....walk into a bar....
"A Bar. Not a seedy bar, but not a nightclub either. One of those reasonably nice establishments where you go for the food as much as the drink."
Prompt provided by Sam. Three unrelated stories.
It wasn't such a bad place, really. The neighborhood was a little seedy, but the joint itself was fairly classy - a bar, yes, but not a seedy one. One of those reasonably nice establishments where you go as much for the food as the drink.
Cale took a sip of his drink and made a face. Maybe you came more for the food, actually. Or the atmosphere. Or maybe he'd just ordered the wrong thing. He downed the rest in one gulp, and peered over the drinks menu, hoping the next item that popped out at him would appeal a bit more to his pallet. He couldn't figure much out from the text itself. Such was the trouble with being in a foreign country. The writing just looked like scribbles, albeit pretty ones, and even the quick translator spell he'd cast didn't make things any clearer. What the hell was an "Innocent Umbigo"?
He looked up at the room, hoping someone was available to take his order - that is to say, to watch him point wildly at the menu and try to make himself understood. Unfortunately, none of the workers seemed willing to make eye contact.
Cale sighed, sinking into his elbows and staring into his empty glass.
"This sucks."
"The service? Or perhaps being alone in a foreign country?"
Cale jolted a little. He hadn't noticed the man who had slipped into the seat across from him until he spoke.
"Or maybe it's being on the run for so long that's getting to you? Is that it, Cale Pendragon?"
The man's face split into a sharp-toothed grin. All Cale could see with his companion's hood up were the needle-like teeth and a yellow eye. Not human, then.
"You're looking for someone."
Cale raised an eyebrow. "Am I? And here I thought I was just wandering aimlessly."
"Someone's looking for you, then."
Cale snorted. "Oh, plenty of people are doing that. The entire western military, for starters."
"But you should seek this someone, as well."
"And why is that?"
"Riches, beautiful women, good food, good wine - "
"Not interested."
"And a place to hide."
Cale wished his glass still had something left in it for him to sip nonchalantly. "I've been doing fine on my own, thanks."
His companion glared at him. "If you don't find them yourself, they'll find you."
"Oh, it's a bunch of someones now?"
"They want that pendant, Pendragon, and they won't wait for you forever. Even if you manage to avoid them, can you say the same for your lover? Your friends? Or perhaps your young prodigy...?"
Cale's hand clenched around his glass. As if he needed another reminder, when the chain was still stained with Alec's blood, when he could still hear that earsplitting scream ringing in his ears. He'd run away to protect the boy, and he wouldn't stand by and let some -
"I'm not going to stand by and let some reject molt threaten me," the wizard voiced. The man's spine stiffened, and Cale leaned in closer. "Look here, naga, I won't be intimidated by trash like you. You think turning me in to Jagannath will get you back in with the kingdom? It won't. Whatever you did, they'll eat you alive no matter what you do for them. So either you get the hell out, or you tell me just what your king wants with me, and how I can find him..."
~~
The man sat at the bar, glaring into his shot glass morosely, and wishing he was anywhere but there. The barstool was uncomfortable, the drinks were expensive, and there was at least a 75% chance of him making a gigantic fool out of himself.
It wasn't a bad place. It wasn't seedy, and it was the kind of place you go to as much for the food as the drink. But he hated the town, and he hated his life, and no amount of overpriced chicken legs would make him feel better about it.
"Are you ready?" a voice murmured in his ear.
"No."
The grin his companion flashed him was a strange mix of danger and cheek, and he was annoyed at the lack of nervousness showing. "You should get ready. This'll be great."
"It's going to be awful," he said, and downed his shot. He raised his arm to wave at the bartender for another, but found his hand pushed back onto the bar.
"You've had enough. You need a clear head."
"My head is fine," he said, but didn't push the matter, sulking over a small bowl of salted pretzels instead.
