I’m not gonna subject you lovely people to my slight irritation.

Jake swallows thickly, this was getting away from him and fast. While the rolling back of fallacies seemed to work a bit, it provided new issues. Harder ones to overcome. He’s starting to feel like a piece of shit, the more and more they converse, and maybe he just needed more to drink to ignore that; or maybe it was a sign. 

Regardless, he was feeling guilty so with his last drink he cashes out, “And take care of his tab too while you’re at it,” he instructs the bar keep. The handshake is good, puts them on better footing he supposes. He should have tried being friendly. He was good at this, so why was he so bad at this? Was it the whole undercover thing?

He nods, “Yeah, I’m sorry I… look.” A sigh passes through his lips. “You’re really, really attractive, and clearly out of my league. I think I got in my own head and convinced myself that you were making eyes at me, so I thought I had to come over and play the game I’ve had played on me before. It was a mistake, and I apologize. So I’m gonna get going, but I do hope I see you around… tomorrow night maybe? I’d like to actually take a chance to get to know you a little better.”

Reading this guy was beginning to become all the harder Usually he could tell when shit was going down but right now? He really couldn’t tell whether this guy was being genuine or not. It was so strange 

"Appreciate it,” He told him when Nick ended up paying his tab Jameson supposed he couldn’t exactly say no to free drinks. Still, he definitely had to repress a snort of laughter when he was described as “out of his league.” Oh, Casey would get a laugh outta that one, that was for sure. It was enough to stroke his pride just a bit though, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“You were fine, man. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Rejection’s kinda typical around the bar scene, y’know. Not  worth getting yourself all down about it,” Jameson did try  to help, mainly because he did really bad for the guy. It must’ve been pretty embarrassing, if was actually being genuine with his attempts. It wouldn’t have been right of him to be a douche about it. 

Jake flushes red almost instantly. “Oh God,” he mutters, nearly sputtering up his drink. “I totally misread this situation.” He laughs, awkwardly at that, before grabbing a napkin to pat his lips dry. “I’m sorry, I… to be honest I thought you were making eyes at me across the bar.” He orders a new drink for himself, this time a whiskey like the other man was drinking. 

“I honestly don’t do this often, I know I said I did, but I was trying to-” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat. “Look, I’m bad at this, horribly bad. The last time I was at a bar in this city, a guy pulled that on me and it worked like a charm. I thought the same thing was happening so I tried… and failed mind you, to do the same.” He checks the time again, it was getting close to the time he had to head back and get to bed. “Let me get you another drink. Or food, have you eaten? I feel like I owe you a burger at the very least.”

He offers the man his hand. “It’s Nick,” he introduces. “And I take it your name is Jameson? If I remember correctly?”

Oh, that immediate admission of guilt was a hard one. Jameson wondered just how old this kid was, if he was that quick to take back when he was trying to portray. Either this guy was playing shit up hard, or he really needed a confidence booster. That suspicion was still there, especially as the stranger offered him another drink, or even some food. The older man just shook his head at both offers.

“I’m all right, thanks,” But puts his drink down to shake his hand, regardless of his words. With a small nod, Jameson confirms the other’s thoughts. “Yup, Jameson. Or Jay, occasionally.” Nick, then. There were a lot of guys named Nick, but he didn’t quite look like any Nicks he knew. Perhaps he was just imagining things, getting a little paranoid from the red-eye flight that he and his team had been on earlier that day. Fuck, he needed to sleep  sometime soon, hopefully.

The drinks arrive in a few moments and he pulls out his wallet to give the bartender his card as collateral. He’s careful, not to let the other see too much so he doesn’t get any ideas of what this is all about. The last thing he wants to do is cause a scene really. Unless that scene was making out with the enemy, because that sounds hot and this guy was even hotter.

“Oh yeah, I’m the same,” he admits. “Company sends me down once every few months to go through things, attend some conferences and stuff. Just routine, boring kind of things. But I do meet some interesting girls,” he professes, taking a drink before smirking. “And guys.”

