october challenge | frerard | ✔️

nine - after dark

nine: is the lemonade sparkly?

Frank didn't want to be here. The last place he wanted to be after dark without a friend was at a goddamn bar. And it wasn't as though he'd come here alone unwillingly. He had absolutely zero ties to this bar. Yeah, sure, he'd been here a few times before, but he'd lost interest after he'd lost interest in alcohol altogether. It was a recreational thing now, only done on special occasions where you knew you could get good alcohol. But that was beside the point.

Frank hadn't come here alone. He'd come with Ray--his best friend had dragged him here--but now Ray was off making out with some tall skinny blond dude, and really, the only reason why Frank wasn't leaving was that Ray was his motherfucking ride. So he just stayed slumped at the bar closely monitoring his glass of water just to make sure he didn't get roofied.

"You gonna buy anything?" the red-cheeked old bartender asked sympathetically and stroked his white beard. "Usually when people sulk, they get wasted, but you're either going strong sober, or you know that doesn't work for you."

"My friend brought me here, and he's my ride home. But he's already drunk so I'm gonna end up being the DD for tonight, I think," Frank responded, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ray was still there. He wouldn't abandon him at a bar without a ride home, would he?

"Awe, shucks. Well, I'm sorry to say this, but you've either gotta buy a drink and keep us in business or convince your friend--wherever he is--to get going, man."

"I'll... do you have like... Can I just have a coke?"

"I only got Pepsi left for tonight," the bartender said with an apologetic smile. "But I also have Dr Pepper and lemonade."

"Is the lemonade sparkly?"

"No."

"Then lemonade it is, my man," Frank said with a tired smile and shrugged his shoulders even further up before he reached into his pocket for a five-dollar bill.

"Three fifty."

"Keep the change. You've been really nice," Frank said, and the fat old bartender gave him a wink and waddled away to another customer.

When Ray was going to be done at a gay bar was beyond Frank so he took his time sipping at his lemonade, keeping an eye on it too. Again, he wasn't about to get roofied.

"Hey, baby, you look like you're havin' a rough night," a gruff voice echoed in Frank's ear. The man--whose hair was thinning and eyes were crinkly leant in. His breath smelt of alcohol as he whispered, "You want me to make it a whole lot better, sweetheart?"

Frank pushed him off. "No, thank you."

"Oh, come on, you look so pretty sitting there," the man slurred and laid a hand on Frank's thigh. "Lemme make you feel good, huh?"

"I said no the first time. Fuck off," Frank replied, raising his voice a little and trying to shake the man's hands off of his thigh. It was around eleven-fucking-thirty, and now, Frank had decided he was never gonna let Ray drag him to gay bars for no reason ever again.

"Why're you being so pushy, baby? A pretty thing like you should be looking for some fun shouldn't you?" he insisted, and now his hand was crawling up Frank's thigh and Frank thought he'd never leant further away from a person before.

"I said get the fuck off, man, what's your deal?"

"Oh, come on, you know you want me--"

"My boyfriend said no, asshole," a voice boomed from behind Frank--one that definitely didn't sound like Ray's, and then the voice's arm was slipping around Frank's waist and pulling him close to his chest protectively. "He's already taken, so you can kindly do as he said and fuck off."