The bar is crowded tonight, pleasantly crowded and full of men looking that tiniest bit shifty, and he edges through it only with difficulty – using his elbows and heaving a low sigh of relief when he finally gets to the bar.
The barman, an understanding chap named Wesley who is used to all the things that people have to do to get just a little company in this world, gives him a bright smile as he settles down. Fetches his usual without a single word exchanged – does it comfortably, happily, quickly so that a familiar glass is soon placed before him and he can subtly scan the crowd with mild alcohol going down his throat.
…And now he just has to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Until, on his second glass and briefly turned back to the bar to see if the coy approach will work better tonight, a skinny, tall, perfect form edges up besides him. Awkwardly leans on the bar and fiddles with his fingers as if he’s not quite sure how to act.
Ah, a new one then. And a good thing that he’s so lanky and bony and perfect, for there can be dark sorts around these sort of places and he’s loathe to let a poor lad get led into that sort of business.
He takes a slow sip of his drink, smiles to himself as he slowly feels those eyes flicker across to watch him.
…Frowns a little as he hears a sharply indrawn gasp, for he doesn’t need love at first sight at this point (what with Blenkinsop waiting at home), but neatly pushes it down. Perhaps it’s another new chap thing, perhaps the lad has just had a violent attack of nerves – and so he can turn with his most soothing smile on and-
Damnation.
…Blenkinsop. Blenkinsop standing there with wide eyes and gaping mouth and an expression more commonly seen on fish dragged from the river in a quite terribly sudden way.
He stares back for a moment, feels his eyes bulging.
He gawps back for a moment, pretty sure that his brain is about to explode or do something equally messy and hard to explain.
And then, before he can quite think about it, he grabs Blenkinsop’s arm hurriedly, throws some money on the bar for Wesley to pick up later and drags his friend towards the door so fast that the world darn near blurs around them.
FILL: Pining For Your Face, Blenkinsop/Maltravers, Eventually NC-17 [4A/4]
The barman, an understanding chap named Wesley who is used to all the things that people have to do to get just a little company in this world, gives him a bright smile as he settles down. Fetches his usual without a single word exchanged – does it comfortably, happily, quickly so that a familiar glass is soon placed before him and he can subtly scan the crowd with mild alcohol going down his throat.
…And now he just has to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Until, on his second glass and briefly turned back to the bar to see if the coy approach will work better tonight, a skinny, tall, perfect form edges up besides him. Awkwardly leans on the bar and fiddles with his fingers as if he’s not quite sure how to act.
Ah, a new one then. And a good thing that he’s so lanky and bony and perfect, for there can be dark sorts around these sort of places and he’s loathe to let a poor lad get led into that sort of business.
He takes a slow sip of his drink, smiles to himself as he slowly feels those eyes flicker across to watch him.
…Frowns a little as he hears a sharply indrawn gasp, for he doesn’t need love at first sight at this point (what with Blenkinsop waiting at home), but neatly pushes it down. Perhaps it’s another new chap thing, perhaps the lad has just had a violent attack of nerves – and so he can turn with his most soothing smile on and-
Damnation.
…Blenkinsop. Blenkinsop standing there with wide eyes and gaping mouth and an expression more commonly seen on fish dragged from the river in a quite terribly sudden way.
He stares back for a moment, feels his eyes bulging.
He gawps back for a moment, pretty sure that his brain is about to explode or do something equally messy and hard to explain.
And then, before he can quite think about it, he grabs Blenkinsop’s arm hurriedly, throws some money on the bar for Wesley to pick up later and drags his friend towards the door so fast that the world darn near blurs around them.