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This wasn’t the type of place that Herc normally frequented, but after a mission like the one he just came off of he didn’t give a shit. All he cared was that it was dark, smokey, and there was a lot of booze.
That there was live halfway decent music was a bonus.
The first band was infinitely forgettable. He let the clink of the ice in his scotch drown them out. Herc was still too caught up in his own head to appreciate anything that perky. But as time apparently passed unnoticed by him, the clientele of the bar became less twenty somethings out to dance and more old timers in for the night.
It wasn’t until there were five empty glasses pyramided in front of him, and number six in his hand, that he even looked up from the table and glanced around. Things were quiet as the bands changed out. The bar tender came for his kills and he managed to give her a tiny smile.
He had switched to whiskey now, the edge was still sharp and he wanted something stronger. Herc zoned out, his mind literally a million miles away. The night shift band had warmed up and was into the intro of their first song by nine p.m. and Herc had been sulking in that corner booth for over five hours.
Maybe it was time to go, there was certainly enough liquor sloshing in his empty stomach to make new regrets to distract him from the mission related ones. He was contemplating getting up and closing his tab when the singer of the band opened his mouth.
For the first time all night something other than his own misery had Herc’s attention. The guy had a voice like liquid smoke, flowing over a nice grit in the low notes with the perfect hint of an accent to top it off. And the voice wasn’t even the most attractive thing about him.
Herc was mesmerized; he needed a better vantage point. Slowly, and with all his visceral training, he made his way unnoticed to the bar and settled himself in with the best view in the house. Oh yes this was much better.
The singer was tall and lean (in a pair of delightfully tight jeans which he filled out well), and had a head of pretty dark auburn hair. But what was keeping Herc’s attention, well more than the shapely ass and the unique voice, were his eyes. It was hard to assign a color to them at this distance and in this lighting, so he kept staring.
And he got caught. The singer purposefully met his eye more than once and Herc was just drunk enough to hold the gaze brazenly. Oh yeah, this was definitely mutual now. Some of the songs were ribald and his new ‘friend’ would shoot him adorable grins and winks. Others were ballads filled with puppy eyes and flirtatious hips. But Herc’s favorites were the dark ones. The songs about heartbreak and disappointment; those spoke to him the most in his current mood. They were also the songs that his paramour shined on. Guy was one hell of a guitar player too.
This dude was amazing all around, and that wasn’t just the whiskey and scotch talking, Herc might actually be having feelings- which unsettled him. So when the last song finished and the band took their bows and disappeared to the back, he signaled to the bartender (the third of his night) and asked for his tab. He needed to leave before this got more out of hand.
Everyone else had the same idea and Herc’s request got forgotten. In his agitation he fumbled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. He was so focused on that task (and drunk) that he didn’t notice that someone had sidled up close beside him. He only realized the breach of personal bubble when the barely lit smoke was delicately snatched from his fingers.
Herc’s head snapped around and he was about to snarl, but he found himself looking into the most beautiful hazel eyes he had ever seen. Oh dear lord….blue, green and soft brown all at once. He might be in love.
“Hi,” purred that beautiful and familiar voice.
Herc was at a loss for words, which was further proof of his inebriation. This was not a good testimony to his special forces training.
“I’m Scott,” the other man offered a hand for shaking, while using the other to brazenly take a puff off the pilfered cig.
“Herc,” he finally managed and took the offered hand, for perhaps four seconds too long. The bar was busy now and they were forced to stand very close together. Scott had the most adorable freckles scattered across his nose and Herc wondered where else he might find them on the lovely, firm body being pressed against him.
Someone jostled against Scott and sent him stumbling into Herc’s arms. “Oops, sorry.” He mumbled but he didn’t make to step back again. Herc couldn’t stop his arm from encircling the other man’s waist and he didn’t resist the urge to let a hand casually rest on Scott’s perfect ass (made most perfect by those jeans).
The devilish smile Scott flashed him was positively sinful; he rested both his palms on Herc’s chest and gave a little exploratory pat. The widening of that impish smile clearly meant he passed the test. This was an unexpected turn for the evening, morning, whatever….Scott leaned in and whispered in his ear….unexpected but very, very promising.
Herc looked into those hazel eyes and grinned back. This was just the kind of excitement and distraction he needed. “Come on, let’s get out of here…” he gave Scott’s ass a not to gentle squeeze.
“Thought you’d never ask.” Scott laughed, letting his nails drag down Herc’s chest, then snagged a finger through a fortuitously placed belt loop to lead his conquest away. Herc followed willingly, unable to stop smirking like an idiot. He had the distinct feeling he was in for a wild ride and there was still enough whiskey muddying his blood to make him game for anything.