Chapter Text
“One co*cktail, please, cutie.”
My concentration broke the second the silence that I had been cleaning in was disrupted. No longer aggressively wiping away some foggy smudge stain on the dark oak counter, I looked up to find my coworker, Matt, leaning over it from the other side, smirking at me. Upon seeing who it actually was, though, I just went back to wiping away, a chuffed scoff breezing through my teeth before I could even consider stopping it.
Matt squawked at my response, and it took a fair amount of my willpower not to grin. “All I asked for was a drink! Don't ignore me!” I still said nothing, still pretending to wipe at the one spot where the smudge was, even though it was definitely gone at this rate. The silence lasted barely a few seconds, though, when my forehead was suddenly flicked.
“Ow,” was my monotonous response, even though we both knew it didn't hurt at all. I did finally look up at Matt. “C'mon, man, people are gonna be flooding in, soon. We need to be ready.”
Matt groaned, even laying his face directly onto the counter as his long, drawn-out whine turned muffled while plastered to the hard surface. It lasted an impressively long moment until he then sat right back up and hopped away to the janitor's closet. “Fine! I guess I'll wipe down tables,” he sighed in all his dramatic glory. He was still muttering under his breath while he walked off, most of which I couldn't make out. I chuckled as quietly as I could to myself as I quickly wiped off where his face had been. “Oh, shut up,” he growled from the closet, playfully glaring at me.
I just rolled my eyes and continued working, going off to wipe down any dishes that hadn't been properly cleaned before I arrived. Thankfully, there weren't many that needed to be done, only a few cups here and some plates there that had a stain or some smudge that could be rubbed out easily. Soon enough, I began to organize the beverages, Matt joining in halfway through when he was done spraying down tables and booths.
We had been knelt under the counter, restocking and organizing the mini fridges with various cans and bottles that were going to be needed for the day, when I caught the sound of sharp, heeled footsteps making their way towards us. Matt heard it, too, and stood up to look over the counter.
“Oh hi, Quinn!” He piped up, waving.
“Hi, Matt!” The girl in question greeted. I quickly shoved the rest of the drinks in and stood up myself. “Oh hey, Smitty!”
“Hey, what's up?” The question came out naturally, and we watched her come over and lean on the counter I just wiped down. Thankfully, she has on a jacket over her modest-looking clothing, though knowing she was one of the strippers that worked here, we all knew the simple attire wasn't going to last.
“I'm good! Just wanted to drop by and say hi before the hoard came in.” Quinn took a quick survey of the room, the action accompanied by a sharp whistle. “It looks great in here, by the way!”
“You can thank Smitty for that.” I elbowed Matt in the side for that snark comment, as true as it may be.
“Yeah, well, see if you can still say that by the time morning comes,” I grumbled with a sigh, already dreading how bad it would be. Saturday nights were always either enjoyable or absolute hell—most of the time, both. On the bright side, I got a good laugh from both of them.
“True! I have to get changed, so I'll see you boys later!” And she sauntered off towards the stage, heading into the backroom. With her out of sight, I instinctively found myself looking at Matt and another exasperated sigh left me, catching his attention.
“What? Why are you sighing?” he asked, dumbfounded.
His confusion only bothered me even more. “ f*cking— turn to me.” He did so, allowing me to fix how the black vest and tie looked over his white button-up. “I swear, you never put this on right, and it bothers me,” I hissed through gritted teeth as I fumbled with the fabric, trying not to wrinkle it too much.
" Why, I do it so wittle Jaren can get his way with all the hot, attractive perverts that come in!" Matt mockingly says in a baby voice, barely managing to fight back his giggles.
I only hummed offhandedly, not really focusing on what he was saying to begin with as I finally adjusted his outfit properly. I heard the front door open and close as I gave Matt one final pat-down before looking over to see Grizzy, the owner, tiredly walking in.
“Are we all set to open?” He grumbles out, holding back a yawn, but still failing at the end.
“Of course we are! Who do you take us for?” Matt gasped, one hand against his chest in shock, while the other wrapped over my shoulder to press us closer.
Grizzy looks as unimpressed as he should be. “I ask because between the two of you, Smitty does most a’ the sh*t.”
