Chapter Text
Sharply inhaling through his nose, Izzy pocketed his cellphone before he impulsively chucked it across the table at his date. Ed, his best friend of god knows how many years had set him up on a date with a man from his workplace. When Ed had essentially broke into Izzy’s home earlier that day, he swore that this time he had really found a good catch for Izzy. And being himself, Izzy blindly followed his friends advice. He put on his most attractive clothing options (that weren’t covered in tiny grey hairs belonging to his cat Blackbeard) and met his aforementioned date later that evening.
That was an hour ago, and Izzy was ready to leave forty five minutes ago when his date had ordered two glasses of beer for himself. And now here Izzy sat, picking at his salmon and hoping for an act of god to strike him dead. His binder was riding up, his ass hurt from the seat he sat in, and truthfully he just wanted to go home and watch mind numbing television with Blackbeard.
When his phone dinged, he didn’t even bother being discreet. At this point, he didn’t care about making a good impression. Plucking the device out of his pocket, he looked at the new message from.. Stede?
After putting his phone back in his pocket, Izzy glanced at his dates third glass. Empty. “Oh, Howard it seems you need another beer I’ll go grab it.” Izzy said, it was the first thing he had said in the past ten minutes. Howard, still searching for the lost piece of steak, watched as Izzy rose from his seat.
“Uh, yeah sure. You’d think the waitress would have noticed by now.” Howard remarked, Izzy gave him a slight nod and a tight smile as he turned on his heels towards his destination.
At the bar, he was just out of Howard’s line of sight and he blended well with the dimmer lights in the area. Noticing only two other people, a pair of women having a seemingly wonderful time with a bottle of what looked like red wine, Izzy sat at the stool at the farther end of the bar.
“So you’re either a teenager with the most realistic fake goatee I’ve ever seen, or you’re just really short.” A gruff voice from the opposite end of the bar spoke, Izzy turned his attention away from the general direction of his table and towards the bartender, a man with long shaggy hair and a horseshoe mustache. “What?” Izzy asked, genuinely confused by this man’s statement.
“Ah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya. What can I getcha?” The bartender, who Izzy had learned was named Jack after glancing at the man’s nametag. “Oh.. nothing, for now.” Izzy responded, glancing back to his table. Glancing back to Jack after making sure Howard hadn’t noticed he was gone yet, Izzy silently studied him as Jack made a drink.
Not only was this Jack fairly tall, but from what Izzy could see from the rolled sleeves of Jacks tan shirt, he was fairly well built. He had tattoos here and there from what Izzy could see, and a distinct burn scar moving up his left arm. But what truly caught Izzy’s attention, we’re the blue eyes that caught his own staring as he set the drink down in front of Izzy. Izzy did indeed watch Jack make the drink, but staring at the drink, all Izzy could really think of at the moment was the flexing of Jacks arms as he shook the cocktail shaker while making the drink.
“I said-“
“I know what ya said, it’s on the house. Look like you’re having a shit night.” Said Jack, cutting Izzy. Izzy looked at the glass, it was just an average reddish orange drink with a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. “What.. is it?” Izzy asked, he’d only ever had occasional glasses of brandy or whiskey, on a rare occasion a mimosa with Lucius and Fang.
“Planters punch. Rum, orange juice, pineapple juice, grenadine, simple syrup, lemon juice, and bitters. I spice it up with grapefruit juice instead of orange, though.” Jack replied, Izzy scrunched his nose as Jack mentioned pineapple. He wasn’t a particular fan of the fruit, mostly due to his childhood fears of it eating him (thanks “fun facts for kids” in the daily newspaper) but seeing Jacks expression, the odd excitement for Izzy to try the drink, made him muster the courage to try it.
Izzy took a sip, and was surprised to be met with the distinct flavors of grapefruit and grenadine, with a small kick from the rum. No pineapple at all.
“This is.. quite nice actually.” Izzy didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but Jack didn’t seem to notice as he flashed a proud smile.
Oh god, that was cute. A man with a horseshoe mustache shouldn’t be cute.
