Wyatt McKenzie

When Wyatt stepped back the boy started to feel withdrawals from his touch, pressing his lips together to keep from protesting or whining even. Tamsen could care less about the people who were watching, he wanted the man to give him all of the attention. “Looks like you’ll have to wait and find out,” he shrugged.

“You’re kidding, right? Going to a bar is my nightly ritual. Tamsen took a step forward closer to Wyatt, tipping his head up until their lips were inches apart. “I’ll see you then,” with that he took a step back and turned as he walked away from Wyatt, peering back over his shoulder with a little smirk upon his lips.

Wyatt smiled as he watched Tamsen walk away, his hands having remained in his pockets. Letting the younger man have his teasing last words. Enjoying the view from behind. 

This in itself was different. This was part of what Wyatt had started to work on these last two months and before. It didn’t need to be immediate anymore. there was no ‘only tonight’. This was something he could do now without the rigid rules and mindsets he had put in place while serving. It was a new state of being. A novelty that was, he knew, not understood by the sub who sauntered away likely a little pouty that it wasn’t going to be immediate and he had to wait. 

Eventually, Wyatt turned and walked toward home.

Saturday would be here soon enough.

“Geez, you’re just throwing all sorts of random crap out, aren’t you?” Instead of being dissuaded, Thomas only happened to lean on his elbows even closer to the other male. There wasn’t much in this world that he wouldn’t at least try, and he knew enough to know there were a few things of what he didn’t like. But there were plenty of things out there he still hadn’t dipped those grubby hands in yet. “You sound like you’re into the hardcore underground bedroom scene– like that shit those moms get off on in Fifty Shades of Grey, that it?” 

Clearly, the male himself had not delved far beyond into unusual kinks or play, his knowledge there was pretty slim and there wasn’t the biggest interest to explore it, either.  That didn’t mean he never would, it just meant he wasn’t likely to unless someone else lead him on. 

“You know my guilty pleasure?” He was laughing even before he said it. “That old time shit, where you’re roleplaying as the pizza guy or handy man–” Suddenly Thomas’ voice dropped to a low baritone as he stated, “I’ve come to fix your pipes.” He didn’t care what anyone said, those were classics. 

Wyatt pinched the bridge of his nose again and made a face. That right there said way more about Tom than maybe the guy was intending. Tom had no clue beyond the normal vanilla kind. None. No one in their right mind actually a functioning and considerate person in the Scene would refer to that as to any kind of life to reference for the Scene. 

The hand lowered, and Wyatt opened his mouth, immediately about to go into Teacher Mode. Or rant. Or both. He then closed his mouth. Then took a nice, long drink of his beer. When he spoke, he was using a tone that spoke of controlling himself, though Tom likely wouldn’t know the why. Wouldn’t know that there was so much bubbling up within him that he was repressing. Not his place. Not the place to. And honestly... he needed another beer.

“BDSM is an overarching term for many different aspects and flavors. Am I in it? Yes. However, by some degrees, I would be considered mild. That said, that book is a disgrace that should be burned.” He cleared his throat and raised the bottle back to his lips. “That is... all I’ll say...” and another drink.

Tamsen quirked a brow when hearing his change of tone, it made the corners of his lips twitch up into the smallest of smirks. “I’ll keep that in mind but I can’t promise anything,” he shrugged casually. God, what a dream it would be to have the man fuck him on the bar top. 

He swallowed thickly and let those big brown eyes of his peer up at the man. It was the slightest of touch but there was so much energy pouring through him from it. “Are you going to do something about it?” he murmured lightly, “Will you feed my fix,” Tamsen pleaded softly. 

Ah yes, how could he forget. As much as Tamsen pushed, he was still delightfully submissive in the way that spoke of knowing the right buttons to push. The look in his eyes, tone of his voice, his body language. Meant to be the perfect lure in. An offer to taste that sweet release once again.

“You’re going to be a little imp, aren’t you? Coming around looking to get punished.” Wyatt licked his lips slightly, remembering... Stepping back from Tamsen, as they were getting looks from passerby being so close in the streets, Wyatt put his hands back in his pockets.

“Saturday night. Come to the bar just before closing. Think you can manage to stay up that late?”

Oh, Thomas was perfectly aware of the name of the establishment, but that made no nevermind here. “If you feel like giving me your name, then by all means, otherwise I’m perfectly fine calling you Lights for the rest of my natural born life, sir,” he returned, with an impish little smile of interest. However long that may be… And he certainly meant that, in this moment. 

Tomorrow? Who know what he’d feel like?  Or may in twenty minutes?  Thomas always reserved the right to change his mind and there was just as likely a chance he might desperately need to know this man’s real name.  It just happened to be that right then, he didn’t. 

“Listen, you’re right, I don’t know the kind of fire I’m stoking here,” he allowed, giving the male a nod, as if to hand him the point. “But in all truth, I never do and it’s not stopped me before, it won’t stop me now. I’ve got an idea, and that’s good enough for me. All that stuff about not judging books by the cover is bologna, because every interaction starts cover-first.” And really, did it need to be said that if either of them weren’t at least a little bit intrigued by each other’s cover, this conversation wouldn’t be happening right now? 

