His name is Mark, and he has no idea why he’s at this bar.
It started a week ago. Not his visit, that is, but his reason for coming. Being juniors in college, his friends were all rejoicing in their newfound ability to legally drink- despite the fact that he, still being twenty, could not. As the first semester’s finals ended yesterday, the gang had all decided that celebration via public intoxication was the way to go.
He didn’t often go out, though he felt guilty about it. Socializing with strangers was just hard for him. It was why this group, whom he’d met at his summer orientation before freshman year, was the only group of friends he had. But he’d blown them off on outings all semester, so it seemed like the end of finals was a good enough reason to break the trend.
But then, an hour ago, Eric texted him to cancel. Ten minutes later, Ashley bailed too. Dave announced via their facebook thread that he was sick when Mark got into the line before the bouncer, and his partner Evelyn followed suit as he walked through the door. He held out hope that Cynthia might show for ten minutes, but as he leaned awkwardly against a wall in a vain attempt to seem nonchalant, her inevitable apology rang from his phone.
So here he was, in a bar he’d never gone to before, with no one he’d ever spoken to or made eye contact with, and he couldn’t even get drunk. And he’d blown ten bucks on the cover charge, too. Tonight was going to be the best night of his life, clearly.
With a sigh, he pulled out his phone again and opened his ebook reader. At least the music here would suit the new sci-fi novel he’d downloaded.
About thirty minutes passed in this manner before a nicely manicured hand reached over his screen and pulled it away. He jumped, and looked over to see that a girl—a hot girl, at that—had taken it from him and was reading in his stead.
“Hey, uh,” he stammered, “that’s mine.”
“I figured, seeing as you were reading it rather than listening to me,” she responded without looking up. “This looks pretty good. Who’s it by?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I, what? Give me back my phone, what the fuck.”
She grinned—oh my god, he thought— and offered it back. “Sorry, maybe I’m being too forward. I’m Alyssa. I’ve passed you three times to ask if you wanted a drink, but you kept ignoring me. I wanted to see what was more interesting than me.”
“I, uh, I didn’t hear you. Sorry. The music in here is kind of loud, and I was distracted, er,”
She flashed him that amazing smile again, nearly stopping his heart as he floundered for words. “You’re more of a talker than I expected! It’s okay, I’m just razzing you. But my ego’s a little hurt! Are you gonna take me up on that drink, or should I go fuck myself so you can keep reading?”
“Uh, sure. Wait! I mean, yes, I’d like a drink. You don’t have to go fuck yourself.” He cursed inwardly, as this was going terribly.
She gestured towards the bar. “Well, c’mon. What’ll you have?”
He followed her over, not sure what to make of the situation. An alarmingly pretty girl was going out of her way to talk to him, and even wanted to buy him a drink? No way. He wasn’t an ugly dude, but neither was he anything to write home about. This had to be some kind of set-up.
The bartender looked up at the girl, ignoring him. “Hey, Lyss. Whatcha drinkin’?”
“A whiskey and coke, Jack.” She smiled, as though telling an inside joke.
“You want the Daniels, or the well?” The tender seemed to be in on it.
“The real thing. And whatever this strapping young man wants.”
Jack—if that was his name? Mark wasn’t sure at this point— finally looked at him. “I’ll have the same, please.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow at the girl, who winked. Shrugging, he poured the drinks quick as a flash and pushed them across, turning to tap his screen. “Putting this on your tab, then. To your health!”
Mark took his drink as casually as he could, taking a small sip. The whiskey rolled over his tongue, burning a little bit but not terribly. It was much better than the ugly taste of the vodka that Eric insisted on buying. Shit, the girl was talking to him again.
“What was that?” he asked.
“My god, you’re really bad at listening!” She sighed, and took a big gulp of her drink. “I said, we should go sit down. C’mon, the roof has a porch where you can feel the breeze.”
“Sorry. Sure, lead the way.”
He took another sip as she led him across the room again towards a set of stairs. Whiskey. He was going to have to insist on getting it for the next party he attended. Her legs looked really fucking good going up the stairs, he thought, as he almost tripped watching them go.
“Here, this is my favorite place to sit,” she said with a gesture towards the railing. He sat as directed, wondering if she was going to explain why she was talking to him after all.
“So, what are you studying?”
What?
“Er, I’m a history major. I’m studying Europe right now.”
“All of Europe, huh? Seems like a lot to take in.”
He frowned a little. “No, no, it’s more complicated than that. I-”
“I’m sure, Kartal Olgun Escort I’m just giving you a hard time. You’re kind of cute when you get flustered.”