Matt lets go of me and nods his head solemnly. “Yeah. That's true.”
“Funny that not even a minute ago, you were telling Quinn to thank me for the place being so clean,” I chuckled, watching as Matt playfully glared at me.
“On the bright side,” Grizzy chimed in before Matt could say anything, “at least it isn't just one of you guys alone here on a Saturday night.”
At that, Matt cheered loudly, making Grizzy flinch at the sudden noise. “Alright man, settle down. Your excitement sometimes scares people away,” I say, patting his shoulder like some mother calming her child.
“I don't understand how you can have so much energy at this time of night,” Grizzy sighs, taking out his keys. He flicks on the neon lights and unlocks all the doors as Matt glances at the time.
“It's only ten, though?” Grizzy says nothing as he slugs himself to his office, most likely to fall right back asleep until someone wakes him up when he's needed.
“Well, as Grizzy does everything but his job, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” I excuse myself, quickly shuffling off to the restrooms.
“Okay, but be quick! Before I go coo-coo!” Matt hollers out.
The moment I open the men's room, I nearly choke on the smell of smoke congesting the room. “ Dammit, Puffer!” I growl, coughing from the feeling of how thick the smoke is in my chest.
Much to my chagrin, the man in question just laughed, uncaring about the amount of smoke smogging up the poorly ventilated room. He did come out of the stall he was chilling in, instead heading over to the sink and leaning on it. “Heya, Smitt,” he grinned, smug and cool in a way that made my blood boil.
“Y’know,” I scoffed, “there is literally an area outside for that.”
At first, Puffer didn’t respond further than a hum, releasing more smoke out of his nose and lips as he stared right at me. He was annoying, and what was worse was that there was nothing I could do about it. He’s a good friend of Grizzy's, has been for a long time, and he’s practically the unofficial Co-owner of the bar. Which was stupid, because he doesn’t contribute sh*t, he just loiters around and smokes up all the rooms.
“Welp,” he finally pipes up, popping the last syllable just to be even more irritating. “I should take my leave,” and he rubbed the cigarette bud onto the counter, getting the ashes all over it, before just leaving it there as he walked out with a smirk. It infuriated me, and all I could do was quickly clean up and do my business as quickly as possible. The entire time, I was fuming, grumbling to myself, and cursing Puffer under my breath, and by the time I was heading back to the bar where Matt was, I wanted to kick the nearest breakable thing within the vicinity.
Matt saw me storming over from across the room, his eyebrow raised in question, and the moment I dipped behind the counter, I didn’t give him a chance to ask. “Puffer is such a dick, man!”
The confusion was immediately replaced with an equally irritated look from Matt. “What’d he do this time?”
Just remembering what he did enraged me all over again. “He was f*cking smoking in the bathroom and then left after smashing his cigarette all over the sink!”
Matt gawked at me. He didn’t say anything at first, perhaps waiting for more of the story or for me to say ‘sike !’, but when I didn’t, he somehow looked even more baffled. “But—we have areas outside for that!? And on the counter?” When I nodded, he squawked. “Dah fawk?”
While Matt stewed in his fury and confusion at Puffer, I gave the lobby a quick span, truly taking in just how many people were already here when the doors had barely been opened for more than twenty minutes. Almost all the tables and booths were already filled with people, either drinking or just sitting around waiting for either the dancers or their food.
“Damn. How does this place always fill up so fast,” I muttered, recognizing a few regulars standing around the stage or taking seats near it.
Suddenly, Matt pressed himself right up against me and pointed to some blonde girl patiently sitting close to the stage. “Hey—isn’t that the girl Quinn is always talking about?” When I looked closer, I recognized that yes, it was her.
I looked over at Matt and grinned. “Quinn’s up first, and she’s got a front-row seat,” I purred and wiggled my eyebrows, successfully getting him to laugh. I wanted to comment some more, but some customers were sitting around the bar, waiting for us, so Matt and I parted to help them.
