Playing House: Less Top Gun, More Cocktail

[notjustaface]

The new job isn't bad, he's only been working a week and they've already upped his hours to almost full time - working the happy hour till after dinner shift six nights a week. Somewhat as he'd expected, the tips are good... really good, and getting better as he starts to draw a regular crowd of people that are drawn to the kind of guy that does what he does.

Which is essentially being shameless.

As it is, it's almost six-thirty and he's already stripped down to his jeans and a bar towel slung over his shoulder - sweat (and just a little bit of the tequila a VIP asked to take a shot of off his abs) shining up his torso. It's kind of his element... like it or not. And admittedly, he kind of likes it... even with his rings on he's the center of attention.

"You missed your calling as a stripper." The owner smirks, handing off a pair of empty glasses to pass back to the dishwasher. "There's more money in it."

"I like this!" He protests, pouring out a double and a vodka martini. "Besides, I'm married." He holds up his finger as though she hadn't clearly seen the evidence when he applied.

"Honey, you think they care?" She raises an eyebrow toward a group of women approaching the bar - clearly ready to party.

"On it, boss."

Comments

[notthatcrazy]

The hours are good for the bank account - and in all fairness it'll be nice to return to the team with a little extra cash in their pockets as a peace offering - but does mean he's missing his man just a little.

He sidles up to the bar, watching the group of young women as Face works his magic.

[notjustaface]

And magic is made - a trio of young women who've obviously already had a couple drinks coo over him as he flashes bright blue eyes and abs that could probably use a few more days at the gym but are no less shirtless and on display. "Drinks, ladies?"

The ringleader, a bubbly blonde who can't be a day over of twenty-five, licks her lips and asks; "How about a blowjob?"

Taking in a hiss of breath that's probably an obvious tip-off that he's on the edge of getting himself in trouble, he snatches the bottles of kahlua and Bailey's and lines up three double shots before grabbing for the whipped cream and cherries in the cooler under the bar.

"Better make it four... you look like you could use one..." the blonde licks her lips.

Grinning even wider, Face sets up a fourth and ask as he pours; "Well, I'm sort of an expert at these..." He laughs animatedly, dropping a cherry in each glass before adding a small spurt of whipped cream. His voice drops down to a low purr and he adds; "But I'm sure you lovely ladies are all first timers..."

Showing off, he sets down the whipped cream and tucks both hands behind his back, bending low to take the double between his lips - and then knocks it back, opening his mouth just enough to show the cherry between his teeth after setting it back on the bar. Taking it even further, he holds up a hand for them to wait to do theirs and then makes a show of eating the cherry before spitting the stem - tied - into his empty glass.

It's a great party trick.

[notthatcrazy]

... Yeah, that was a talent he wasn't aware of. This could get out of hand fairly quickly,

"Hey barkeep," he calls over, not showing any sign that they know each other. "What's on tap tonight?"

[notjustaface]

Pulled away from the bevy of women with a ten tucked into his pocket after filling the till, Face flashes his partner a wide - somewhat sheepish - grin.

"For you, baby?" He murmurs, leaning on the bar to get as close as he can; "Anything you want."

[notthatcrazy]

"Mmmhmm... you look like you're having fun."

He's trying not to sound like a scorned lover, because he's not. He just... missed him at home.

[notjustaface]

"Well... you know..." he quirks an eyebrow, offering an almost humble shrug. "As far as jobs go I can imagine a whole lot worse."

Like crawling through an Iraqi sewer. Or nearly getting killed on a daily basis.

"Miss you, though."

[notthatcrazy]

"Miss you too, babe."

He leans in close to be heard over the general racket of the busy bar.

"That's why I came down to visit."

[notjustaface]

"Well, you're always welcome."

He looks up, scanning to make sure nobody's waiting for a drink, before standing up fully.

"I'm gonna make you a drink," he grins, taking a highball glass from behind the bar.

[notthatcrazy]

"Oh this oughta be good."

He grins, watching him pour.

"Make it worth my while, there's a tip in it for ya."

[notjustaface]

"Hoping for a little more than the tip..." He drops a wink, licking his lips before taking out a bottle of vanilla vodka, the forgotten jar of cherries and an old bottle of grain alcohol.

"Something sweet..." He fills it halfway, then adds a generous dollop of the grain alcohol; "and something hard."

Chuckling, he drops three cherries into the glass; "And something special..." With a flash, he snatches a pack of matches off the bowl on the bar and lights it off the top.

"I call it - You Set Me On Fire."

[notthatcrazy]

"We'll discuss that later," he says, returning the wink.

"Now that's impressive, right there."

He watches the flames before extinguishing them with a flourish. He glances at the handful of others behind the bar.

"You've got a talented employee on your hands here. And I'm not just sayin' that 'cause I'm biased."

[notjustaface]

The owner is the only one who catches it, and she flashes a hint of a smile before Face signals her to take a break.

"Want to take it somewhere quiet?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Sure, if you've got the time."

He picks up the glass and takes a curious sip. It's sweet, almost sickeningly so, but with a bit of kick. His man knows him well.

"You gotta show me that cherry thing later."

[notjustaface]

Laughing under his breath, Face slides around the other end of the bar, shuffling his partner off toward the backroom where the kegs hang out.

"Well, it's an old showstopper from back in my heavier flirting days."

[notthatcrazy]

"How come I never knew about this? You been holdin' out on me, Templeton Peck?"

[notjustaface]

"Well..."

He's already a little worked up, courtesy of far too many pretty girls and a couple drinks in his system so it's mostly second nature to wrap his arm around Murdock's waist and draw him in close.

"I tend to save it for when I'm trying to impress someone who hasn't seen my better tricks."

[notthatcrazy]

And it seems natural to lean into the embrace.

"You save all your best moves for me, then?"

[notjustaface]

"I don't need moves for you..." he murmurs, brushing a kiss in his hair.

"You already think I'm amazing."

[notthatcrazy]

"I already know you're amazing," he corrects.

"How much longer you got on your shift?"

[notjustaface]

Even in his state, the praise is enough to draw a warm flush across his cheeks as he leans in to kiss him properly.

"Two hours..." he murmurs, breaking away. "Want to stay and work up an appetite for that big tip?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Sounds good to me. Not like I've got anything better to do."

He's mostly spent the last week drawing and babying the spider plant he brought home in place of a pet, to Face's eternal amusement.

[notjustaface]

His bare chest brushes against Murdock's shirt and tingles of arousal spread.

"You, uh... You don't mind me showing off, right?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Nah, not really."

He hooks a finger through one of his belt loops and pulls him closer.

"Long as you go home with me at the end of the night, I'll be fine."

[notjustaface]

"You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to it..." He murmurs, squeezing him tight. "Mine."

[notthatcrazy]

"You know it, babe."

He leans in and kisses him again, warm and tender.

"Always."