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Oliver felt his cheeks heat up, grateful that the crappy lighting could hide his blush. Normally he wasn’t so flustered over being hit on, but this man was seriously good looking, and Oliver hadn’t planned for it at all. “London,” he said eventually. “Chelsea, to be specific. I’m very posh, you see.”
The man laughed, sounding delighted as he leaned in toward Oliver. “Posh. Is that what you call fancy?”
“It’s what we call rich and terrifically snobby,” Oliver said, grinning back. He leaned back just a little, looking at the man through lowered lashes before he extended his hand. “Ollie.”
“Just when I think you couldn’t get cuter, you go and tell me your name’sOllie.”
Oliver let one shoulder drift up in a half-shrug. “It’s my cross to bear.”
Taking Oliver’s hand, the man pressed their palms together in a slow, languid shake. “I’m Lucas.”
Just then, the bartender came back with Oliver’s drink, giving Lucas a look which seemed like a cross between incredible irritation, and also like she was a bit turned on that two good looking men were clearly hitting on each other right in front of her. “You drinking?” she asked.
Lucas smiled at her, and Oliver noticed a faint tinge to her cheeks. “That I am. Just a beer. Whatever lager you got on tap, sugar.”
She nodded, giving Oliver a slow, lingering stare before wandering over and filling a frosted pint glass full of the light amber liquid. She set it down a little harder than necessary and leaned over on her elbow. “Starting a tab?”
Lucas grinned, sliding a card toward her. “I am. This, and whatever he’s got goin’.”
“Oh no, honestly,” Oliver began, but Lucas silenced him with a slow hand on his forearm.
“Let me. Least I can do. Show you this good ol’ American hospitality and all that.”
The bartender rolled her eyes as she took the card, and Oliver had to laugh a little. “That’s very nice of you, but I’ve been living here for several years now. The American charm, sadly, no longer has an effect on me.”
“Well maybe folks just aren’t tryin’ hard enough,” Lucas said, not removing his hand from Oliver’s arm. “So tell me, Ollie, you a student?”
“Yes, though I might be lying to cover up why I’m perving over university students at the campus bar,” Oliver said, winking. “I’m in the graduate program.”
“Excellent to hear. What are you studying?”
“Journalism.” Oliver paused to take a slow drink, smiling that she’d used the top shelf gin. The burn was slight, but pleasant. “It was that, or run off and join the circus, but one day I’d like to steal my dad’s company from under his feet, and I don’t think the board would willingly follow a trapeze artist staging a corporate coup.”
Lucas looked at him, then threw his head back, laughing. “Fuck, I am so glad I came out tonight. You drink here a lot?”
“Come on, now,” Oliver said, letting the tip of his fingers count along Lucas’ knuckles. “You can do better than ‘come here often’.”
“Well, I’d like to offer a trip back to the bathroom stalls where I can swallow your cock, but I thought that might be a bit forward.”
Oliver’s cheeks instantly heated up, and he cleared his throat. Grabbing his drink, he downed half of it in one go, grinning as he swiped the back of his thumb across his lower lip. “That would have been…something. If you had offered.” Something niggled in the back of his mind. He was meant to be doing something other than this, but Lucas’ smile was broad and eclipsing everything else in the room.
“How about we chat a bit more, yeah? Maybe not lower our inhibitions too much so we can actually make it to a stall.”
Oliver’s teeth shone over his bottom lip with his grin. “I think that sounds like the most brilliant idea I’ve heard all night.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes passed,and Oliver learned Lucas was from a very small town in East Texas, studying engineering, getting his undergrad degree before he transferred—he hoped—to MIT. He was openly gay, and had initially started at the university on a football scholarship, but blew out his knee during his first game.
“My parents can afford it, so it’s really no big deal,” he said, sipping on second half of his pint. “But I think they were hopin’ to use the bulk of my college fund toward grad school.”
“It well and truly boggles my mind, Americans and their cost of university. It’s terrifying, in fact. So much influence in the world, and your politicians actively try to dumb down the youth. Aren’t you terrified?”
Lucas laughed, shaking his head. “I try not to think about it. Why? Is it better over across the pond?”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “It can be. We’re not less racist, but we like our education. And our tea, which yours is complete shit by the way. Not that I should be surprised as you lot threw it all into the harbor for your teenage act of rebellion.”
“And yet you’re here.”
