I wrote this in the GhostSoap discord a while ago but this was inspired by my cousin's birthday. I liked it so much I decided to post it here! Enjoy!
"It's my birthday!" Soap shouts, holding up his glass.
"It's your birthday!" All his friends shout, clinking their glasses with his.
Soap takes his birthday shot, popping the lime in his mouth as he squints through the pain.
"I want a tequila sunrise!" Soap shouts over the music.
"Want me to go with you?" His mate Gaz asks, placing a hand on the drunk man's back to steady him.
Soap shakes his head. "I'm an adult! I don't need you to come with me!"
Gaz laughs and claps Soap on the shoulder. "Text me if you need me!"
Soap nods and grabs his phone, wandering over to the bar in the back of the club.
It is quieter over here, but it's definitely darker too. He waddles up to the bar and leans his whole weight on his forearms. The two bartenders are working diligently, but Soap can't hell but drunkenly stare at one. He's blonde, his hair gelled back from his face but it doesn't look greasy. He's wearing s black mask that matches his black button up that all the bartenders are wearing. He's got the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, showing off an impressive sleeve on one of the arms.
He expertly pours a bunch of drinks for a group of obviously drunk women, thanking them when they tip him generously.
"What can I get for you?" He asks, his voice rumbling even through the mask. Also a transplant to London it seems.
Soap has to actually shake himself out of his staring as he falls more and more for this bartender. "It's my birthday!" he shouts, even though the music is lower in this corner. He's drunk enough to lose control of his volume.
"Happy birthday," the bartender responds. Soap can't tell what tone he was given but he swears he sees amusement in the bartenders eyes.
Soap leans forward more, slightly over the bar, and swaying lightly. "How old do you think I am?"
"24," the bartender says, entertaining this drunken trail of thought.
Soap grins widely. "I'm 29!"
"Really? You don't look a day over 24," the bartender says with a chuckle, causing Soap to grin even more. "I don't ask people what age I look like anymore because they usually get it right."
Soap thinks for a moment before pointing at the blonde man and saying, "26."
The bartender just looks at Soap for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Not even close, but I'm flattered you think so. Now what can I get you?"
"Tequila sunrise," Soap says, now with a flirty grin on his face.
Soap watches the man pour his drink, and slowly push it toward him. When he goes to reach for his wallet, and bartender says, "On the house. A birthday drink for the birthday boy."
Soap grins wider as he grabs the glass, thanking the bartender, and handing him a 20. In return, the bartender places a napkin in Soap's hand.
He pulls it out of his pocket as he walks back to his table.
"Call me when you're sober if you remember any of this…" is written on it in scratchy handwriting. "Happy birthday"
Soap wakes up bleary eyed and stomach rolling as light streams in through his broken blinds. He groans, a headache pulsing at his temples. He brings his blanket over his head to block out the light.
After a misersble lie in, he gets out of bed, bored and looking for his phone. He finds it, and along side it, a napkin that's seen better days.
But, still intact is a number, and a note. He gets flashes of blonde hair and a masked bartender and the light flirting they had.
Soap plugs in the number and let's the phone ring, smiling when it's picked up.
"You told me to call if I remembered… do you wanna get coffee or something?"