In the Symposium he looked at him and he looked at him. They stared and looked away, becoming shy of each other, without knowing that it happened quite suddenly, possibly, maybe. In the Symposium where people talked while they read and ate and drank brewed things, he came up to him and asked for a mumbled something, a hot something, with extra sugar, please. Pleased, he took down his order, took his money, gave him more sugar, and watched him disappear, out the Symposium and around the corner.  Behind the counter he waits.

It is the same time as yesterday. He looked at him and he looked at him. In the Symposium they grew to recognize each other, bit by bit, before he could finish asking, he would have already known. He smiles and he smiles back. They are friendly, they say hi and hello and how are you, they say thank you and bye.

It is odd in the Symposium because it has never happened before, stuck between this intersection of a busy street with the train heading to the east. Same time as before, he comes in, he smiles, he orders, he knows to put extra sugar. He lingers longer after he’s received his change, trying to understand. Have a good day, he says, I will be back tomorrow.

Promise?

He comes back; it has been going on for so long now that they have come to a mutual understanding. It has never happened before, it happened now. What is it? Where is it? How did it land here? Their fingers touch, it burns their insides, it lingers a bit. He learns his name and he learns his name too.  They are friends, they are more than friends, they recognize each other, perhaps more than what is on the outside. That thing brewing in between and inwards. They shy away from it, avoiding it, because here at the Symposium it happened.

They need to over come the barrier, and fail to do so, after all that hello’s and sugar and drinking. What next? They are stuck, without anything to edge them on they are in limbo. Neither wants to jump and take the plunge.

Well then, there’s a simple solution to it really, here at the Symposium, stuck in the middle of a busy intersection, where just around the corner another coffee shop stands. There is a girl there. He goes in and she sees him see her. He jumps the barricade, doesn’t beat around the bush. They talk, they flirt, he orders extra sugar with a hot something. This time, he knows what’s next, because here it has happened before, dozens of lovers beforehand.

But because it has never happened at the Symposium before, they remember. He walks by, he looks in, he sees him see him. 

---

Notes:

"Talked while they read": from Origin of Love (Hedwig the angry inch)

"Possibly, Maybe": Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop

Symposium: Plato's Symposium (Bunch of men gathered around drinking and talking about love, no women allowed.) 

"Train going East": Stephen Crane's, The Bride Comes To Yellow Sky (Going East in Westerns usually mean gay)