Jackpot
Bobby steps into the bar, eyes widening. His cheeks and ears went red. The man had taken Bobby to a gay bar. Sure, he was gay, but he'd never even been to a gay bar. He wasn't opposed, but he would never go alone. The sight of the male dancers alone made him blush further. He turned to the man, eyes still wide.
"So uh.. Fun fact, never actually..." He says sheepishly.
The man simply chuckles and leads him to a booth off to the side. He removes his suit jacket, folding it nicely, before sliding into the booth. Bobby slides into his seat, his face still red. His mind is running, and he can feel his fingers turning cold. The man waves down a waiter, a handsome one at that, and the man knew him by name.
"I'll have an old fashion an' for the handsome gentleman here..." He trails off, looking to Bobby in an attempt to get a good read, "A blue lagoon. Oh, an 2 waters please"
The man smiles seductively at the waiter, his face tinging red as he jots down their orders. He nods to the man and walks to the bar. Bobby's mind was going 100 miles an hour. "How did he know I like vodka? Hell, he didn't even give me a chance to tell him what I liked!" Bobby thought to himself.
"Two things. one, you're one ballsy motherfucker for choosin' my drink for me," Bobby starts, before starting again, "two, how the hell did you know I like vodka?" Bobby tilted his head to the side like a dog.
"One, I know I am, don't worry," He starts, resting his ankle on the opposite knee, "two, I ain't sharin' my secrets."
Bobby blushes. He finally has a good look at him, and this was dangerous. He was hot. He felt his fingers become colder. He could tell the man was comfortable, which put Bobby at ease. The waiter returned and the man took the drinks, placing the drinks in front of their respective people. He watches as the man slips a $20 into the waiter's pocket, who didn't even notice. The man took a sip of his drink and then slipped off his sunglasses, which revealed his haunting, yet beautiful, eyes. He took a sip of his drink, and as he holds it in his hand, the glass became coated in a light frost. He hadn't noticed, more focused on the man and his eyes that captivated him. He knew his face was probably red, but he didn't even care.
"Your eyes... they're gorgeous.." He says, admiring the man before him.
"Surprise." The man responds, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag, "Ya' mind chillin' mine? They didn' give me ice."
Of course, the man knew the glass was frosted now. He knew it wasn't before, he was the one who grabbed their glasses. He blushed furiously, taking his drink. He blows lightly over the drink, the glass and drink becoming chilled. He hands it back to the man, who was content now that his drink was chill.
"Wasn't sure you could see that," He says, resting his elbows on the table, and burying his face in his hands, "As much as I enjoy the "Handsome Stranger" trope... I'd like to know your name, ya' know." His southern accent had thickened as he'd continued to drink.
The man simply grins and downs his drink. "People at da' casino call me Le Diable Blanc," He replies, accent thick and drawn out, making it sound almost sultry. "Comment tu t'appelles?" He asked in French.
"I didn't ask what people call ya, I asked for your name," He responds, southern accent thick as continues, "My name's Bobby."
Bobby furrowed his brows slightly when the man had answered that way, and he proceeded to down the rest of his drink. The bar had become increasingly warmer with all the bodies in the bar and people dancing. It made him feel like he was overheating and couldn't breathe, so he tugged at his bowtie, trying to relieve the feeling. The man had ordered another old fashioned, and drank half when he got it.
"Remy Etienne LeBeau." He responds. "Where're ya from, homme? Ya got a twang like some uh my cousins."
"Remy..." He draws out slightly, feeling the word roll on his tongue, "Suits ya. 'M from the south, me 'n my folks all got the accent. Usually I can keep it moderate."
Bobby's accent was thicker than it had been. He finally ends up pulling off his bowtie, desperate for some room to breathe. He takes a hit from his pen, Remy takes a drag from his cigarette. Remy had also undone his bowtie, but took it a step forward by unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt. The ventilation in the bar wasn't the best, but it didn't matter all that much. Bobby admired Remy as he had undone the top three buttons and he could just barely see the top of his chest. He face went red.
