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❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.
From my completely bananas beloved modern AU featuring bartender/student!Gale and sex worker!John, a first meeting (apparently featuring Rosie and Croz again because I can't get enough of these guys dot jpg):
Gale was refilling a beer when the door burst open and one of the most gorgeous guys he had ever seen in his life strolled in. He was tall and broad with dark, windblown curls and a smile that outshone the sun. He made a beeline for the bar, giving Gale a once-over that made him forget what he was doing until the cold rush of Budweiser spilling over his fingers reminded him. “Shit,” he muttered, forgoing the current glass for a new one. He handed it to his customer, who was fortunately too engrossed in the game to clock Gale’s minor lust-driven meltdown. “Hey, barkeep,” said the handsome newcomer. He was seated next to Croz’s guy, who said something to him that made him laugh and elbow him in the side. “What can I get you?” asked Gale, shoving a beer-damp dishrag into his back pocket. “Whiskey rocks,” he replied. It was impossible not to notice the striking blue of his eyes, or the fullness of his lips. “Please.” “I’ll do the same, please,” said Croz’s guy. “Comin’ right up.” Gale was distinctly aware of two sets of eyes on him as he poured. The newcomer was clearly friends with Croz’s guy, who was obviously into guys, which had Gale wondering if the newcomer was also into guys. The thought of him staring because he wanted him made heat creep up the back of his neck. Christ. He didn’t even know this guy’s name, and he was already mentally taking him home. He composed himself enough to set their drinks down in front of them. “Here you are.” “Thanks.” The newcomer raised his glass to Gale before cheersing with his friend. “Haven’t seen you around here before.” “I just started last weekend,” said Gale. “What’s your name?” “Gale.” “Gale.” He repeated his name slowly, like it was meant to be savored on his tongue. “I’m John.” “Good to meet you, John.” John nodded to Croz’s guy. “And this is Rosie.” “Hey, Rosie. Good to meet you.” “Likewise,” said Rosie. “Man.” John leaned back in his stool, and Gale did not stare at his thick thighs, spread wide, straining against helpless dark denim. “I’ve been coming here for, what is it, three years now? And I think I saw ‘em hire maybe one new person.” “Yeah,” supplied Rosie. “Croz.” “Right, right.” John was looking at Gale like he’d been invited to, raking his eyes over his body, taking in his black jeans, his white tee shirt, the leather cuffs on his wrists. The attention made him feel simultaneously self-conscious and emboldened, and above all else, more than a little insane. He wanted John to like what he saw. He was pretty sure that he did. “Guess old man Harding got sick of working all those extra shifts himself,” said Rosie. “He said he’s opening another spot in Williamsburg,” said Gale, moving down the bar to ring out a customer. “Hired me on so he could focus his time there.” John and Rosie pulled almost identical faces at one another and burst out laughing. “Well ain’t that fancy,” said John, taking a huge swig of his drink. His demeanor shifted as he turned towards Gale, a smolder in his eyes. “Not that I’m complaining. So far I’m a huge fan of the new help.” “John,” barked an ornery older man with long white hair pulled back in a ponytail at the opposite end of the bar. “Quit flirting with the new guy, some of us need more beer.” John leaned onto the bar and called down, “Sorry, Hank!” He gave Gale an absolutely blinding smile and shrugged, not sorry at all.