“Appreciate that. So, what’s going on nameless guy in all black who keeps looking to the left like a ninjas gonna jump through the window any minute?” Jack asked, propping his elbow on the bar and keeping his eyes, those freakishly blue eyes (seriously was it the lighting??), on Izzy. “Oh, date gone wrong. My friend set me up with this man and he is.. absolutely disgusting.” Izzy felt better, verbally telling someone about how awful Howard was. The drink he sipped helped as well. “And.. it’s Israel. My name.” Izzy added, only his friends, and stede, called him Izzy and even though Jack the bartender was quite friendly, he wasn’t his friend. Yet.
“Israel.. cool. So Israel what’s your plan, gonna camp here until your guy leaves with his tail between his legs?” Jack inquired, Izzy took another sip from his drink and shook his head. “No, I’m supposed to pay for my part of the bill, wait ten minutes and then leave but.. a certain bartender called me a teenager and short within the same breath.” Izzy remarked, Jack laughed. “I was just bustin’ your balls, man. Who’s your server?” Jack asked, Izzy thought for a moment. He hadn’t really looked at her nametag, but he knew who she was.
“Uh.. shoulder length purple hair, glasses, and a button on the collar of her shirt?” Izzy replied, hoping that description would be enough. “Bea! Great, gimme a second.” Jack said, moving from behind the bar and heading in the direction to where his date was.
Izzy heard the ping of a message from his phone once again, looking to find that he has several missed messages from stede.
Shit, even while talking about the plan Izzy had totally forgotten about it. Izzy typed up a quick message.
Okay, maybe Izzy was finding a little too much enjoyment in picturing Ed panicking over his well being. But that enjoyment was quickly pushed aside as Jack returned to the bar, that smile back on his face with just a glimmer of mischief.
“You ain’t gotta worry about your date anymore.” Jack said plainly, picking up the now empty glass (when did Izzy drink all of that?) and popping the slice of pineapple from the rim into his mouth. It took everything in Izzy not to watch this very strange man chew on a piece of fruit.
“And why’s that?” Izzy asked casually, watching as jack typed something in the POS system to his left. A receipt came up from the machine, jack tore it off and looked at the sheet of paper. “..fuck hold on.” Jack said, putting the paper down so he could grab.. no.
Brown toned wire frame glasses from beside the POS. He put them on, and then picked the paper up again. “Bea split your stuff from his, good thing too that asshole isn’t worth eighty six dollars.” Izzy wasn’t quite paying attention, all he could look at were the glasses.
Jack took them off and slid the receipt over to Izzy. ‘Right I’m still supposed to-‘ Izzy’s thoughts were cut off as he read the receipt. Everything was correct, an iced tea with the salmon, but it was marked as payed.
“I..” Izzy couldn’t say much as he looked back up at Jack. “On me, on one condition.” Jack said, twisting the left end of his mustache as he spoke. Izzy raised an eyebrow, indicating for Jack to continue. “Lemme take you home, Israel.” Jack said, his tone deep and his vague southern accent only thickened his words.
On any other occasion, Izzy would be offended. Why would he let some random man he barley knew learn where he lives? Let alone trust said man to “take him home”… but this man wasn’t some random man. This man had saved him from an awful evening, and had oddly charmed his way into what was almost a date. Izzy looked down at the receipt, then back up at Jack. He took the receipt and nodded.
“If you insist.” Izzy replied. Jacks coy look changed into another one of his beaming smiles.
After watching Jack close up the bar (“we close in half an hour anyway it don’t matter”) Izzy left the restaurant with Jack, and sent a text to Ed.
Deciding to take Jacks truck since Ed had drove Izzy to the restaurant, Izzy climbed up into the aged silver ford. Holding back a smile as Jack helped him up into the vehicle.
Once Jack was in the drivers seat, he turned the truck on and looked at Izzy. “So, where to Israel?” He asked, Izzy thought for a moment before sighing.
Fuck it.
“Call me Izzy.. how do you feel about cats?”