That stopped him in his tracks. “I, what?”
She chuckled softly, and patted his leg while she took another drink.
“Like that, yeah. It’s adorable. And I’m nobody to talk, I’m a graduate student in discrete mathematics. I don’t have any room to be teasing someone else for a nerdy major.”
He considered that for a moment. “I guess all majors are kind of nerdy when you get down to it.”
She shook her head. “No, not theatre majors. Those are just fucking dorks.”
He laughed, and then caught himself. Is this… small talk? Why is a pretty girl like her small-talking with me?
She raised her eyebrow at him, and he covered his pause by hastily taking another drink.
“So, Mister Sits-In-A-Corner-Reading, what’s your name?”
He gulped heavily, and then coughed. “Uh, I’m Mark. Why do you ask?”
She tilted her head a little to the side. “Well, I did just buy you a drink. It’s probably polite to at least ask your name before I take you home.”
He blushed as red as his shirt, and she cracked up. “Oh my gosh, you’re adorable! I’m just teasing you again. Don’t worry, I won’t eat you up without asking permission. No, I just saw you looking like a wallflower and I wanted to see what your story was.”
He very studiously made eye contact with his drink. “I, uh, sorry. I don’t really get out much.”
“You don’t say.”
“Hush! You’re being kind of mean. All of my friends bailed on me and then you come along buying me drinks and saying distracting things. Who put you up to this? Was it Eric? I’m gonna kick his ass.”
He realized he was babbling, and stopped. For once, she was silent, so he turned to apologize.
“Sorry, I-”
“You apologize so much. Are you Canadian?”
He frowned again.
She sighed, and looked up at the sky. “No, I don’t know Eric. If it’s so weird for you to talk to me, I’ll just go. Sorry to bother you.”
She stood and started to walk away.
“Wait. That was mean of me, too.”
Alyssa stopped, and turned back. “Oh thank god. I was going to feel really ugly if I got shot down by a history nerd.”
She was razzing him again. Maybe he should..?
“Well, that’s what math is for in history. Divide and conquer.”
She scowled at him a little. “That didn’t even make any sense, but you get half-credit for trying.” She sat back down.
Shockingly, the rest of the night seemed to fly past. Alyssa, it turned out, was three years older than he was, enrolled the same university, and lived two blocks from him in one of the really nice apartment complexes just outside of campus. She also chugged her whiskey like a lifer, leaving to get four more refills for herself and one for him as the night went on. She was a biting tease, but as he got used to it he found it charming in a shithead sort of way. She seemed genuinely interested in listening to him talk about what he was studying, which was a surprise as he had never been met with anything but polite silence prior.
“Hey, I’m pretty sure that was last call,” she said suddenly.
“What’s last call?”
She looked at him in confusion, and then smiled. “Oh, you’re probably never here that late. Last call is-”
“I’ve never been here at all, actually”
“-is when the bar is about to close, so they shut down the bar about fifteen minutes early so people can get any last drinks before they go.”
He nodded. “Makes sense, then. Do you need one more to top you off, then?”
She shook her head. “No, I’d end up taking you home for real if I did that.”
He blushed again as she continued. “And while I’m sure it would be delightful, I think you’d probably fall asleep on me as soon as you got through the door. No, let’s vamoose so we can avoid the door rush.”
He followed her down the stairs and through the bar towards the entrance, still bemused. She really needed to quit it with the fake come-ons.
As they left, she gestured towards him with an elbow. “Does my maiden fair require my arm as we walk?”
He rolled his eyes. “And you were calling ME a nerd. Come on, it’s cold. Do the busses even run this late?”
She nodded, then turned to set off briskly. “There’s three more busses heading our way after last call. We can catch the second if we walk fast, or the first if we run.”
“What about the third?”
“Well, if you want to freeze your balls off waiting an hour at the stop, you can be my guest.”
Fair enough, he thought.
He walked beside her, noticing for the first time that she stood almost as tall as his six feet. Lot of leg on her, he decided.
They reached the stop shortly, breath steaming in the chill of night. For the season, it was startlingly warm, but still cold enough to make him regret the threadbare state of his coat.
“So, are you gonna come out again next week?”
“Uh, I dunno. I don’t really go out all that much.”
She pouted softly. “That’s a terrible way to decline. Come on, Kartal Sarışın Escort what’s the worst that could happen? A hot babe like me buys you more drinks?”
“I, well. I should probably be honest with you here.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “What, have you been lying? Oh no. Please don’t tell me you’re a theatre major. I would feel so betrayed if I bought drinks for a theatre major.”
