AN: Another story for the "100moods" LJ community. This story is completely unrelated to "Waiting," though Jazz and Savin are involved in this story.

Warning: Slash, drinking mentioned, considering the story takes place within a bar.

"Hindsight"

Sighing, Jazz crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the near-empty bar. Why was he here? No one was going to come tonight--only the regulars--especially at this hour. He should have just ignored the call. Slowly, he noticed, the bar was filling up. He plastered on a fake smile, wishing with all his being that he wouldn't have to be here. He noticed a regular--Savin--out of the corner of his eye. Sighing, Jazz turned around, busying himself with the nearest customer's request. If he was busy Savin wouldn't hit on him.

Savin never walked over to the bar. He never asked for his usual. After about an hour of unusual silence, Jazz noticed that Savin was talking to someone else--sitting in an actual booth, food ordered already. The two seemed very engaged in their conversation. The man Savin was with was, in Jazz's opinion, attractive. He had long, dark brown hair and a perfect smile. What was Savin doing, talking to that strange man?

Jazz paused as he was washing a shot glass, staring at the specials menu. Was he jealous? Whenever he looked over at the two of the, his stomach dropped and he could feel something akin to anger bubbling from within. That wasn't jealous, was it? Every time the two of them touched out of the corner of his eyes, whether it was an innocent brushing of hands or something less innocent such as a seductive whisper, lips too close to the other's ear, Jazz felt helpless and angry.

He wasn't jealous. He couldn't be jealous. Savin was just a regular customer--usually he only hit on Jazz after he had had a couple of drinks. He was only Savin's object of affection when Savin was drunk, that's all. Savin didn't have any serious interest in Jazz, only drunken interest. So why was he jealous? Savin didn't really have an interest in him to begin with, and Jazz definitely had no interest in him. So why? Why was he reacting this way? Shouldn't he be happy that Savin would no longer bother him while he was trying to work?

Sighing, Jazz placed the newly washed shot glass into the dish rack, moving to the front side of the counter. The bar was busier than he thought--he needed to stay alert. When he reemerged, his partner at the bar was bringing a new stack of glasses to clean. Why weren't any of the busboys on duty tonight? Jazz didn't have time to wonder as he was bombarded with the last two people he wanted to see up close at the bar. Another fake smile made its way onto his face, Savin smiling widely at him in return.

"Jazz, meet my new boyfriend, Greg," Savin said, still smiling widely at him.

Jazz's forced smile faded somewhat, but he nodded to Greg. "And what would you two like to drink? Or should I say, what would you like to drink, Greg? Savin probably wants the usual."

Savin nodded. Greg gave Jazz his order--an incredibly difficult drink to make, for that matter, and Greg was very particular about how he wanted it. Jazz took a mental note of the order, his smile full of poison. He wasn't sure, but Greg seemed to notice this and smiled back, an evil glint in his eye. Jazz busied himself, making Savin's drink first--a simple strawberry daiquiri. "Your drink will take a few minutes," he muttered, another fake smile.

He worked hard on Greg's drink, trying to match it to his new customer's specific needs. When Greg regarded him, he looked like he was trying to size Jazz up. Like he was trying to test him--to see if he was competent. Jazz came back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "I hope it's to your liking," he said, placing the drink in front of Greg. Greg took a hesitant sip of his drink, his eyes widening.

"It's perfect," he said, his voice filled with a vague sense of resentment. "I've never had a better one."

Jazz continued to smirk, walking away from the two of them for a moment, waiting on another customer. He felt a pair of eyes on his back as he walked away. He took a few moments, new customers arriving once he finished with the last. He was so busy that pang in his heart and that drop in his stomach started to go away.

When he finally turned his attention to Savin and his new boy-toy, Jazz noticed that Savin was missing, Greg still sitting at the bar. Jazz narrowed his eyes at him. "So...how did you meet Savin?"

Greg looked up from his drink, his eyes taking a moment to focus. "What's it to you? He's happy with me--shouldn't that be all that matters to you?"

"I've never heard a word about you until tonight," Jazz said, shrugging. "He's also one of my favorite regulars. I'm kinda depressed he wouldn't mention his new boy-toy to me."

"How often does he come here?" Greg asked, raising an eyebrow. "There aren't any attractive people at this bar--the one I met him at is much classier. A different breed of people."

"He usually comes every day of the weekend. Sometimes he's too busy, though--classes really take up a lot of his time," Jazz said. "So you met him at a bar, huh? Funny, I didn't think Savin went to bars to pick up dates. I thought he had more class than that."

"You like him, don't you?" Greg asked, cutting straight to the point. He took a leisurely sip of his drink. "You're upset that a more attractive man beat you to the prize. You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous--I don't have any feelings for Savin. I just want to know he's in good hands," Jazz responded between tight lips. The two of them said nothing else, Greg taking his time with his drink. Jazz walked away to take care of more customers, ignoring the pang in his heart.

He was jealous. He couldn't come to terms with it, but he was. He just hoped that the next time he saw Savin, he wasn't with that loser. For the rest of the night, Jazz was in an even worse mood than he was in when he came in. He could only focus on how much he wished Greg had never existed. Maybe if he had accepted Savin sooner, he wouldn't be feeling so bad, instead of brushing off Savin's attention.

Hindsight is always 20/20, after all.