I turned to the first guy closest to me and quickly asked what he wanted, since he looked to be in a rush if the way his fingers tapped on the counter were an indication. “I’ll take a Gimlet co*cktail,” he simply said. With a nod, I moved to grab a glass, pouring his drink and sliding it over to him. He handed me the money and walked off with it towards the dancers. Stuffing the money into my pocket to put in the register later, I shot a glance at Matt, who was already having a full conversation with the customers on his side of the bar, like always. He was already known as the chatty one, talking with any stranger who knew English.
Actually, no—one time he got into a whole debate with a guy who only spoke Spanish using Google Translate. I still don’t think Grizzy believes that.
Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I quickly turned to help more people. “Sorry about that, sir—oh. Puffer.” My tone dropped the second I saw who it was. Puffer hummed and pushed aside one of the stools to stand by the counter. “What, you want a drink? Wait— do you even drink?” I found myself asking because when I thought about it, I realized I had never actually seen Puffer drink.
He shot me a look and scoffed. “Yeah, of course I do.”
“Huh. I’ve just never seen you drink before.” When Puffer just kept staring at me, I couldn’t help but bite my tongue. This was already more awkward than chatting with strangers, and I was sure Matt was well into conversing with his thirteenth customer by now.
Finally, Puffer stopped his awkward staring. “Anyway. I just wanted some water.”
“HUH?! WATER?” I gasped. I had no idea what Puffer would’ve wanted, but water was definitely not on that list. “What are you, healthy? Trying to finally lose that weight?” I couldn’t help but tease. It made him scowl and turn red in the face, which was always satisfying when he always irritated me in response. Puffer let out a grumble that almost sounded like a growl, so I left to make him a glass of water— f*cking water, Jesus Christ —and bring it back. “Here you go. A fresh glass of water, on the rocks.” I slid the cup across the counter to him.
“Thanks, Smit.” He held up the glass a little in thanks before leaving.
“...jackass,” I grumbled.
“I HEARD THAT, YOU BITCH!” Puffer’s voice loudly echoed through the lobby, almost silencing everyone. I shot a look at Matt, who was looking at me, eyes wide.
“Woah.” His response made me burst into laughter, a few people around us also laughed at what happened, and we both went back to work. I turned to where I last saw someone, ready to take their order.
“Hello, sir—” only to find that nobody was there. The seat was empty. This was odd because I swear there had been someone there, but figured they just left to do something else real quick. Nothing new. What was new, though, was that there were actually a lot of empty seats on my side of the bar, which was definitely weird because I know for a fact that there were more people here just moments ago. I shot a glance at Matt, serving several people hovering around, asking for drinks. Then the sound of metal clinking against the counter drew my attention.
“Over here,” someone called out.
I turned towards where the voice came from and smiled. “Hello, what can—” I lost my voice when I noticed several more people stand up and walk off to the other end of the bar until there was only one guy left.
When I looked at him, he grinned. “Something wrong?~” he purred, teasingly. He sounded childish and almost innocent, but not in a real, genuine way, but in a fake way. It was almost terrifying. The metal clicking I heard had been him mindlessly tapping his rings onto the hard surface, dark fingernails painted some color that I couldn’t make out. He had shiny brown, curly hair shaved into a mullet, and I think he had a mole by his lip. It was hard to tell in the dark and the vibrant lights.
However, what was most distracting was how hot the guy was. When I went to take his order, though, Matt practically yanked me away towards his side of the bar. “ De f*ck —Matt!”
“Dude! Be careful!” Matt suddenly said, still gripping my arm.
“What? Whaddya mean?”
“That guy over there!”
“What about him?” I looked over my shoulder at the guy, and he was still looking at me. When he noticed my gaze, he waved with a smirk. Matt’s heavy sigh turned my focus back onto him.
“Do you know nothing?” Matt asked, exasperated, yanking my arm to turn me away from the customer.
“Apparently? Know about what?!” I snapped, getting seriously fed up with how vague Matt was being. Matt, in response, looked at me like I was the ridiculous one.
“Smit. That guy is bad news. You need to stay away from him.”
“Okay? He’s literally a customer, though—I have to serve him!” I explained, pulling away and turning around to do my job. Matt snagged my arm one last time and looked me dead in the eye.