He laughed despite himself. “No, it’s not that. I’m, uh. I’m gay. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”
She stared at him blankly as the bus rolled up to the stop. They got on, her still silent.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Why would that change me wanting you to come out?”
“What?”
She frowned at him, crossing her arms. “I mean, sure, I was hitting on you, but that’s just my thing, you know? Like, you’re cute and all but why would you being gay mean I wouldn’t want you to come out again?”
“I dunno, I just figured what with all the talk about taking me home and all…”
She huffed a little. “Well, sure. You’ve got that ‘please tie me up and tease me’ vibe going on, and maybe it’s a shame you aren’t into girls. Still, you never know. Maybe you’re bi and you don’t know it. Maybe I just want someone who doesn’t gag on decent whiskey to sit with me and chat about nothing in particular, you nerdlord.”
He shrugged helplessly. “Well, okay. I’m sorry I got weird on you about it. I guess I can come out again if it’s that important to you.”
Her face cleared, and she hit him with that gloriously distracting smile again. If only she was a guy, he thought wistfully.
“Alright then! It’s a, uh, a date. A date on the calendar, upon which we will hang out and get shitfaced on. Sound good?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure thing.”
“Great! Get the fuck off the bus.”
“What?”
“This is your stop, Mark. See you soon!”
He got the fuck off the bus.
It would be convenient to say the week passed in a flash. It didn’t. It dragged on and on, like a bad simile, or a shitty anecdote told in maudlin manner by an aged and potentially senile grandfather hell-bent on wasting as much of his grandchildren’s time as he could so that they’d accomplish nothing more than he did before kicking the bucket into the endless void that wa-
“Hey, Mark! I thought for sure you’d bail on me.”
Alyssa had wandered into the room, jolting him from his spiraling reverie. He waved as she approached.
“I see we’re still doing the cool kid act and leaning against a wall like a badass, then. Where’s your book?”
He shrugged. “I finished it when I woke up last Saturday. I don’t have anything new yet.”
She grimaced. “I know the feeling. In math, we don’t get new books but every decade.”
He rolled his eyes as she laughed at her own joke.
“So, will I be buying the drinks again tonight?”
He smiled brightly at this. “Only until midnight.”
She looked sideways at him. “Aw, are you gonna ditch me early?”
He shook his head and pulled out his wallet. “No, no. I mean that—” pulling his ID out with a flourish “-I’ll be turning 21 at midnight, so I can buy my own.”
She pulled back, then smiled back. “You really are an idiot! If you think a cutie like you has to buy their own drinks on their birthday, you’ve got another thing coming.”
He floundered for words at that, and she grabbed his ID and showed it to the bartender. “My friend here is going to be celebrating a very important date tonight. What’ve you got that’ll make him regret it in the morning?”
The bartender— Jack, if he recalled?— rolled his eyes at her.
“Lyss, you make my job a fucking hell. Since you’re family, I’m going to pretend like you didn’t show me that after all the drinks you were pouring into him last week.”
She flashed him that radiant smile, though it didn’t seem to affect him the same way as it did Mark. Of all the unfair things in life, he morosed.
Jack turned around and grabbed a few bottles, mixing their contents in a shaker expertly. He poured them out quickly over ice, turning back to hand Mark a drink as blue as the ocean. He sniffed it gingerly.
“Whoa, what the hell is this thing?” he blurted. It positively reeked!
“House special. Guaranteed to knock you flat on your ass. Happy birthday, it’s on the house. Don’t go tattling or I’ll cut your balls off.”
Pinching his nose, Mark tilted the glass back and took a swallow.
Alyssa laughed hysterically as he gulped and then spluttered, slamming the cup back down. It was solid liquor! It burned like hell!
“What -hack- the fuck -cough- is this?” he gasped.
“Jack calls it an ‘Adios, Motherfucker.'” supplied Alyssa gleefully.
“Adios, motherfucker,” Jack called from the other side of the bar.
“Adios, motherfucker!!” called back several people from around the room.
Mark turned and gestured to the room with the drink, and then flipped them all the bird. A few laughed before they turned back to their drinks and conversations.
“You could have at least warned me,” he griped at the girl.
“What, and spoil the fun? Nah. Kartal Şişman Escort Besides, you held it down pretty well. I’m impressed.”
Why the fuck did that make him blush?
“Jack, hit me with some whiskey. I gotta get my talk on, you know what I’m saying?”
“She’s saying she needs to talk,” Mark chimed in.
