This was not one of his best choices, yet at the same time it wasn’t worst. It seemed like the both of them were surprised that this was really happening. Hell, Barry was surprised with himself. That he was actually going to go through with this in the first place. Another thought that had been circling around in his head— he probably should have waited to hear the other’s name before hanging up. Now they’ll just have to go by clothes, mostly. He had offered his name, so that was at least something. He took a breath; why was he even nervous? Oh right, this wasn’t something he actually did often. Trying to do a one nightstand just wasn’t his style. True, he wanted to at least try, but– a tiny part of him kind of hoped it wouldn’t go that way. Hey, who knows, perhaps it could be something else? There was nothing wrong with being just mildly positive. after all. Okay Barry, stop, now you’re just being ridiculous. Shaking his head, he’ll go with the flow he supposed. And with that thought, he arrived at the bar. Man, he really wished he could get a least a little tipsy. Barry looked around to see if he could spot anyone wearing a bowtie, and a blue cardigan. The bowtie would certainly stand out. After a moment— was that him? It was the only person with a bowtie he could see. Okay, you got this. The speedster made his way over, and settled next to him. “Hi— I’m Barry,” he said, that didn’t sound lame, right? He was trying to at least look confident. “You called earlier, from you know,” okay now that did sound lame.
Feeling a tiny bit better after his drink–Blaine hooked his heels on the rung of the stool and bounced his knees to the beat of the song playing. It was a way to get out some energy that kept building up the longer he waited. Studious eyes stared through the glass he lifted–elbow propped on the bar–and held eye level. What the hell was he doing? There were a few times within the last minute where he pondered if leaving was a better idea. But outright ditching someone wasn’t okay. Not anywhere close. Sure he could text him and tell him something came up. Yet, he didn’t. Something just kept him firmly planted in his seat. Everything seemed to intensify as his heart began to beat faster. Not the dulling numbness that alcohol usually made things less sharp around the edges. No, that was nowhere to be found. Every person that came within a few feet of his stool was given a quick glance but none of them had the crimson–or was it red?–sweater that Barry pointed out he should be looking for. Just as his glass was put back down on the bar and he let his hand fall to toy with some of the lines of wet rolling down the outside–he heard a voice that was newly familiar and quickly moved his finger back to join the others beside the glass. Meeting gazes with a man who was utterly striking to look at–Blaine felt his breath hitch and his lips part. Crimson dusted over his olive complexion but the smile that curved the edges of his lips made him look a little less daft, at least? “Hi– I’m Blaine.” Oh, wow. His eyes were green. “Right. Yes. I did. Um–Drink–Would you like a drink?” Good to see both of them were starting out the gate with a stutter. Somehow–the fact that they were was a much appreciated comical comfort.
pianokeysandbowties back up 