Let Me Buy You a Drank (Charlie)

[Bailey Foster]

Ah, the weekend. A perfect time for one Bailey Foster to get out of the house and let loose. Maddie was with her grandparents for the next two days, meaning he had all of Friday and Saturday night to have fun. There were two goals for tonight. The first was to get completely obliterated. And judging from the number of shots and drinks he'd consumed since getting to the club, he was well on his way to achieving that.

The second goal was to find someone to keep him company. Preferable the naked, sweaty, semi-acrobatic kind of company he enjoyed so much. He picked up the shot in front of him, shooting a wink at the bartender before slamming it back. His free hand ran through his hair quickly, making sure he was still presentable. His hair was still good, his button-up shirt was only half-buttoned and with the sleeves rolled up, allowing some of his tattoos and muscles to be visible. This should be easy enough.

Without looking, he reached out and grabbed the arm of the nearest person at the bar. "Wait!" he yelled, excitedly. "I've just had a vision!" His eyes were shut tight, as if trying to recall a fleeting memory. "It was you, on your bed, screaming out the name 'Bailey' in the throws of passion and ecstasy." A wide, wicked grin washed over his face as he looked over the person he'd just grabbed. "Hi, I'm Bailey. Whatdya say we make that vision come true?"

[Charles Hanson]

It’d been a long day for Charlie. Phone calls early in the morning. And then he’d spent most of his day helping a woman clean up and repair a couple of things her new shop. Nothing too big. But a lot of tedious work. And that meant, after a little nap and another phone call to Taylor, that he needed a drink. A strong, stiff one. And more than one quite frankly. He didn’t have call tomorrow anyway. And if anybody called needing a helping hand, he could put him or her off until the day after.

Tonight was about fun he might just regret though. But he’d pace himself for now, slowly sipping from his beer. He wasn’t dressed in a manner that was different if you’d just happen to see him on the street. Jeans that were obviously not new, but they were comfortable. And if he decided to dance tonight, they’d give him room to move. His gray, short-sleeved shirt was tighter than most men wore theirs. And his tattoos just peeked from under his right sleeve and collar. A normal outfit for a normal night out.

When the man next him grabbed his arm, he’d been mid-sip and it startled him, making him choke down his drink. Charlie stared at him, baffled. Though, maybe he’d really had a vision? He and his sister were both Metas? Oh. Ooooh. Then it became obvious. This was no special ability that had developed with puberty. Charlie was being hit on.

Charlie smiled, chuckling at the corny, yet uniqueness of the come on. “Really? Because I could’ve sworn my dream last night had you in the shower, moaning out ‘Charlie’. Hmmm…” Stroking his chin, Charlie looked as if he were confused by the conflicting images they described. “’m Charlie. I suppose this means we should have a few drinks and see which of us is right, yeah?”

[Bailey Foster]

There was something about that small pause after throwing out a pickup line that Bailey loved. That rush of adrenaline from not knowing if the person would respond favorably or if he'd end up with a drink thrown in his face. The mischievous grin of his grew even more playful as the guy smiled. That was a good sign. And thankfully, this guy was hot. It really would've sucked to use a primo line like that on someone who'd turned out to be unattractive. After all, the beer goggles hadn't kicked in yet.

He took a sip of his drink, laughing inside as the guy played along. His grin dimmed slightly at the mention of a shower, though. A number of thoughts rushed through his head at once. The foremost one was that his prosthetic wasn't made to handle water. That meant having to been seen, sans leg, by a person he just met. It also meant trying to balance on one leg on a potentially slippery surface while having man-sex. All of which added up to the potential to be horribly embarrassing at best and painful at worst.

"Well, Charlie..." he started, trying to force confidence back onto his face. "As much as I'm loving that visual, there's a slight problem with that." He leaned his weight onto his left arm, resting on the bartop. With his right hand, he pulled up his pant leg slightly. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to reveal the metal rod that connected his foot to his socket. This was the moment of truth. It wasn't often people reacted badly to his injury. The rest of him was usually enough to make up for it. But there was always the chance that Charlie would be put off.

He took another sip of his drink, letting his pant leg fall back into place. "I understand if it's a deal-breaker. But, if not, we can still make my vision come true." He was trying his hardest to still come across as sexy and confident, but his nerves were on edge. Still, he would power through. "I'd really like to hear you moaning with that accent." he said with a wink.