Jack emptied a bottle into a tall glass over ice and slid it down the bar to her with a flourish and a bird of his own. Taking it, she started toward the stairs. Mark grabbed his glass and made to follow.
“So, why didn’t you tell me it’d be your birthday?”
Mark shrugged. “Total honesty, I forgot. Some random bimbo from the bar threw me off my game so I didn’t have my head on straight.”
She playfully slapped his arm. “Wow, harsh! Don’t be fucking rude. Here I am getting you free illegal drinks and keeping you company when you’re out of books to read, and this is the thanks I get.”
“I’d kiss your ego better, but I think it’d poison me.”
“Wow! Okay!”
“Hey, it’s my birthday and I’m not getting laid tonight. Let me be a little catty.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Y’know, that doesn’t have to be the case…”
He waved his hand at her. “Gay, remember?”
“A little experimentation never hurt anybody! Though I didn’t mean it that way. I’m positive that there are other gay guys here. It’s your birthday, you really think no one would consider taking you home?”
He pondered that for a minute while she did some heavy damage to her whiskey. Inspired, he braced himself and took another chug of his hell-drink, and managed to swallow without embarrassing himself like before.
“Careful, that’s gonna knock you on your ass if you drink it too fast.”
“Look who’s talking, Miss Drinks-It-Straight.”
“I don’t wanna hear it! Whiskey’ll put hair on your chest, girly-man.”
He laughed. “Will it? Let’s see yours, then.”
She frowned slightly, called out, but then her jaw set.
“Alright then, fine.”
She set her drink down and reached for the hem of her shirt, and before Mark could react she whipped it up and over her breasts.
They were magnificent, he thought. Easily big enough to fill his broad hands. Maybe a D-cup? He had never tried understanding cup sizes before.
As she yanked her shirt back down, he became aware of two things: firstly, that he, a presumably gay man, had definitely been checking her out.
Secondly, he definitely had a boner right now.
Well, this was really weird.
“What, no comment?”
“I, uh. Well. I didn’t see any hair, so your point kinda fell apart. They looked okay though. For titties, anyway.”
She harrumphed at him, and took another swig of whiskey.
An awkward silence followed.
“I can’t believe I showed a guy my tits on his birthday and all he noticed was that they didn’t have hair,” she muttered.
He didn’t know what to say about that, so he tried to surreptiously fix his boner before she noticed.
“OH. Well, okay, I feel better now.”
Shiiiit. She noticed.
“Quietnooneaskedyou,” he mumbled in embarrassment. “This never happens, I swear.”
She leaned over, her face full of imminent teasing. “You got a bo~ner,” she singsonged. “Score one for the Lyssmaster.”
“I. It’s the alcohol talking. My instincts got drunk and forgot what I’m into.”
“Sure, sure. It’s okay to be a closet hetero, Mark. I won’t judge.”
He flushed bright red, and then had to swat her hand as it started to slide up his leg.
“Hey, none of that. You said you were gonna get me laid with a hot gay guy tonight.”
She drew back, still smiling. “Oh, did I? That’s awfully specific wording. I’m not sure I said that.”
“Wellll, it’s my birthday and that’s what I want for my present. So you should make it happen.”
Alyssa shrugged. “Alright. Go get me some more whiskey.”
He went.
Two such whiskeys later and at the end of his AMF, Mark was beginning to doubt the likeliness of this working. Alyssa was a superb wingwoman, but unfortunately his innate awkwardness just wasn’t going to let this work. He kept fumbling compliments and embarrassing himself.
As the third guy walked off rolling his eyes, he slumped against the girl.
“I’m hopeless. I don’t know how to pick people up. Let’s just call it a night.”
She put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a good pat. “There, there, you big nerd. Let’s go back to my place.”
He shook his head. “Alyssa, please.”
She bapped him softly with her empty glass. “Ah, none of that. I’ve got a gallon of ice cream that needs eating. Help me stay skinny and gimme a hand with it.”
He shrugged. “Beats striking out again. Let’s just go.”
Mark wasn’t sure how he got where he was, pinned down against an unfamiliar couch with a soft pair of lips wrapped around the head of his cock, but overall it wasn’t terrible.
The walk to the bus was kind of a blur. After tabbing out, Alyssa insisted that he take her elbow as he was ‘fucking shitfaced, dude, you’re gonna trip and fall if you don’t hang on to me.’ This time he took her up on it, though it turned out to be more of a detriment as he kept laughing about the absurdity of the situation and almost knocking her over. Eventually they made it to the stop, and after a solid ten minutes of drunken giggling and trying to regain their composure, the bus arrived.