"I'm sure it is," the darker man said dismissively, lifting the captive arm to his face and pressing his cheek to the back of the hand.
The man rolled his eyes and looked away, popping some pretzels in his mouth with his free hand. He hoped the dark atmosphere of the bar would hide his blush. How the hell was it that everything out of that man's mouth sounded so fucking sleazy all the time?
He snatched his hand away when he felt his companion's tongue on it.
"Knock it off," he said.
"Hmm," the man hummed, sliding off his barstool. He gathered the sides of his cloak as if he were cold, making the hump on his back appear even larger and more deformed than before. "I'll be right back. Then we should go."
"Whatever."
The man waited until the hunchback was out of sight before waving for the bartender to pour him a new drink.
He leaned back to down it, when somebody slid into the now vacant seat at his side. "Hey," the new man said.
He swallowed. "Can I help you?" he asked coolly, trying not to show any sign of how quickly his heart had started beating.
"Aren't you that wizard?"
"Am I?"
"That wizard. That Wind-fire guy."
"Windshadow."
"Yeah. Innt that you?"
He eyed his shot glass, wishing it would fill up again. "Yeah," he said. "That's me. What's it to you?"
"You're fighting the Council."
"Yeah. Your point?"
The strange man gestured silently for a moment. "You crazy, man?" he asked. "You're gonna get your ass handed to you."
"My ass is my business."
"Well that's what I mean!" The man was talking a little too loudly. People were starting to look over at them. "You aren't just fighting when they go after you! You're going after their camps and attacking their bases! You're fucking crazy, man! Why aren't you running like the rest of us?"
"Sometimes you get sick of running," Windshadow said, trying to keep calm and remember what he was supposed to say. "We're at the point where if they're just going to kill you anyway, you might as well die fighting."
The man shook his head with a dark chuckle. "You're crazy, man. You're gonna get yourself killed."
Windshadow smirked at the man, tilting his head back to show his face, showing just a bit of teeth and making the blue jewel on his earring flash, just as rehearsed. "Don't you worry about me," he said. "I'm way more than they know how to deal with."
Someone behind him laughed. A small crowd had formed around them without the wizard's noticing.
"You're just a kid," somebody called out. "Go home and hide like the rest of us."
"This freedom fighter thing's just gonna kill you."
"The Council's made of the best wizards in the world; no wannabe like you is ever gonna beat 'em!"
Windshadow kept his head up and closed his eyes. "They're not going to beat me, either."
"One wizard against the entire Council and its army isn't going to get anywhere," the first man said. "I admire your drive, mister Windshade, but it's impossible. You're only one man."
"It's Windshadow," the wizard corrected, and the crowd laughed at the Council-like moniker. "And I'm only one man for as long as the rest of the world refuses to fight. Eventually, more people are going to stand up, and I'm going to be there to support them."
The man next to him looked up with something in his eyes - admiration, Windshadow hoped? Did making these corny speeches actually accomplish something?
His hopes were shattered along with the shot glass that hit him in the side of the head.
"Get outta here!" Someone shouted from within the throng; possibly the thrower. "People fight back, and the Council tightens the rules and more innocent people die! You're gonna get all of us killed!"
More shouts joined in, and more small but painful objects rained down on the wizard's head. The crowd was very against him.
"You can't do anything!"
"You're just a troublemaker!"
"What makes you think you're better than the Council?!"
"What makes you think you're better than us?!"
His arms were over his head, and he was sure he'd be bruised all over the next morning, but Windshadow smirked to himself. That question, he had an answer to.
A deep breath and closed eyes were the only warnings his attackers received. The wizard never bothered with incarnations or movements when he was working with the two elements that made up his alias.
Yelps and shouts rang out around him as projectiles were returned to their owners by the air itself and tendrils of darkness grabbed the closest offenders by the ankles and thrust them across the room. Windshadow knocked a few others back with another gust of wind, and leaped up onto the bar.
