Thursday night at ‘La Danzing’ was the only night to go. The place was total dive bar but it was our dive. They played only alternative and 80’s and we loved it. It always had a good atmosphere, cheap drinks and a full dance floor. This night I was running late to meet my friends as I had a phone call from my parents in Italy and I knew my friends would understand. I wasn’t that late anyway, only about an hour and a half. You will be surprised to learn this type of lateness was not unusual for me.
Walking in I soon realized that the place was jumping. The bar was stacked with punters, the booth seating area was full and the dance floor was packed tight with dancers. The DJ was working her magic weaving great tracks into a medley that kept the crowd up and gyrating. I found my friends in our usual booth, beneath the picture of ‘Morrissey with a bunch of flowers’. I smoothly slid in and greeted my friends who were merrily drunk except for Marzia, who was our driver for the night.
The dance floor was a mixture of young girls, drunk old men and goths, which parted suddenly somewhere near the middle. The heaving crowd was making room for the erratic dance moves of two of the tallest men I have ever seen. I could just make out the faces of the disgruntled dancers giving way to the pair of similarly dressed men. They wielded their legs and arms like weapons. No one was safe and it was obvious that they couldn’t care less who they knocked out of the way as they sought pleasure in their cavorting. I liked their style.
They had balls to be bitches to the masses and not get drinks thrown at them or a slap. They deserved a slap. They were truly in their own moment as they danced, taking full advantage of their size and height and then the space their unpredictable dance moves had made on the dance floor. If the track didn’t change soon, I feared lives would be lost. On cue the DJ slowed the next track and the men jostled their way off the dancefloor with their sights set for the bar.
They were both very tall, like really tall. I am six foot and they were a good half a foot on me. They were way too blonde, in a way that preppy college graduates only can be. They were dressed in well tailored business suits (ties removed) that were too flashy for this place. Other than the colour variation in their suits, they were identical.
They were handsome, Yes. A little too ‘pretty boy’ for my liking but hot nonetheless. They were definitely a sight to behold. Motioning towards the pair, I mentioned to my friends seated around the table, “I didn’t realize that Zeus had a twin brother.”
My best friend, Marzia, was next to me, and could only sigh in lieu of any other response. Which I took as a way that was too obvious, even for her. She was already besotted by them. They were her type. The merchant bankers or aspiring high court judges would suit her well as her future husband.
“You should definitely make a move on them.” I suggested.
“Not a chance. They are out of my league! And ‘two for the price of one’ is more than I could handle.”
“I can distract one, while you jump the other!” I joked.
The next track made Marzia squeal like a teenage girl, which she wasn’t any more. She dragged me to my feet and on to the dancefloor. I felt obliged to join her, as I was a little late. We were always an unlikely couple, she and I. Her moody goth phase had gone on for way longer than anyone had expected. Don’t get me wrong, she is stylish but a little too dark for the day wear and almost too dark for the night. But she was my best friend so what can I say. I love her.
I was a little ‘gothed’ up tonight, wearing a shear black long sleeved shirt which was slightly too small for me and would inevitable come undone or be discarded before too long. My jeans were unfashionably baggy and would slip down below my hips. The crowd liked a bit of flesh and I was more than willing to deliver and I am always happy to accept the appreciative glances. I rarely spoke to anyone other than our set but enjoyed the attention nonetheless.
My moves under the flashing lights were fluid and on the beat. Pulling my shaggy curls out of my eyes, I rolled my hips and shoulders. I like to pace out the rhythm of the song, using arms or a pointed toe to emphasize specific lines or specific points in the song. We swaggered in the crowd. The rightful heirs to the space we claimed in this room. I could have been a dancer but chose to study music instead. Like racehorses, dancer’s careers were shortened by the physicality of the work and the starvation of the lack of employment. I had more options studying music.
The present song was coming to its apex and I was preparing to make a dramatic arm movement, when an elbow shoved me sideways and I skidded across the floor, almost taking out two teenage girls. Before I could register that I was on the ground, two giant hands had righted me again and were brushing me off. ‘Good going meat head!” a booming voice said, to the identical blonde tower next to him. “I have to apologize for my brother, he is a menace on the dancefloor.”
I mumbled something to accept his apology that he wouldn’t have heard over the music and blinked at Marzia a few times. She was lost to me, her eyes were the size of dinnerplates reflecting the wide brown faces of the twin barbarians.
“Go get the man a drink! He may have concussion!” the voice said from behind me with his hands planted firmly on my shoulders. He manhandled me towards the bar, I apologized as I barged through the other patrons. All Marzia could do was trail behind us.
Shouting over the noisy bar, he asked, “What would you like to drink?”
I squeaked shyly, “A vodka.”
Obviously, I didn’t say it clearly enough as the blue jacket man said, “Oh a tequila shot, that’s a great idea!”
“No, I said a vodka!” I corrected him.
“Arms, get him a tequila and a vodka shot! And you little lady?” He asked Marzia in a patronizing tone.
Her face lit up as he spoke to her directly for the first time. “Just a water, I am the designated driver tonight!”
Gesturing at Marzia and then holding up two fingers for his brother he mouthed, “The same for her!”
Marzia was never a big drinker and on this occasion the two drinks were enough for her. She was soon crying on the shoulder of one of our other friends, about how much she loved them, ‘so very much’ and that she hoped that they would be friends forever!
The twins and I were still up near the bar. “I’m Oli,” blue suit shouted over the nosy room, placing his gigantic hand on his chest. The brown suit mirrored the gesture with, “I’m Armie!”