“He’s not the hot sh*t you think he is, Smitty. He could kill you if he wanted to. Trust me,” and with that he let me go and went to serve more people. It was disorienting to think about because I rarely have ever seen Matt so serious about anything. But if this guy really is as bad as Matt says he is, it would explain why so many people left as quickly as they did. It made me nervous, but I still had a job to do.
Walking back over to him, he was still looking at me. When I was close enough, he relaxed and leaned onto the counter with both arms folded over each other, clearly intent on getting himself comfy.
“What was that about?” He asked before I could ask for his order, his voice ringing in my head.
‘ Jeez, he even sounds hot, too, ’ I thought to myself. I was hoping to make this quick, but I can’t blame him for asking—I would too if I were in his position. But there was no way in hell I could tell him why Matt had violently yanked me away the way he did. “Nothing important. My coworker just wanted to remind me of something before he forgot. He does that a lot,” I coolly reply. “Sorry to keep you waiting, though. Anything I can get for you?” I naturally asked, flexing my fingers, ready to fetch the man whatever he wanted.
He looked down at the menu engraved into the counter, his eyes skimming over the options almost too quickly to seem genuine. I tried to make out what color they were, but it was hard to tell with the lighting. They definitely weren’t brown though, so either they were blue or somehow green, like mine.
“I’d like to try a taste of you,” he suddenly said, and his eyes were staring straight into mine. He had that smirk back on his face, and the way he was looking at me almost felt physical.
However, this man would not be the first to try and flirt with me, and I highly doubt he would be the last. Normally, I wouldn’t mind flirting back—it was the most effective way of getting higher tips, after all, but the only reason I had to shut it down despite how hot the guy was was because of Matt’s warning.
“Sadly, I am not on the menu, sir, so that won’t be happening,” I kindly explained.
“Is that right? You look far too enticing to not be on the menu.”
Admittedly, that was good. Most people were decent at flirting, but I can’t lie, that compliment made me feel warm. “Is there anything else you would like, instead?”
“I sure would love to take you somewhere private.”
‘Awfully persistent, isn’t he?’ I thought, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. He was making it hard to focus on my job, I couldn’t spend the whole night here going back and forth with this man. “I need you to be serious, here.”
“I am being serious. I want you, and I want to get to know you.” It just wasn’t fair how warm those words made me feel. I knew it was only physical, and I wasn’t stupid, I knew what he was implying, but his soothing voice and abiding confidence worked wonders worming suggestive ideas and arousing visuals in my head. “And something tells me that’s what you want, too~”
“What I want is for you to tell me what you want to drink, or else I’m leaving you there, thirsty,” I finally sighed, needing to get this guy over with before it got worse.
He seemed a little taken aback by me, but his surprise quickly morphed into this pleasing look. “Then why don’t you surprise me? Something tells me a cutie like you has good taste.”
It was easy to ignore how the pet name made me feel when I had something else to focus on. I made the first drink I could think of, adding what was needed and plopping a cherry into it before dropping a thin mixing straw and serving it. From the way the guy was still staring at me, I guessed he watched me make it the whole time. If I wasn’t so used to it, I’d be uncomfortable.
He at least had the decency to say thank you when I slid the glass over to him. I watched as he grabbed the drink by the rim of the glass, keeping the straw out of the way with a finger, while he went to take a sip. It only got so close before he noticed me and lowered it.
“Got a staring problem?” He chuckled, now observing his drink.
“Not exactly, no.”
“You seemed pretty focused on my face, there. Am I just that good-looking?”
‘You have no f*cking idea,’ I thought, fighting the urge to give the man a once over. “You just have a drink that I wanna make sure you like. That’s all.”
Finally, he took a sip. He didn’t look away until he gulped, and then his eyes fluttered like he just tasted the best nectar God could provide him. An exaggeration, but the compliment wasn’t lost on me. “I was right, putting my trust in you; this is pretty good. What is this?”
While he set the glass back down, I took a glance at Matt and noticed how much the bar had calmed down. Only a few other people sat around, mainly away from this guy, though there were a bunch of abandoned empty drinks waiting to be cleaned out, so I grabbed the nearest one and dumped out the melted ice into the sink.