"Well, Bobby, ya don' gotta hide nothin' from me. In fact, you'll find I fancy southern men," He teases and winks, sipping his drink.
"Is that so?" Bobby responded, swallowing hard.
He was a mess, his ears and cheeks were red. He'd barely known the man and yet he found himself attracted to him. He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or his own feelings getting to him, but Remy genuinely seemed interested in him, which only flustered him further. Bobby flagged down the waiter for another drink, which he had gotten quickly.
"Ya can't hide that blush from me, cher, even in the lights." Remy said, chuckling and finishing is drinks. "Tu es très et tu as un visage magnifique."
"I got no clue whatcha jus' said to me, but I'ma take it you're flirtin' with me." Bobby responding, averting his eyes from Remy's gaze.
Remy's accent was not one from France, which made his accent a little confusing to understand. Bobby finishes his drink quickly, distracted by his thoughts. There was a hot man sitting in a booth with him. There was a hot man flirting with him. He shouldn't be this easy, but he found it hard to with the man in front of him. There was something about Remy that pulled him in.
Remy move closer to Bobby and looked at him longingly. Bobby returned his gaze to Remy, which he could now see every detail of the his face, which only further flustered him. He felt his chest tighten with need and longing. "I said..." Remy began, moving his face closer to his ear, voice sultry, "You're handsome and that you've got a magnificent face."
Bobby swallowed hard, "Well... I think you're pretty fine there yourself."
Remy had a blush paint his cheeks as he moves back from his face, but still sitting close. "I'm nothin' compared to you." He responded, and then waves down their waiter to order another drink, a whiskey sour this time.
Bobby's face was red and he couldn't think straight. He had wanted to blame the alcohol, but this was never a reaction that he had had before. He didn't understand how he already felt this way. He couldn't even find words to respond, so he just grinned and shook his head in a flustered way. Remy made another move, placing his hand on Bobby's thigh, and then looked at Bobby with a confident grin, knowing exactly what he was doing. Bobby felt all the heat rush to his cunt, and his ears were still red. Remy continued the conversation, slowing inching his hand to his inner thigh. Bobby stared at him longingly, a need in his eyes.
"So, tell me 'bout yourself." Remy said, giving Bobby's thigh a squeeze and rubbing it with his thumb absentmindedly, his free hand holding a cigarette.
Bobby's breath shakes. "Well... I work at the casino, as ya know cause that's where ya met me. I... Uhm... I'm terrible at this, my god," He replies, chuckling nervously and shifting in his seat, "God. Okay. Obviously, I'm a mutant, surprise, ice is my thing, but'cha knew that already. I'm gay as hell, if that wasn't alarmingly obvious. I don' really do much outsidda work, so not much interestin' 'bout me I s'pose."
He rambles, clearly anxious and very turned on. He couldn't focus, ad he certainly couldn't look Remy in the eyes. He turned away. He took a hit from his pen, blowing the smoke down. He felt himself have butterflies as he finally turned back to look at Remy. He knew he had to have had a pathetic look on his face when Remy grinned at him seductively, which only made him look at Remy more longingly.
Remy put his cigarette out on his ashtray. "Looks like you an' I got a few things in common..." He draws out as his hand slides closer to Bobby's crotch as he finishes what he is saying with a sultry tone, "Cher."
Bobby felt himself swallow hard, and his face and ears were certainly red. His breath hitched when he called Bobby "cher" as he had moved his hand closer to his crotch. Bobby was damn near ready to beg for him. However, he couldn't find the words, only unsteady breaths and a racing heart. He glanced down, trying to avert his eyes due to how embarrassed he was, only to see that Remy was hard. There was no mistaking that, he could see it in his pants, and yet Remy didn't even acknowledge it. He swallowed again, returning his eyes to Remy's.
"Well, I frequent the casino ya work at, I jus' hardly play blackjack." He responded, ignoring his hard on.
