Chapter Text
"Well you screwed that one up didn't you?" Rocker groaned at the sound of the bartenders approach.
The hot bartender.
The hot bartender that clearly just overheard the monumental fuck up of whatever had just come out of his mouth that resulted in the nice lady from the gas station walking clear out of the door to the bar, drink untouched.
"Yeah well. I'm used to it." He was never good at dating, even before Val. He was pretty sure that dating Val was in spite of himself. He had maybe two girlfriends in high-school before her and couldn't talk his way out of a wet paper bag when is came to women. Or anyone really.
Flirting was... worse. So much worse.
The brunette who had chatted up a storm had seemed nice when he met her at the gas station. She probably was nice. He just wasnt good at this.
Maybe he just wasn't ready to date again.
Ever.
"Go after her maybe?" A well toned arm gestured vaguely to the door, the long, squared fingers giving him all sorts of ideas.
The man behind the bar had caught rockers eye the second he walked in. He was as large an imposing as Rocker himself; biceps as big as boulders under the sleeves of a baggy skater t-shirt, but he had his head thrown back in a barking laugh and his smile shone like the sun.
He was clearly older than Rocker, with crows feet around his expressive eyes and a hint of a limp, but his movements were fluid and his body clearly tight and strong. Hospital shirt rode up when he reached for the glasses about his head and Rocker could see a strip of golden tanned stomach above the waist of his baggy combats that he kind of wanted to lick.
Screw it. His date was never going to work out anyway.
"Suppose I should." He doesn't move. Doesn't leave his barstool, just takes a swig of his drink, his eyes never leaving the other man.
"Your enthusiasm is inspiring." Sarcasm didn't quite sound right coming out of that beautiful mouth, but it made Rocker smile.
Of course that make the other man smile again too and then Rocker was about as lost as one man could get faced with sunshine in human form. He was screwed.
"Honestly I've known her for about twenty minutes and I'm pretty sure that was the best thing that could have happened to both of us." The words weren't out of Rockers mouth for more than a millisecond before he heard how that sounded and groaned. Way to be a dick. The pretty bark of laughter from his companion helped not a bit. "I swear im not one of those alpha bro incel creeps" he whined dropping his face into his palm. "I'm just a mess, and apparently have the people skills of a carrot."
"You're alright." The older man chuckled and leant his elbows on the bar letting Rocker see the arch of his back and distracting shoulder muscles. "Let me guess, firefighter?"
"You got firefighter from my crappy people skills?" He couldnt wait to tell Tommy that one. "Close but no."
"You sure?" He squinted, "I swear I've seen you here before. I wouldn't forget all face that pretty."
Well that made sense. Out of all the god damn badge and ladder bars he had to go pick one of Tommys haunts. He sighed and took his phone out of his jeans pocket, scrolling quickly to a picture from last Sunday when he had forced his moping brother to brush his teeth and hike a trail with him. Selfie for proof, or didn't happen.
"You're not actually going to believe this." He said and flipped the phone around.
"Woah." He said "Twins?" He grinned and Rocker knew what he was thinking. Or he thought he did anyway. It wouldn't be the first time.
"So I'm told." He took his phone back and put it on the bar.
"You're prettier." The blonde winked, and did an annoyed double take as someone approached the other side of the bar. He clearly just remembered he was supposed to be actually working. "Wait here."
Hate to watch him go, Rocker thought and drained his drink just in time to see the screen in his phone flare with the Command teams SOS.
With a sad, sorry look over at the bartender who was deep in a discussion with the middle aged balding guy about the best whisky in the county, Rocker threw down some bills that he was sure would amount to an unholy tip percentage for one non alcoholic drink and left quietly to give whoever needed rescuing hell.