“Just a classic Shirley Temple, but with vodka,” I explained, grabbing another cup and dumping that, too. I saw him move in my peripheral and looked on instinct, just in time to see him pop a cherry into his mouth, stem and all.
Dear God, he better not.
“Aren’t those called Dirty Shirley’s?” He asked with his mouth full. I couldn’t be bothered to respond to that, deciding to answer with a shrug and continue cleaning dishes. Thankfully, he didn’t push that time, turning in his seat with his drink in hand to watch the strippers up on stage. I assumed that was the end of it. Going through the motions of dumping, rinsing, wiping, and storing, I had dropped my attention from him and got so focused on doing my own thing that he caught me off guard when he suddenly said, “They sure are somethin’, huh?”
For a minute, I didn’t know what he was talking about until it sunk in that he was referring to the dancers. With a glance, I saw one of the ladies swing her body around the pole, spreading her legs and lifting herself off the ground. “I mean… I guess,” I decidedly spared another glance towards Matt, who was already looking with a glare. “ Piss off, ” I mouthed at him since my head was turned away from the guy.
“I’d pay to see you dance around a pole like that.”
My head spun to the man so fast I swear my neck popped. “Excuse me?”
When he turned to look at me, his eyes were dark. It could have very well been the lighting or the lack of it, but it was enough to make me feel inclined to put the cup down before I accidentally dropped it. “You heard me,” he purred. Purred . It sent shivers crawling up and down my spine.
I’ve never had anyone say that to me. Normally, people would say something cliché or generic, maybe ask how I felt about the strippers on stage, but that was it. I was at a complete loss for words, my voice caught in my throat, and I couldn’t think of a single comeback to that.
The guy set his glass back on the counter, empty this time, lightly sliding it towards me. I wordlessly reached for it, wrapping my hand around the cold, wet glass before his hand was suddenly around my wrist. His rings felt cold, and his grip was gentle yet firm. With a small tug, light enough that I could’ve fought against it if I wanted, I was bent down just enough so that when he leaned over the counter, our faces were close.
His eyes were green, fading to brown around the iris.
And yeah, he did have a mole above his lip.
“You almost had me convinced you didn’t like me at all.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, I was roughly pulled away by Matt, tugging at my other arm. I slid out of the guy’s grasp easily, the empty glass I was still holding onto nearly slipping from my hand. I didn’t miss the way the guy lowly growled at Matt, though he didn’t budge.
“Sir, if you haven’t noticed; you are making this fine gentleman here incredibly uncomfortable.” Matt’s tone was condescending, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his glare through the grip he had still on my arm.
The guy just raised an eyebrow. “By?”
“The f*ck do you think?” He just hummed and shrugged, clearly playing ignorant. It about made me laugh. That’s when Matt finally let go of me and slammed both hands down on the counter, leaning down so they were face to face. “Listen here you piece of sh*t—I know who you are, and I know what you’re trying to do. It ain’t any of my business, but you keep my friend out of it, alright? Either go find some other twink or get out.” The guy opened his mouth and Matt immediately shut him down, aggressively pointing toward the entrance, motioning for him to leave. When he made no move to do so, Matt simply said one last “ Out, ” before the guy looked at me and winked before standing and walking off, neither of us moving until the guy was actually out the door.
That was… intense. I’ve seen Matt get loud and aggressive at times, but to see him get this fiercely protective wasn’t something I was used to. Normally if a customer was being too much, either one of us would simply give them a warning before kicking them out, but Matt just straight up cut the bullet.
Neither of us really moved for a moment before something he said caught my attention.
“Did you just call me a twink?” I asked, half insulted. “I’m literally taller than you.”
Before Matt could even react, someone chuckled nearby, loud enough for us to hear. “He just did, yeah.” Looking over, I saw Puffer standing behind the counter, laughing.
“The fu—how long have you been here?” Matt asked, squinting at him.
“I saw the whole thing.”
“ Jesus Christ ,” I muttered, embarrassed, running one of my hands down my face in an attempt to alleviate the warmth growing on my cheeks. The cold drink I was still holding onto helped a bit.
“Well, can you make yourself useful and go tell Grizzy about this f*cker? Get him banned so that he can’t harass Smitty, again?”