“Wait, what?” leaving my drink, I grabbed both of them by the arm and dragged them to the side of the bar where it was a little quieter. They repeated themselves, blue suit said “I’m Armand, or Armie for short.” And then the other said, “Oliver or Oli.” and stuck his hand out. I said, “Elio.” And they both shook my hand in an over formal way.
They both said my name in unison, “Eli-ooooo!”with a wink nod to the other. “Where are you from Eli-oooo?” they both asked.
No one could or has ever said my name the way the boys would say my name. The vowels so rounded. It was like music to my ears.
“Well, Italy actually, I am here studying at the university,” I excitedly told them.
“You don’t have an accent!” brown suit commented.
“One of my parents is American and the other is half French and half Italian. We have spent a lot of time here visiting family.”
This seemed to please them immensely. Forgetting our drinks, we took to the dance floor for another couple of songs. The boys slowed their dancing to be more in time with my more sensual style. They made sure to brush up against me as often as possible. Sometimes one hand on my hip or an arm around my shoulders or one of them on either side of me jumping excitedly up and down. They let me feel everything that was hidden under their suits. They were fit, like really fit. Their muscles tight and lean, and they were so startlingly perfect, I was in disbelief. I just couldn’t understand what they were doing coming on to me.
The next track began with short sets of staccato xylophone notes and a droning synthesizer tone. Unexpectedly blue suit, or rather Oli, dragged me down onto my knees. Both of us would have looked to the rest of the crowd like we are praying at Armie’s feet. If they want me to worship him, who am I to say no. People have gone to war over less than the beauty of a godly figure.
The view from down here was fine. Resplendent in his brown suit, arms raised high over his head as his fist pump along with the rhythm of the song. He was kicking his feet in wild abandon, which stopped us from getting too close. He shook his head as if he was shaking off years of oppression, which of course neither of these two has ever known.
The vocals of the song kicked in, ‘There’s an Armie (sic) on the dancefloor… It’s a fashion with a gun, my love!’ and I quizzically looked across to Oliver. “We have to give him some time to shine. He has to live with all this greatness.” gesturing towards himself, “Poor guy!” and he nodded theatrically. I erupted into riotous laughter which he followed me in. I pulled up to full height again and was embraced in two strong arms. Behind me we were joined by two more strong arms and a grinding groin from behind. Their elation was infectious, and we danced in some way entwined for the rest of the night. Ok, they were trying to pick me up, but which one would make the move. I would take either if they were offering.
As the ‘ugly lights’ came up, we went in search of Marzia. We found her asleep in our booth, cuddling her handbag. With a little gentle coaxing, she was poured into a taxi and I went to say my goodbyes to my friends as I prepared to go home alone.
Armie began, ‘So Oli here believes that you don’t want to come home with us tonight. I have assured him that we will definitely be able to talk you around, by offering access to two of the hottest men in this city!”
Oliver continued as if speaking to his brother in a bombastic tone, “I was just saying that I don’t think that young Eli-o here understands what horrors could befall a beautiful music student at such a late hour. We could possibly be saving his life by safely delivering him to our very large and most excellent bed!”
“It’s been a fun night guys, but I have to get up for school in the morning and I wouldn’t want to disrupt your morning like that!” I was lying and I think we all knew it. They were all a bit too much for me in the state I was in and I didn’t want to make a total fool of myself by passing out or throwing up or not being able to get it up or something.
“Oh, school tomorrow… Of course.” They both said with a knowing nod.
“How about we settle this with a vote?” Both nodded heartily at me until I agreed.
“All those in favor of Elio sleeping at ours, raise your hand.”
All four of their arms were up and over their heads before I could move. Oliver looked me square in the face and declared. “Oh, I am sorry Elio, you are out voted. This is a democracy and you lose.”
They both smirked at their railroading of my alcohol addled mind. I conceded to their demands. This was how we would solve all our disagreement in this friendship. We would vote and they would outnumber me. No decision was too small to not have go to a vote, which I would easily lose. I tried another time to get them to ‘rock paper scissors’ for it but again they always beat me, one of them would always make the shape that would beat me. It was as if they knew what the other would do and do the opposite. Sometimes you just must turn your brain off and go along with the lovable pair of rascals.
Driving home, we squeezed into the front seat of one of their trucks. The bench seat was big enough for three and they insisted that I sit between them. Something about leg room. Oliver started telling me a story and then Armie would cut in to finish it. Each story would be completed with both boys adding bits and details the other left out. The back and forth of the conversation left me with no room to interject. Ultimately each story would end in laughter. It was great fun being with these two.
I asked Oliver if he should be driving, as I knew I was not in a state to be behind the wheel of a car and he turned to look at me, with a serious expression. “Relax… I am about to be a doctor.” He rubbed his hand on my shoulder and I wanted to lean deeper under his firm thumb. They both laughed at my reaction, but the thought didn’t go out of my mind.
I tried not to think of the danger and changed the subject with another question, “So, what’s it like to always have your wing man by your side.”
“Wingman? What wingman?” They both asked. “We are both going to fuck you tonight!”
I gulped audibly and felt a blush raise in my face. My lips became very warm as I tried to smile back at them. This reaction made them laugh heartily and I ultimately joined them, if not left feeling a little awkward with them. They each slipped a hand onto one of my knees and they gave each other a look that was the equivalent of a ‘high five’. I reminded myself that I had been outvoted after all.