"My name is Windshadow, and I am better than the Council! Anything they can do, so can I!" He spun on his toes, grinning as he created a small cyclone in his arms, the wind deflecting any projectile glasses that might still be coming towards him. "And I am better than you, because I'm not going to sit around in a bar and hide, while my fellow wizards are being slaughtered! I will fight for every magic user's right to use magic, for their right to exist on their own terms! I may be just one wizard, but I will bring the Council to their knees, or die trying!"
There were more shouts from the room, and this time, not just drinkware was thrown. Somebody cast a spell, a big one, a jet of fiery light headed straight for Windshadow's chest.
His companion caught it in one hand, and it dissipated in his fist.
"Is there a problem, Master Windshadow?" the man with the hump asked calmly, his voice deep and growling, just as it had been when the two first met.
"These men don't seem to believe that one wizard will make any difference fighting the Council," he replied. "Apparently, I'm not as strong as any Council members."
The hunchback laughed, a low, hollow laugh that shook the floor itself and forced the crowded bar into silence.
"Just one man, huh? They really don't believe in you, do they, Master Windshadow?"
He thrust his head back, letting his hood fall to reveal his dark face. A tangled black mane framed his eyes, which glowed an unnatural purple-blue, and he grinned at the crowd with his fangs bared.
"Let me take care of these fools for you, Windshadow. It won't take long."
Windshadow looked out at the crowd of confused, frightened, and angry faces. Some of them looked like they could come to their side, others looked ready to run; some still looked like they wanted him dead.
He dropped his head and shrugged. "Forget it, Hadron," he said, ignoring the gasp that rippled through the crowd at the name of the infamous daemon. "We've got a base to destroy."
Hadron's cloak flew up and behind him as the daemon's wings spread with a snap. "Yes, Master Windshadow," he growled, still grinning as his body shifted and melted into a new shape.
Windshadow left in quite the opposite manner he'd entered, thrusting some money down onto the bar as he leaped onto the back of his companion-turned-flying-horse, clutching at the fiery mane with one hand and gesturing with the other.
"I'd get out of here if I were you," he shouted down to those who followed him out. "The Council will be here to investigate any second!" He caught the eye of the man who had approached him, and nodded to him. If and when he called for others to join him, he knew the man would be there.
High in the sky, Windshadow leaned back against the daemon's back.
"Quite a show you did down there," the daemon said.
"You might have joined in earlier," the wizard sulked, picking idly at some of the fire-like feathers on his companion's wing. "They could've killed me."
"You did fine." Hadron laughed, though it sounded rather like a neigh in his current shape.
"Well good, I'm glad to know that getting an entire building full of people to try and kill me is 'fine'." He sighed and looked up at the stars. "Can we go home now?"
"Are you kidding? You just promised a roomful of drunks you'd go save the world. I think we'd better go hit up the base like we were planning."
"And by 'we,' I suppose you mean 'me.'"
"Don't be ridiculous," Hadron said, and the smile was audible in his voice. "You're just one man. You're not going alone."
Windshadow smiled and leaned in to wrap an arm around the horse's chest. "Fine," he said. "Let's go."
~~
"May I see your ID, please?"
"Of course," Jake said. He handed the woman his driver's license. She looked it over quickly, and nodded as she handed it back.
"Your drinks will be ready in just a moment."
"Thank you."
Jake looked back across the little table, and Ferrin was making that face again.
"What?"
Ferrin smiled even wider. "It's your first drink! It's exciting!"
Jake rolled his eyes and took a handful of peanuts, turning his attention to the rest of the bar. "I've had drinks before, Ferr."
"Not legally! Not where they asked for your ID and you gave it to them!"
Jake glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "You don't know that. Maybe I used to use fake IDs."
Ferrin smirked. "You wouldn't do that," he said, helping himself to peanuts as well. "Not that I have a problem with it, I mean, all my IDs are fake."
Jake frowned. "How old are you, actually?"
