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It had been a low, calling whistle that had made you jump, eyes darting up from your phone and connecting with the troll in front of you. He doesn’t even give you a moment to let you open your mouth before he’s already talking, “well, hey, pretty thing, can’t say I’ve seen you around here before. You new in town?”
You raise an eyebrow at him, making a point to look him up and down because, well, you’re standing outside a nightclub and getting hit on isn’t completely unexpected or out of the question. There’s an unlit cigarette dangling from his lip, slicked back hair and leather jacket overall reminding you of a greaser in a way that should make him look like a massive douche but instead only makes him look like kind of a douche. For the most part he’s sort of cute and definitely your type. So you smile at him. “No, but my friend decided to drag me to a different club for a change," you admit, still holding onto your phone in case he does turn out to be a massive douche after all. "Just came outside for a breather."
He perks up, seeming surprised that you'd actually engage him in conversation, rather than calling him an asshole and telling him to fuck off. Walking up, he leans against the wall next to you and folds his arms across his chest. "Yeah, shit can get crowded sometimes, I get that." He grins, doing a near perfect impression of a fuck boy, offering you a nod in greeting, "Cronus," he introduces himself, and you gave your name in turn. "Gorgeous name for a gorgeous babe." You snort at him, hating to admit that his ridiculous flirting attempts are somewhat working on you. Maybe it's the single drink you had before you stepped outside working its way through you, or maybe he is just that cute.
"Yeah, well you're not too bad yourself," you hum in return, slipping your phone into your jacket pocket and leaning towards him, and you're honestly surprised when Cronus completely freezes. He looks like he hadn't actually expected you to flirt back with him, cheeks flushing purple and hands dropping to fiddle with the zipper on his jacket as he gives a slightly awkward laugh and, oh yeah, he's definitely cute when he's flustered. You really hadn't decided to go out tonight with the aim of finding someone to flirt with, admittedly, but there's no reason to not take this opportunity now that it's presented itself. So, grinning mostly to yourself, you continue, "I mean, I was just planning on hanging out with my friends tonight, but I wouldn't mind spending some time chatting, especially with someone as cute as you."
You've never exactly been the best at flirting but the way it seems to catch Cronus out makes something warm curl in your chest. "You, uh," he stumbles a little, "you think I'm cute? I mean- yeah! Of course you do, because I obviously am- super cute, in fact!" You can't help but laugh at him, good naturedly, and you decide to play a little game with yourself, just to see how flustered you can make him and how quickly, and you move to rest an arm on his bicep. It's admittedly a cheap move one of your friend's taught you, but it clearly works because Cronus tenses for a second.
"Yeah, I'm loving this whole greaser aesthetic you've got going on," you tell him, running your hand down his arm, as if you were only feeling the soft leather of his jacket and not the surprisingly toned muscles that lay underneath. "It really suits you." You step into his space a little, just an excuse to get close to him, your other hand slowly moving to touch his hip, keeping a close eye on his face in case you're making him uncomfortable, which is obviously not the goal here. He lets you but you notice his hesitance and pause, telling him, "I can back off if I'm being too touchy-feely?"
"No! Ah-" Cronus clears his throat. "You're- you're fine." As if trying not to show his nerves, a hand rests on your hip in return. “I just wasn’t expecting you to jump at me so quickly s’all. I get that I’m irresistible and all but people usually at least pretend to hold themselves back.”
Slipping your hand up under his jacket to rest on his waist, you pluck the unlit cigarette from his mouth and tuck it into the top pocket of his jacket, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your face. “Yeah, well,” your hand moves around to rest on the back of his neck, sliding up into his hair, “I’m not usually one to hold back.” Cronus’ face goes violet as he makes a choking sound, cigarette falling to the floor, ear fins positively shaking. You jump back. “Shit, sorry, man, I thought you were putting out feelers and-“ his hand catches your wrist.
“No- no, I was, it’s just…” he steps back towards you although he’s not looking you in the eyes anymore. “Shit, I dunno, people don’t usually flirt back with me, and then you came in so confident with it. It just kinda caught me off.” His thumb brushes against your wrist like he doesn’t want to let go, avoiding your gaze, almost trying to hide his face in his jacket and he looks so much like a kicked puppy that you almost want to kiss him then and there, if only to cheer him back up.
Your hand rests back on his bicep, not wanting to push too far so soon, stepping back into his space. “Well, those people are clearly missing out,” you tell him. “You wanna go inside? I could buy you a drink.” If nothing else, it would be a good start, comfortable under the buzz of a little alcohol and the blaring noise and lights of the nightclub. Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had a little bump and grind with a complete stranger; at least this is a stranger you know the name of.
“Ah, thanks for the offer, chief, but I don’t drink. I wouldn’t mind dancin’ with you though. Or maybe … we could get coffee sometime?” It’s admirable that he manages to bounce back so quickly.
“You could come back to my place for coffee?” you offer, and you almost want to laugh at the sound he makes as his grip on your wrist tightens for a second, doing a very accurate impression of a goldfish. “Just coffee though,” you quickly add, “I don’t kiss on the first date; not even for guys as cute as you.”
“This is a date?” He says it so quickly that you do laugh this time.
“Sure, why not.” You gently pull your arm from his grasp to let it rest on his chest. His heart is pounding so hard you can feel it. “You can come back to mine, I can make us some coffee and we can chat.”
He nods, dumbly, arms coming up to wrap around your waist like he’s not paying attention to them, too busy staring at you like you’re suddenly going to change your mind. “Uh-huh. I’m totally down for a coffee. I can get an Uber home after, sure.”
You grin, appreciating that he seems so happy to take whatever you’ll give him and not push for more. “Great. I only live a block away, you can give me your number while we walk.”