Work Text:
It was a stormy and windy Friday night when Silas Cunningham approached a nondescript door nestled in a dark alleyway. A buff man opened the small window at the door and asked quietly, “password?”
Silas let out a small sigh before raising his hand and flicking his wrist downward, adding as much sass as he could muster after such a long day. The man seemed satisfied with Silas’ response and proceeded to unlock the door, letting Silas slide in. He closed the door behind him and glanced back, giving a smirk as he watched Silas smooth out clothes.
“You look awfully fancy to be coming here this late at night.”
Silas gave the man a disapproving look and walked into the bar without a word. The bar was a place the young man was most familiar with, however he still felt a hint of anxiety, not only because he was well known, but because he had a reputation for getting into trouble. Not that the trouble was his fault, it was always drunkards who recognized his fancy clothes and immediately knew he was worth a pretty penny.
Nevertheless, Silas took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders as he ran his hand through his hair that had been held back by gel all day and sauntered into the room full of horny people and alcohol. Upon his arrival, several people looked over and Silas saw recognition on their faces, but this was a safe place and therefore, nobody had any right to comment on what people did outside of the dark bar.
With a confidence that Silas had spent years perfecting, he walked over the bar and took a seat next to a disheveled and tired looking man who was sipping a drink. Deciding the man was unimportant, Silas attempted to gain the barkeeper's attention.
“Hello, darling. I’ll have my usual,” he said in his signature sultry voice. The barkeeper looked unfazed by his charm and went to pour his drink. As he waited, Silas turned around and surveyed the rest of the bar. The room was dark except for the flashing lights coming from the dance floor. The floor was filled with same sex pairs of people grinding and dancing against each other to the tune of the disco/club music. The bar was on the left wall of the room with the dance floor to the right and chairs and tables lining the perimeter. The remnants of a deconstructed stage littered the far walls and Silas knew the stage was reserved for drag shows and whatever other performances that occasionally occurred.
He turned back to the countertop, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he did so. Seeing as his drink had been served, he picked up it and downed it quickly, enjoying the feeling of the liquid burning his throat as it went down. He tilted his head back and let the stress of the day melt off as the alcohol entered his body. The disheveled man next to him caught Silas’ eye as he appeared to have been watching him as he drank his shot. The man was scrawny and looked as if he had been living off of coffee and bread for the past week. His eyes showed his exhaustion, however there was a sharp glint to them that Silas was sure no amount of tiredness could extinguish. His hair was messy and sticking up awkwardly, yet Silas found it attractive and endearing. The black painted nails, intelligent face and possible splatter of blood on the man's coat led Silas to believe he was some sort of deranged killer or possibly a mad doctor. Whatever the case, the disordered appearance of the man in contrast to the pristine look of Silas gave him a strange sort of amusement and curiosity. Two completely different men, yet sharing the same aura of sadistic insight and drive, something that Silas had never come across before.
“Hello, sir.” Silas said, deciding he should probably converse with the man instead of simply staring at him.
The man's face slipped into an almost imperceivable smirk as he replied, “Hello, there.”
Silas carefully watched the man’s expression as he spoke, “How are you this fine night?”
The man appeared to grimace for a split second before returning to its previous expression as the man answered, “I’m doing alright. A bit tired, but nothing a drink can’t fix. And yourself?”
“I’m doing quite well myself. It’s nice to get to unwind after a day’s work, wouldn’t you agree?” Silas stated, eyeing what was most definitely blood on the man’s coat.
The man gave a dry laugh and replied, “That's funny coming from you. You know, I would never expect to find someone like you here, but here you are, in a gay bar at 11 o'clock on a Friday night. What, none of your rich friends had any fancy parties for you to attend?”
Now it was Silas’ turn to grimace as his status had successfully followed him into the one place he thought he could enjoy without worry. “Damn and here I was thinking I would be free from my outside life and actions. It’s a pity to see they’ve followed me all the way down here.”
“Yeah, well with your family’s reputation I imagine it follows you no matter where you go.” The man pushed a hand through his hair, succeeding in messing it up even more.
Silas watched in strange fascination at the man’s movement before remembering the direction their conversation was going. “Well, it seems you already know who I am, so how about you tell me about yourself?”
“Very well, I suppose there’s no reason to start a fight with someone such as yourself,” the man took a sip of his drink that had been left unattended for the past few minutes, “my name is Wensforth and I’m a scientist.”
Silas smiled, pleased to be able to put a name to the face that he’d been conversing with, “Wensforth…that’s an awfully interesting name. Are your parents royal or something?” Silas had been half joking when he said that but from the uncomfortable look on Wensforth's face, he appeared to be at least somewhat correct.
“Something like that. My parents also just hated me from birth so they thought it would be fitting to give me a name that I hate as well,” Wensforth said bitterly before looking regretful and forcing his face to return to a neutral expression.
“Well, names aren’t everything, as I hope you come to learn. Either way, you said you were a scientist, what kind of scientist?” Silas asked, taking a sip of the second part of his usual order that had been neglected and deciding to light a cigarette.
Wensforth finished off his drink before scrunching his face and putting his glass down, looking into the bottom of it.
“Something wrong?” Silas asked, watching Wensforth curiously as he let out the smoke exit his lungs.
Wensforth ran his finger along the inside of the glass and inspected something on his fingers. “Someone put rohypnol in my drink,” he said casually.
“Pardon?”
“Rohypnol” Wensforth repeated, “I’ve been roofied.”
Silas’ eyes flashed first with concern then with confusion, “You’ve been roofied?! How do you know and why don’t you seem to be affected?”
“I’m guessing it was sometime during our conversation when I had forgotten about my drink,” he said, without worry. “Well at least now you know what kind of scientist I am.”
That response didn’t exactly answer Silas’ question, but the man was already standing up and paying his bill before Silas could inquire any further. “Where are you going? Shouldn’t you wait until the drug wears off?”
Wensforth smirked before leaning in close and whispering, “you ask too many questions, it's awfully annoying.”
Silas smirked as well, maintaining direct eye contact and blowing cigarette smoke into the other man’s face, making Wensforth scowl yet Silas didn't fail to notice the faint blush that appeared on his face. “Well luckily for you, I enjoy getting the answers and results I desire so you best get used to it.”
“Are you implying we will see each other again?”
“Perhaps, I do find you quite interesting and would like to know more about you.”
Wensforth straightened and looked down at Silas. He scoffed before turning to leave without another word.
“Goodbye Wendy!” Silas said with a devilish smile on his face.
Wensforth spun around, his face a mixture of offense and surprise. “What did you just call me?”
“Wendy,” Silas said again, “you said you hated your name so I figured I could give you a nickname and I think Wendy fits.”
“Whatever,” Wensforth said dismissively. He walked a few steps before turning back once again and saying, “goodbye, Silas Cunningham.” Then he walked out the door leaving Silas alone.
Silas turned back to the bar and took another puff from his cigarette and decided against finishing his drink. He paid his bill and walked out of the bar, feeling satisfied with his encounter but craving more. His desire to learn more about Wendy was surely going to lead him to do dangerous and possibly illegal things, but it wasn’t the first time, so with a smile on his face, he crushed his cigarette under his foot and headed back home, excited for the events to come.