Ferrin got a glazed look in his eyes, which Jake was starting to realize happened when he was trying very hard to think of the answer.
"I think.... I think I might actually be around 21. Maybe?"
They dropped the conversation as the waitress came back with their drinks. Now that he was thinking about it, Jake realized he'd never seen anybody check Ferrin's ID before, in spite of the fact that Ferrin, however old he technically was, still looked like he was 17.
"Do you even have an ID?" he asked once they were alone again.
"Huh? Of course I do."
"Lemme see it for a sec."
"What? Why?"
"I just want to see it!"
"You just want to make fun of the photo."
"No, I want to see what your last name is."
Ferrin grinned at that. "No way."
"Come on, let me see it!"
"Nope! You'll never know!"
"It can be my birthday present."
"I already got you something," Ferrin said. He picked up the little menu on the side of the table. "You wanna order something to eat?"
Jake gave up and glanced around the bar again. "Not really," he said. It wasn't that the food was bad; the bar was the kind of place where people could come to get lunch just as much as to get drunk. It was really nice, and the food was good, but he was feeling more and more like they should just get out. "We can go home and eat cake instead."
Ferrin smiled dreamily. "I like cake."
"Cake is good."
"Maybe we can do something else, too."
"Maybe."
"I can give you your present."
The way Ferrin said that made Jake a little nervous, but one look at his face told him it was supposed to, and there wasn't really anything to worry about.
"Let's finish our drinks and get out of here."
"Sounds good." Ferrin finished his in one chug. Jake followed suit, and did his best to ignore the burning in the back of his throat to match Ferrin's smirk.
Ferrin paid up at the cash register while Jake waited next to the door, still glancing around the room. A couple of the people around the room stared back.
"Ignore them," Ferrin said, following his gaze as he walked over to the door. "They're all freaks anyway."
"Yeah," Jake said, and comfortably slung his arm around Ferrin's shoulders. He still felt the glares behind him as he gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips. "You'd think they'd never seen people go on a date before."
The couple stepped out into the snow and headed for home.
Prompt provided by Sam. Three unrelated stories.
It wasn't such a bad place, really. The neighborhood was a little seedy, but the joint itself was fairly classy - a bar, yes, but not a seedy one. One of those reasonably nice establishments where you go as much for the food as the drink.
Cale took a sip of his drink and made a face. Maybe you came more for the food, actually. Or the atmosphere. Or maybe he'd just ordered the wrong thing. He downed the rest in one gulp, and peered over the drinks menu, hoping the next item that popped out at him would appeal a bit more to his pallet. He couldn't figure much out from the text itself. Such was the trouble with being in a foreign country. The writing just looked like scribbles, albeit pretty ones, and even the quick translator spell he'd cast didn't make things any clearer. What the hell was an "Innocent Umbigo"?
He looked up at the room, hoping someone was available to take his order - that is to say, to watch him point wildly at the menu and try to make himself understood. Unfortunately, none of the workers seemed willing to make eye contact.
Cale sighed, sinking into his elbows and staring into his empty glass.
"This sucks."
"The service? Or perhaps being alone in a foreign country?"
Cale jolted a little. He hadn't noticed the man who had slipped into the seat across from him until he spoke.
"Or maybe it's being on the run for so long that's getting to you? Is that it, Cale Pendragon?"
The man's face split into a sharp-toothed grin. All Cale could see with his companion's hood up were the needle-like teeth and a yellow eye. Not human, then.
"You're looking for someone."
Cale raised an eyebrow. "Am I? And here I thought I was just wandering aimlessly."
"Someone's looking for you, then."
Cale snorted. "Oh, plenty of people are doing that. The entire western military, for starters."
"But you should seek this someone, as well."
"And why is that?"
"Riches, beautiful women, good food, good wine - "
"Not interested."
"And a place to hide."
Cale wished his glass still had something left in it for him to sip nonchalantly. "I've been doing fine on my own, thanks."