Before Matt could go on any longer about banning the guy, Puffer shook his head. “Ain’t possible.”
“What? The f*ck you mean ‘ ain’t possible’ ?”
“Well, that guy—” Puffer points to the door that the man had left out of, “is pretty much a close friend of Grizzy’s. Call them allies, if you will,” he explains, then takes a drink from the same glass of water I had served him earlier.
“Is that right,” I wheezed out, exasperated. On the one hand, I was relieved that this wouldn’t be the last time I saw the hot guy, but on the other, the idea of seeing him again after Matt just straight-up threatened him on my behalf was… embarrassing, to say the least.
Matt, predictably so, did not look happy. “Are you kidding me? He can’t just waltz in here and start breaking the rules just because he and Grizzy happen to know each other!”
“Which rule did he break?”
“He kept harassing Smitty and then f*cking touched him without asking!” He mentioned, pointing at me over his shoulder.
‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration,’ I thought to myself, contemplating if I should actually say that or keep my mouth shut.
I saw the way Puffer took a moment to look me over, seemingly looking at something on my face, before his expression suddenly turned bitter. “Well, Smitt doesn’t seem put off by that,” he grumbled out, sounding surprisingly salty.
Matt physically paused and then turned to me, also looking at my face, before a look of disbelief twisted his expression. “Are you f*cking kidding me?”
“What?” I squeaked out, adjusting my grip on the glass. I almost forgot I was still holding it.
“You actual dumb whor* of a slu*t.”
“Don’t f*cking call me that!” I snarled, glaring at him, which just made him glare at me back.
“Wow, slu*t-shaming? Can’t blame him,” Puffer suddenly said with a laugh, and this time, the heat I felt under my skin seemed to boil with anger at his remark.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” I snapped, ready to hop over the counter and tackle Puffer if it weren’t for Matt already standing between us. It did take some effort to keep myself from throwing the cup at his head.
“Anyway—about that guy. How and why is Grizzy ‘ allies ’ with the mafia?” Matt asked, putting verbal quotations around allies, bending his fingers, and spitting the word out like it was gross for him to say.
Though, that’s not what caught my attention. “Mafia?” I asked, though Puffer was already talking over me.
“From what I’ve heard, they were already friends from school before the whole mafia thing started.” Puffer shrugged.
“f*cking hell…” Matt sighed, sounding every bit annoyed and fed up. “I told you, Smitty—that guy was bad news,” he suddenly turned to me, still displeased.
“You never elaborated further than that, though?”
“He’s also very much an asshole and a player,” Puffer suddenly pipes in, chugging the rest of his water and setting the glass down.
“How so?” I asked. Matt reached over and snagged Puffer’s empty cup off the counter, dumping it into the sink.
“Me and Grizzy used to be roommates in college, and whenever he invited the others over, that guy would always have someone new with him.”
“Ah.” That did explain why the guy was so confident and smooth; he’s likely had years of experience, perfecting his flirting and always getting what he wanted. Somehow, I wasn’t put off by that like I normally would be. Then, a thought crossed my mind. “What’s his name?”
Matt looked at me like he wanted to argue, but then turned to Puffer expectantly.
“Kryoz. Also, I wanted more water,” he says to Matt. He just rolled his eyes and filled it with tap water, no ice or anything, and slid it back to him.
“Kryoz?” I asked after laughing at the face Puffer made. “That has to be a code name.”
“It is. I dunno his real name, and Grizzy doesn’t snitch.” After begrudgingly accepting the drink, Puffer takes a sip before waving his arm at us dismissively. “Welp, you guys should probably get back to work,” he says before walking off.
Matt nods his head and stretches, then grabs a few drinks left on the counter before returning to his side of the bar. Now left to myself, I huffed to no one in particular, feeling far too drained from everything that just happened. Finally, I dumped out the guy’s glass— Kryoz’s glass, which is when something loudly fell in the sink. Sitting right on top of the mound of ice and half-eaten limes piled up on the sink stopper, I saw something that made a shudder tickle my spine once more.
A ring.
And right next to that ring, was a cherry stem with a knot in it.
꧂
5,259 Words
