.
"Yeah."
Mizuki gave a small double take.
"Well that explains something."
Steve raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
Mizuki smiled slightly.
"I've been trying to spot you in the Castro all week."
Tommy burst out laughing.
Steve laughed too.
"Yeah," Steve said. "That would explain it."
Mizuki glanced toward the kitchen.
"I'm actually heading out," he said.
Then he turned back to Steve.
"But for next time—"
He grabbed a receipt from the counter and quickly scribbled something down.
He handed it to Steve.
"Here's my number."
Steve looked at the paper.
Mizuki smiled.
"You should definitely use it."
He gave a quick nod to Tommy and headed toward the back door.
Steve watched him go.
Tommy leaned over the counter.
"Oh man," Tommy said.
Steve looked up.
"What?"
Tommy grinned.
"You are so calling him."