When the other looks around Jake takes a moment to check his watch, still early, so he was in the clear thus far. “Sorry, just have an early start tomorrow, don’t want to be up too late. You know?” And like any good undercover agent, Jake had done his homework. Found a nearby conference that worked, and made up his mind on how he was going to sell himself. But he didn’t present the details, he’d wait for them to be asked if they did at all. He offers a yawn, “I should get going soon anyhow. Can I give you my number?” he asks. “Or would my room number be easier. If I’m being forward, I apologize. But this typically works in hotel bars.”

Jameson found himself a little surprised by just how brief this was being. Usually, things like this lasted a little longer, with more pursuant past just getting a drink bought for him and a couple minutes of conversation. Usually it was him trying to make a sharp getaway. With what the other was suggesting, though, a few giggles bubbled out of him.

Forward was definitely one way of putting it.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t even know your name, and you wanna give me your room number? Sounds a little fishy to me,” He expressed, a level of suspicion beginning to form behind his relaxed demeanor. With that said, he took one last sip of his first drink, and went on to the drink that’d been bought for him. At least he’d seen it prepared, else he probably wouldn’t have dared to touch it. Didn’t need any of that shit when he was beyond busy tomorrow. 

Jake smirks inwardly, chuckling softly at the other. While this wasn’t their hotel, there’s was a bit more nearer the financial district, he knew that right now he seemed like a fan. But he’d already ruled out going with that strategy, instead opting to just try and appear like a local or tourist. He just wanted to be the guy hitting on the cutest guy at the bar.

“A whiskey man,” he notes. “Can’t say I disagree with that.” Ordering two more drinks from the bartender with just hand signals, he motions to the man, Jameson, beside him, to order one for him. If this was going to work tonight, then he’d definitely need to get him a bit more drunk. Not that he was going to take this anywhere beyond the bounds, but only so far as the other allowed. And as long as he wasn’t too far gone, otherwise he’d just get his team to take him back up to bed. Wildly hungover could work too; if he opted to take him up on drinking him under the table that is.

“This your first time in town?” he asks. “Or do you visit often?”

“Often enough. I come up here a couple times a year for business.” Business was definitely a word for it, but Jameson knew better than to tell people about his profession. It often garnered mixed responses, ranging from people looking at him like he was a giant manchild, or as though he was the luckiest man in the world.

Neither was wrong, honestly.

He can’t help but glance around, at least to get some idea of where the couple members of his team that had accompanied him were at. Casey was chatting up a small group of girls, while he didn’t have any visual on Sharkie or Sleeves. That might end up being a problem if he didn’t locate them soon.

@theinsurrectionistleader​

This is the first time in a long time that Jake actually puts some effort into his appearance. Gone are the headphones, the hat and the mussed up hair. In it’s place is a neat combover, a close shave, and actually ironed clothing. He wears a deep v-neck, a blazer and a pair of jeans. It’s casual, but it’s just enough to look well put together. He comes up to the bar, orders a double vodka, and a club soda with lemon on the side. It’s the way that he’s always had it; you do the shot, you take a drink of something tart to wash it down. Rinse and repeat.

Making eye contact with a male across the bar, he downs his drink before moving over. “What are you drinking there?” he asks, though it’s simply an ice breaker more than anything else. He’s just a guy at the bar, and Jake isn’t supposed to know he goes both ways. “That actually doesn’t look half bad, may have to try it for myself.”

The tips of his fingers massaged into the top of his eyes, hoping that it would do well enough to ease the dull ache of exhaustion that was plaguing him. He’d done little to his overall usual look when preparing to come to the bar, but at least he didn’t seem as though he was just a typical slop going from bar to bar.

When a voice began to address him, he removed his hands from his eyes, and the possibilities already began to turn through his head. The two very real possibilities of this interaction could’ve just been a stranger urging some flirtation, or perhaps this was a fan trying to make it seem like they didn’t actually know him. Regardless, he humored the guy and offered him a bit of a grin before shrugging his shoulders.