“Is that what you call yourself, Lights Out? Alright, I can dig it. Sure you won’t mind I shorten it to Lights, though, bit of a mouthful otherwise, right?” There was certainly a double entendre behind these words, as could be found with much of whatever spewed forth from Thomas. Half the things that came out were obviously jokes that he was serious over. “Me, though, you can just call Thomas or Tom. Or whatever, doesn’t really matter does it? What’s in a name and all that garbage,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Winking towards the bartender. “We’ll play it by ear.” Oh he was definitely pushing his luck, but Thomas had that way about him. There was never anything to gain if one didn’t make the efforts, right? Whether or not he got more drinks, wasn’t necessarily important to him– he was happy to even get the one, despite his ploy in hunting for more. “Since it’s just the ‘one’,” here the male air-quoted this number with a darting look towards Lights, “I guess I’ll splurge–” Implying he was about to order perhaps the most expensive, alcohol-fueled drink they had available. “Scotch on the rocks, please and thank you,” he said then, delivering a mild slap to the bar counter, because why mess with the classics?
As the bartender went to prepare that order, Thomas shifted his body in towards the other male. Not in his space, but certainly offering him the focus for now. “And here I thought I was full of it,” he laughed, considering the other with a tilt of the head. “You know there’s two of us here, right? I’ve got agency in this matter too, remember? The night’s young and there’s no telling where it’ll end up– I don’t even pretend to know that future.” In spite of the other man’s assumption, he smiled. “But your confidence is sexy, so make sure not to lose that. It’s a dying quality these days.”
There was a moment where Wyatt was mildly confused. Of course, the place was called Lights Out. Didn’t this guy, Tom or Thomas, see the sign of the place he was walking into? It was as he was taking another drink just after the man introduced himself that something clicked.
He suppressed the groan, thankfully, but still couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose. This one went from righteous, indignant privilege to... talkative and cocky as hell. Oh yes, and flirting wit.
Ok, so he enjoyed it, but Tom didn’t know that.
“The bar is Lights Out, and I’m 90% sure you know that. Instead of fishing for my name, you could just ask.” Wyatt didn’t give it. He wasn’t just going to hand it out. If this was how Tom wanted to play it, he’d work for it.
So, Wyatt took another drink and took his time with it. Only then glancing over at the younger man again.
“Yeah, there are two of us. But darling, I don’t think you know exactly what dance you’re edging close to.” Setting his beer on the bartop with his hand still touching it, Wyatt leaned a bit closer so if the tender came close with the ordered drink, he’d not hear. He didn’t need to know his boss’s personal life.
“So unless you really are just dying to be taken over someone’s knee...” Unlike the stoic-like persona of before, which was purely about work and professionalism in the face of, well, Tom... Wyatt now smirked. Practically daring Tom to continue or back away.
