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"Gimme the strongest you got."
Frank looked up from his beer and over to the guy sitting down at the bar two seats to his right. His slumped figure couldn't hide how tall he was, the tight black leather pants and white shirt clinging to his frame showing off a lean body. Handsome, he thought to himself.
"Shitty day?" the barman wanted to know.
"Long one, especially," the newcomer deflected.
After a suppressed sigh, Frank drained his beer and nodded to the barman.
"Ew. What's this stuff? I wanted something strong!" the new guest complained, however, when the barman had just turned his attention to Frank.
"This is the strongest I've got." The dim light fell on his name plate. Husk. Matched his voice.
"Bah!" The newcomer ran his long fingers through his tousled mop of white-blond hair, throwing his head back arrogantly. "What kinda place is this?"
Husk snorted and took a bottle from the shelf, holding it under his nose. "You don't get this in any dive bars, baby, so keep your head down."
"Woah," Frank exclaimed as he recognized the label, "this stuff will blow your head off."
"Maybe to you," Blondie returned snippily, "but that stuff gives me nothing."
"It only gets harder if you spike things, but you can forget about that here," Husk grumbled and put the bottle down.
Blondie snorted, swinging his long legs around as if he wanted to leave.
"I don't know what your problem is, but alcohol certainly isn't the solution," Frank remarked cautiously. On closer inspection, the white shirt looked as if it actually belonged to a woman, at least the deep round neckline and the pink heart painted on it said so.
"No," Husk muttered dryly, "but a distillate."
Blondie snorted again. "I'm not looking for a solution either, honey, I just wanna blow my head off." He placed his hand with glittering silver nails on the counter, leaned back and eyed Frank appraisingly. "But you seem to be lookin' for something, the way you were staring into your beer a moment ago."
Frank offered a shrug. "A solution, yes, but I certainly won't find it in there." He nodded in the direction of the new beer that Husk pushed over to him.
"What's the problem?" Husk wanted to know.
Blondie propped his chin in his hand, his long torso literally sprawled across the counter.
"My boyfriend and I have broken up for the third - well, fourth time," Frank mumbled, a little ashamed.
"With all due respect, but you can probably bury your hopes," Husk remarked neutrally.
"Right." Blondie nodded. "So maybe you should blow your head off after all."
Frank grimaced.
"Or..." Blondie let the tip of his shoe move along Frank's leg, "I'll blow something else off..." His smile was a little too wide, his eyes - one colorless gray, the other dark brown - too wide.
"Thanks, but sex isn't the answer either." Frank sighed. "I learned that the hard way."
"Pun intended?" Husk wanted to know dryly.
Grimacing, Frank shook his head. "No."
"Solutions, always solutions!" Blondie ran his fingers dramatically through his hair again. "Honey, sex is there to clear your head."
"A distraction. An escape," Husk specified, shaking his head. "Just doesn't help much, I agree with him." He nodded towards Frank.
"Fucking hell, you guys are boring." Blondie rolled her eyes. "I mean, do you get an offer like that every day?" Brows raised, he pointed at himself and Frank had to grin.
"Admittedly, no. I don't usually say no to a handsome guy, but-"
"Lemme guess," Husk interrupted him, "but that's exactly why your boyfriend left you."
"Yeah," Frank mumbled meekly.
"Honey, that's exactly why you shouldn't say no now." Blondie splayed himself on the counter again, but this time more in Frank's direction. "I know how to have a few unforgettable hours..."
"By all that's holy, Angel, shut up," Husk growled.
Frank raised a brow.
Blondie, who was obviously called Angel, pointed at Husk with his thumb. "He knows it, at least in theory."
"I don't want to know exactly..." Frank said cautiously. For once, his cock was still and silent in the presence of a hot guy.
"Listen to the man and leave him alone."
"Boring." grumbled Angel, swinging around in his seat and eyeing his nails.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Husk wanted to know. He filled a glass with something and pushed it towards Angel, who took it and drank, pretending not to listen.
"I don't know..." Frank replied. Was he going to tell his story to a bartender and a stranger who was eager for sex? He looked at Angel again. Compared him mentally with Dante.
"If it has to do with sex, we want to hear it, honey," Angel then remarked.
"You're all about sex, huh?" Husk sighed, obviously only rhetorically, and Angel laughed affectedly.
"Of course."
Frank was still hesitant. "Sex isn't the solution, it's the problem," he finally said.
Angel snorted and when Husk gave him a warning look, he scrutinized his nails again. "Like seriously, how can sex be a problem?" he mumbled half into his glass, actually sounding like he meant the opposite.
"The story's a bit longer," Frank heard himself say.
"We've got all the time in the world," Husk assured him, showing a subtle smile for the first time.
"We're all ears, honey. Don't leave out any juicy details," Angel added.
"Angel..."
"All right, all right..."
Frank sighed, eyeing his beer. "Well..."