Chapter Text
I used to think of myself as rather respectable citizen. That is, until I met him.
I saw the chap slouched at the old, mahogany bar, squiffy, clearly, drinking whiskey after whiskey after whiskey. I watched him from the corner as his lips met the glass for the 5th time, the gentle hum of chatter failing to distract me as I gazed at him from the corner of the room, feeling much like an outlier, with it being my first experience with an... establishment... such as this one, he sipped from the glass, the amber coloured liquid trickled into his mouth.
I suppose I looked slightly... peculiar, staring at him in such a way, but no one appeared to be paying any attention, and if there was a place for one gentleman to stare in such a way at another gentleman, then I supposed that this was the place to do it.
God Gerald, pull yourself together man, even the other queers will think you're a weirdo. I muttered to myself, under my breath, would hate to make a terrible first impression, would hate to be that creep staring at a squiffy chap from the back of the bar, would hate to be exiled from Brumleys secret queer bars for being that creep staring at a squiffy chap at the back of the bar.
Yet, for some reason, I failed to take my eyes off him, he drew me in, you see, couldn't say why, he just did. Perhaps it was something about his messy, dirty blonde hair, that was draped on the bar, where his head lay, maybe it was the spark in his eyes that glittered like the burning ember of a fire, his crooked smile, his beautiful, crooked, mischevious smile that he had, the one that somehow lit up the room, despite the fact that he had no one next to him whom he could share it with, other than a half arsed bartender, whom had probably seen 10 chaps like him in the past hour.
My breath hitched as I saw the bartender frown at him.
"Listen, this is your last drink, Eric, you can't just sit here all night" She muttered, serving him a shot of vodka, which he downed without hesitation
"So be it." He grinned as he fumbled around his pockets for money, his speech slurred.
My heart began to race, if he left, then 10 minuets of staring at such a handsome figure, would be for nothing. Yet I felt paralysed. I had never spoken to a chap under such circumstances before, I had only fantasized about doing so before. I kept my eyes locked on him, holding my breath, for whatever forsaken reason.
"Eric, please tell me you have the cash... you're already in debt to this place, y'know?" tutted the bartender as Eric checked his bag for spear cash, desperately
"I'm afraid this is your last chance. Eric if you don't give me the amount owed tonight in the next 10 seconds..." They murmured, agitated
At that moment, I knew I had to do something, chiviralously, I walced over to the bar, and put 50 whole pounds down on the counter.
"I'm paying for his drinks tonight, I'd assume this covers whatever he owes you. Keep the change."
I had no clue what I had gotten myself into.