It was becoming a common occurrence now, Maverick showing up at Rafferty’s bar whenever he felt sad and lonely, or found himself to be in a spot of bother. It wasn’t deliberate, as such, but twice now in just a week he’d sought comfort at the bottom of a glass. It just so happened that his bar of choosing also happened to be where Rafferty worked.
Maverick hadn’t had any special plans in place for New Year’s Eve – he knew all the youngsters would be out celebrating, no doubt searching for a pretty pair of lips to meet their own, but that wasn’t really his scene. He loved getting to watch Wardo flourish, but he hated the idea of burdening the younger man with his presence, positive that his company at whatever party he and his friends would be attending would surely cramp his style.
He had been planning to settle down in his apartment with a mug of hot chocolate and a good book, a mug of milk slowly warming, when the gentle whir of his microwave had come to an abrupt stop. Initially, he assumed that maybe it had been on its last legs, cheap as it was, but then the lights slowly followed, filling the place in darkness. Maverick had sighed, knowing the night was already a lost cause, and fumbled for his phone and pulled up the torch app – Marley had taught him how to do that!
It wasn’t entirely uncommon for his landlord to cut off his power – the two had a somewhat tumultuous relationship. Which was to say; Maverick did as he was told, paid his bills on time (or as best he could) and never asked for anything, not even the basic maintenance that he was legally entitled to – and Jerry called him every name under the sun, the F slur being his choice favourite, and deprived him of basic lighting and central heating whenever he saw fit.
All the same, nothing could be done for the night, so Maverick figured it was the Universe’s way of telling him to quit being such a bore and go out and have some fun! He knew the temperatures in his apartment tended to run cold, so he wouldn’t have much luck sitting around and wallowing in his own self-pity if it meant freezing to death, so’d he shrugged on a jacket, slipped on some boots, and decided to make his way to the bar instead.
“My oh my, you sure do have the worst of luck, don’t ya?” Maverick teased, a warm smile on his face as he pulled up a stool across from Rafferty. “Always havin’ to put up with silly ol’ me over the holiday season!”
As much as he hated to see that the other man was working on yet another busy holiday, he selfishly was pleased to see him there. If he had to spend his evening stuck in a bar, surrounded by drunkards who didn’t know their ass from their elbow, he was happy to know that he would be in good company. Rafferty wasn’t necessarily the most cheerful guy in New York, not by any means, but Maverick didn’t think that was any of his business. Everybody had their struggles, and whether or not they wanted to share them with other people was up to them. Maverick wouldn’t push, but he’d be as much of a friend to the other man as he could be, so long as he’d have him.
“Still, better here than my apartment,” he laughed, keeping his tone light and jovial. He didn’t need to be burdening Rafferty with his own problems, not when the New Year was about welcoming new beginnings and a happier mindset. “At least y’all have central heating, huh?”
He paused, brow furrowing as he shot a cursory glance over his shoulder, taking in the ramshackle pub that he currently resided in.
“Well, I sure hope, anyway.”