His companion glared at him. "If you don't find them yourself, they'll find you."
"Oh, it's a bunch of someones now?"
"They want that pendant, Pendragon, and they won't wait for you forever. Even if you manage to avoid them, can you say the same for your lover? Your friends? Or perhaps your young prodigy...?"
Cale's hand clenched around his glass. As if he needed another reminder, when the chain was still stained with Alec's blood, when he could still hear that earsplitting scream ringing in his ears. He'd run away to protect the boy, and he wouldn't stand by and let some -
"I'm not going to stand by and let some reject molt threaten me," the wizard voiced. The man's spine stiffened, and Cale leaned in closer. "Look here, naga, I won't be intimidated by trash like you. You think turning me in to Jagannath will get you back in with the kingdom? It won't. Whatever you did, they'll eat you alive no matter what you do for them. So either you get the hell out, or you tell me just what your king wants with me, and how I can find him..."
~~
The man sat at the bar, glaring into his shot glass morosely, and wishing he was anywhere but there. The barstool was uncomfortable, the drinks were expensive, and there was at least a 75% chance of him making a gigantic fool out of himself.
It wasn't a bad place. It wasn't seedy, and it was the kind of place you go to as much for the food as the drink. But he hated the town, and he hated his life, and no amount of overpriced chicken legs would make him feel better about it.
"Are you ready?" a voice murmured in his ear.
"No."
The grin his companion flashed him was a strange mix of danger and cheek, and he was annoyed at the lack of nervousness showing. "You should get ready. This'll be great."
"It's going to be awful," he said, and downed his shot. He raised his arm to wave at the bartender for another, but found his hand pushed back onto the bar.
"You've had enough. You need a clear head."
"My head is fine," he said, but didn't push the matter, sulking over a small bowl of salted pretzels instead.
"I'm sure it is," the darker man said dismissively, lifting the captive arm to his face and pressing his cheek to the back of the hand.
The man rolled his eyes and looked away, popping some pretzels in his mouth with his free hand. He hoped the dark atmosphere of the bar would hide his blush. How the hell was it that everything out of that man's mouth sounded so fucking sleazy all the time?
He snatched his hand away when he felt his companion's tongue on it.
"Knock it off," he said.
"Hmm," the man hummed, sliding off his barstool. He gathered the sides of his cloak as if he were cold, making the hump on his back appear even larger and more deformed than before. "I'll be right back. Then we should go."
"Whatever."
The man waited until the hunchback was out of sight before waving for the bartender to pour him a new drink.
He leaned back to down it, when somebody slid into the now vacant seat at his side. "Hey," the new man said.
He swallowed. "Can I help you?" he asked coolly, trying not to show any sign of how quickly his heart had started beating.
"Aren't you that wizard?"
"Am I?"
"That wizard. That Wind-fire guy."
"Windshadow."
"Yeah. Innt that you?"
He eyed his shot glass, wishing it would fill up again. "Yeah," he said. "That's me. What's it to you?"
"You're fighting the Council."
"Yeah. Your point?"
The strange man gestured silently for a moment. "You crazy, man?" he asked. "You're gonna get your ass handed to you."
"My ass is my business."
"Well that's what I mean!" The man was talking a little too loudly. People were starting to look over at them. "You aren't just fighting when they go after you! You're going after their camps and attacking their bases! You're fucking crazy, man! Why aren't you running like the rest of us?"
"Sometimes you get sick of running," Windshadow said, trying to keep calm and remember what he was supposed to say. "We're at the point where if they're just going to kill you anyway, you might as well die fighting."
The man shook his head with a dark chuckle. "You're crazy, man. You're gonna get yourself killed."
Windshadow smirked at the man, tilting his head back to show his face, showing just a bit of teeth and making the blue jewel on his earring flash, just as rehearsed. "Don't you worry about me," he said. "I'm way more than they know how to deal with."