"Is... Is that so?" He asks, his voice now sheepish. He shifted in his seat, readjusting because he was filled with need and longing.
"You tryin' to go somewhere, petite." He asks in a sultry, yet somewhat condescending, tone.
"No! No, not at all!" He stammers out a little too quickly, his face now even more red due to sheer embarrassment.
"Good. You ain' goin' nowhere without me. Now, speakin' of, follow me." He responds, standing up and out of the booth, holding his hand out to Bobby.
Bobby could only nod, taking Remy's hand. The possessiveness had turned him on far more than he would have liked to admit. It made him feel weak. Remy had led them into the bathroom and into a stall that managed to fit the both of them.
"Knees, cher." He responded, unzipping his pants.
"We could also always head back to my place if you wanted..." He started, face red, before back tracking, "I mean this works too, not sayin' this doesn't!"
Bobby realized he was a rambling mess and dropped to his knees. He knew he needed to get it together and stop rambling. Once on his knees, he looks back up to Remy with longing, pleading eyes.
Remy shook his head, grinning. "This your first time inna bar like this, gotta make it count don' I?"
Remy pulled his dick out of his pants, them falling to his ankle. He was hard, and Bobby could only blush. "You know what to do or am I gonna have to tell ya?" Remy asked.
"I know what to do..." Bobby responded, nodding and blushing.
He doesn't say anything, just doing what he knew to do. He took his cock in his hand. He began kissing from the base, up the shaft, pressing deep, needy, kisses as he strokes him slowly. He felt Remy twitch in his hand, which made him blush. He started licking stripes along his cock, before taking Remy's dick into his mouth. He held his hands behind his back, and slowly began bobbing his head.
Above Bobby, Remy had his head facing up, letting out breathy moans. "Cher, it seems... Like ya done this before." Remy manages in between breathy moans.
Bobby hummed in content, and continue what he was doing. He felt in his place making Remy feel good, the praise only making more needy. He sped up, hands away and behind his back. Remy desperately grabs the sides of Bobby's head, gripping his hair to keep him stead and begins thrusting into Bobby's mouth. Bobby wasn't entirely expecting hit, but a part of him hoped for this, which is one of the reasons he placed his hands behind him. That and it kept his hands out of the way. He gagged slightly at first, but quickly felt himself ease up letting Remy have control, which Bobby loved. He felt Remy getting sloppier and rougher, before Remy stopped, letting out a low moan. His cock twitched in Bobby's throat, cum filling his throat, which he desperately tries to swallow. Remy held him there for a second, making sure Bobby gets all of it.
After a couple moments, he pulls out of Bobby's mouth and pulls back up his pants. Bobby was panting softly, looking up at him with pitiful eyes. He was both drunk and cock-drunk. He stood up slowly, and then moved close to Remy, pressing a kiss to his lips. Remy reciprocated, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Remy tasted of cigarettes and bourbon. Bobby deepened the kiss, practically making out. He pulls back, shallow breaths spilling from his lips as he attempts to catch his breath. He looks up into Remy's eyes with need. He needed out of the bathroom and he needed Remy. Bad.
Bobby finally found his breath and his words. "Can we please get outta here?" His voice was both sheepish and filled with need.
"Yeah, but neither of us are drivin', y'understand?" He asks, unlocking the stall.
Bobby simply nods, following Remy out of the stall. They go back to their booth, gathering their belongings. He watches as Remy grabs his stuff, and he grabs his own. He lead them outside, holding the door for him.
"Merci," Remy says, taking a drag from his cigarette, "My place or yours?"
"We can go back to mine, if you'd like." He responds, taking a hit off of his pen.
He definitely does not need to be more inebriated, but he wasn't really thinking about that. He took Remy's hand and starts to walk them in the direction of his apartment.
"Better not be too far a walk, cher. I don't know how far I'll make it." He teases with his stupid grin.
Bobby only blushes. "'S not far at all." He replies and continues to walk.
"Well then, lead the way, petite."