Someone behind him laughed. A small crowd had formed around them without the wizard's noticing.
"You're just a kid," somebody called out. "Go home and hide like the rest of us."
"This freedom fighter thing's just gonna kill you."
"The Council's made of the best wizards in the world; no wannabe like you is ever gonna beat 'em!"
Windshadow kept his head up and closed his eyes. "They're not going to beat me, either."
"One wizard against the entire Council and its army isn't going to get anywhere," the first man said. "I admire your drive, mister Windshade, but it's impossible. You're only one man."
"It's Windshadow," the wizard corrected, and the crowd laughed at the Council-like moniker. "And I'm only one man for as long as the rest of the world refuses to fight. Eventually, more people are going to stand up, and I'm going to be there to support them."
The man next to him looked up with something in his eyes - admiration, Windshadow hoped? Did making these corny speeches actually accomplish something?
His hopes were shattered along with the shot glass that hit him in the side of the head.
"Get outta here!" Someone shouted from within the throng; possibly the thrower. "People fight back, and the Council tightens the rules and more innocent people die! You're gonna get all of us killed!"
More shouts joined in, and more small but painful objects rained down on the wizard's head. The crowd was very against him.
"You can't do anything!"
"You're just a troublemaker!"
"What makes you think you're better than the Council?!"
"What makes you think you're better than us?!"
His arms were over his head, and he was sure he'd be bruised all over the next morning, but Windshadow smirked to himself. That question, he had an answer to.
A deep breath and closed eyes were the only warnings his attackers received. The wizard never bothered with incarnations or movements when he was working with the two elements that made up his alias.
Yelps and shouts rang out around him as projectiles were returned to their owners by the air itself and tendrils of darkness grabbed the closest offenders by the ankles and thrust them across the room. Windshadow knocked a few others back with another gust of wind, and leaped up onto the bar.
"My name is Windshadow, and I am better than the Council! Anything they can do, so can I!" He spun on his toes, grinning as he created a small cyclone in his arms, the wind deflecting any projectile glasses that might still be coming towards him. "And I am better than you, because I'm not going to sit around in a bar and hide, while my fellow wizards are being slaughtered! I will fight for every magic user's right to use magic, for their right to exist on their own terms! I may be just one wizard, but I will bring the Council to their knees, or die trying!"
There were more shouts from the room, and this time, not just drinkware was thrown. Somebody cast a spell, a big one, a jet of fiery light headed straight for Windshadow's chest.
His companion caught it in one hand, and it dissipated in his fist.
"Is there a problem, Master Windshadow?" the man with the hump asked calmly, his voice deep and growling, just as it had been when the two first met.
"These men don't seem to believe that one wizard will make any difference fighting the Council," he replied. "Apparently, I'm not as strong as any Council members."
The hunchback laughed, a low, hollow laugh that shook the floor itself and forced the crowded bar into silence.
"Just one man, huh? They really don't believe in you, do they, Master Windshadow?"
He thrust his head back, letting his hood fall to reveal his dark face. A tangled black mane framed his eyes, which glowed an unnatural purple-blue, and he grinned at the crowd with his fangs bared.
"Let me take care of these fools for you, Windshadow. It won't take long."
Windshadow looked out at the crowd of confused, frightened, and angry faces. Some of them looked like they could come to their side, others looked ready to run; some still looked like they wanted him dead.
He dropped his head and shrugged. "Forget it, Hadron," he said, ignoring the gasp that rippled through the crowd at the name of the infamous daemon. "We've got a base to destroy."
Hadron's cloak flew up and behind him as the daemon's wings spread with a snap. "Yes, Master Windshadow," he growled, still grinning as his body shifted and melted into a new shape.
Windshadow left in quite the opposite manner he'd entered, thrusting some money down onto the bar as he leaped onto the back of his companion-turned-flying-horse, clutching at the fiery mane with one hand and gesturing with the other.
"I'd get out of here if I were you," he shouted down to those who followed him out. "The Council will be here to investigate any second!" He caught the eye of the man who had approached him, and nodded to him. If and when he called for others to join him, he knew the man would be there.
High in the sky, Windshadow leaned back against the daemon's back.
"Quite a show you did down there," the daemon said.
"You might have joined in earlier," the wizard sulked, picking idly at some of the fire-like feathers on his companion's wing. "They could've killed me."
"You did fine." Hadron laughed, though it sounded rather like a neigh in his current shape.
"Well good, I'm glad to know that getting an entire building full of people to try and kill me is 'fine'." He sighed and looked up at the stars. "Can we go home now?"
"Are you kidding? You just promised a roomful of drunks you'd go save the world. I think we'd better go hit up the base like we were planning."
"And by 'we,' I suppose you mean 'me.'"
"Don't be ridiculous," Hadron said, and the smile was audible in his voice. "You're just one man. You're not going alone."
Windshadow smiled and leaned in to wrap an arm around the horse's chest. "Fine," he said. "Let's go."
~~
"May I see your ID, please?"
"Of course," Jake said. He handed the woman his driver's license. She looked it over quickly, and nodded as she handed it back.
"Your drinks will be ready in just a moment."
"Thank you."
Jake looked back across the little table, and Ferrin was making that face again.
"What?"
Ferrin smiled even wider. "It's your first drink! It's exciting!"
Jake rolled his eyes and took a handful of peanuts, turning his attention to the rest of the bar. "I've had drinks before, Ferr."
"Not legally! Not where they asked for your ID and you gave it to them!"
Jake glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "You don't know that. Maybe I used to use fake IDs."
Ferrin smirked. "You wouldn't do that," he said, helping himself to peanuts as well. "Not that I have a problem with it, I mean, all my IDs are fake."
Jake frowned. "How old are you, actually?"
Ferrin got a glazed look in his eyes, which Jake was starting to realize happened when he was trying very hard to think of the answer.
"I think.... I think I might actually be around 21. Maybe?"
They dropped the conversation as the waitress came back with their drinks. Now that he was thinking about it, Jake realized he'd never seen anybody check Ferrin's ID before, in spite of the fact that Ferrin, however old he technically was, still looked like he was 17.
"Do you even have an ID?" he asked once they were alone again.
"Huh? Of course I do."
"Lemme see it for a sec."
"What? Why?"
"I just want to see it!"
"You just want to make fun of the photo."
"No, I want to see what your last name is."
Ferrin grinned at that. "No way."
"Come on, let me see it!"
"Nope! You'll never know!"
"It can be my birthday present."
"I already got you something," Ferrin said. He picked up the little menu on the side of the table. "You wanna order something to eat?"
Jake gave up and glanced around the bar again. "Not really," he said. It wasn't that the food was bad; the bar was the kind of place where people could come to get lunch just as much as to get drunk. It was really nice, and the food was good, but he was feeling more and more like they should just get out. "We can go home and eat cake instead."
Ferrin smiled dreamily. "I like cake."
"Cake is good."
"Maybe we can do something else, too."
"Maybe."
"I can give you your present."
The way Ferrin said that made Jake a little nervous, but one look at his face told him it was supposed to, and there wasn't really anything to worry about.
"Let's finish our drinks and get out of here."
"Sounds good." Ferrin finished his in one chug. Jake followed suit, and did his best to ignore the burning in the back of his throat to match Ferrin's smirk.
Ferrin paid up at the cash register while Jake waited next to the door, still glancing around the room. A couple of the people around the room stared back.
"Ignore them," Ferrin said, following his gaze as he walked over to the door. "They're all freaks anyway."
"Yeah," Jake said, and comfortably slung his arm around Ferrin's shoulders. He still felt the glares behind him as he gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips. "You'd think they'd never seen people go on a date before."
The couple stepped out into the snow and headed for home.