An offer of free drink was all the green Thomas needed to know it was fine to press his luck here. At least, test the waters. The guy could always tell him to hit the road and if he did, the pale guy would merely down the rest of that drink and be on his way, no questions asked.  Maybe try again another day. Maybe not. 

“Ooo,” he wiggled his fingers in some light teasing of the other man, “I’m dying anyway, man, might as well give the first responders an interesting thing to talk about.” Laughing, the words clearly said in a joke, but also meant it. “Thanks,” saying this towards the bartender who sat his scotch down, he reached for it right away. “Cheers.” Toasting towards the owner, he took a healthy swallow, tongue lightly drawing over his bottom lip as it was sat back down, enjoying the taste as it washed down. “So long as you don’t start asking me to call you Daddy or pull out some crazy torture devices, I’m still sitting here.” 

Wyatt was going to leave it there for now regarding his name. Let Tom ask for it or learn it somehow on his own. Or, well, wait until Wyatt got too annoyed by being called Lights to let it go on. The latter was entirely possible.

Wyatt was half expecting Tom to balk. To realize he was stepping into something over his head. Wyatt was under no illusion that most people, even those who leaned his way, were not into the kinds of things that Wyatt was. That alluding to such things was a sure way of ending an interaction before it really got going. In fact, he only did so with people who really sparked that side of him. Tom really sparked that side of him.

The joke got an eyebrow raise, but that was all. Dark humor was Tom’s thing it seemed. Wyatt gave a little shake of his head. “I’m not into littles, age play, or sadism.” Those terms in and of itself lending to a knowledge beyond the norm. And if Tom understood as well? That would be only further confirmation. Sitting back properly as Tom’s drink is delivered, Wyatt took another drink of his own. “Still, no guarantee for you, pretty boy.”

“Is that what you call yourself, Lights Out? Alright, I can dig it. Sure you won’t mind I shorten it to Lights, though, bit of a mouthful otherwise, right?” There was certainly a double entendre behind these words, as could be found with much of whatever spewed forth from Thomas. Half the things that came out were obviously jokes that he was serious over. “Me, though, you can just call Thomas or Tom. Or whatever, doesn’t really matter does it? What’s in a name and all that garbage,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

Winking towards the bartender. “We’ll play it by ear.” Oh he was definitely pushing his luck, but Thomas had that way about him. There was never anything to gain if one didn’t make the efforts, right? Whether or not he got more drinks, wasn’t necessarily important to him– he was happy to even get the one, despite his ploy in hunting for more. “Since it’s just the ‘one’,” here the male air-quoted this number with a darting look towards Lights, “I guess I’ll splurge–” Implying he was about to order perhaps the most expensive, alcohol-fueled drink they had available. “Scotch on the rocks, please and thank you,” he said then, delivering a mild slap to the bar counter, because why mess with the classics? 

As the bartender went to prepare that order, Thomas shifted his body in towards the other male. Not in his space, but certainly offering him the focus for now. “And here I thought I was full of it,” he laughed, considering the other with a tilt of the head. “You know there’s two of us here, right? I’ve got agency in this matter too, remember? The night’s young and there’s no telling where it’ll end up– I don’t even pretend to know that future.” In spite of the other man’s assumption, he smiled. “But your confidence is sexy, so make sure not to lose that. It’s a dying quality these days.”

There was a moment where Wyatt was mildly confused. Of course, the place was called Lights Out. Didn’t this guy, Tom or Thomas, see the sign of the place he was walking into? It was as he was taking another drink just after the man introduced himself that something clicked.

He suppressed the groan, thankfully, but still couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose. This one went from righteous, indignant privilege to... talkative and cocky as hell. Oh yes, and flirting wit.

God save him.

Ok, so he enjoyed it, but Tom didn’t know that.

“The bar is Lights Out, and I’m 90% sure you know that. Instead of fishing for my name, you could just ask.” Wyatt didn’t give it. He wasn’t just going to hand it out. If this was how Tom wanted to play it, he’d work for it.

So, Wyatt took another drink and took his time with it. Only then glancing over at the younger man again.

“Yeah, there are two of us. But darling, I don’t think you know exactly what dance you’re edging close to.” Setting his beer on the bartop with his hand still touching it, Wyatt leaned a bit closer so if the tender came close with the ordered drink, he’d not hear. He didn’t need to know his boss’s personal life.

“So unless you really are just dying to be taken over someone’s knee...” Unlike the stoic-like persona of before, which was purely about work and professionalism in the face of, well, Tom... Wyatt now smirked. Practically daring Tom to continue or back away.

She pouted a little bit before turning back to her drink. “That’s fine-I can dance in my chair. I’m not really good at dancing, to tell you the truth.” Alexis admitted with a little chuckle. She called her dancing ‘terrible dancing that no one will ever see’ and had always declined a dance at formal events. “If you want to see me dance, I can show you a terrible video of me at a cousin’s wedding.”

Wyatt chuckled and held up his hands. “By all means, dance away in your chair.” He wasn’t one to stop a person from having a good time. So long as it was done safely. He then shook his head a bit, clearly amused by her offer. “That’s alright, no need to break out any proof. I’ll take your word on it.”

“Hey, it’s only gauche if you drink alone by yourself.” Ashley said this somewhat wistfully, pursing up his lips. Maybe he had had a little too much to drink already. Drinking made him anxious, and he was certainly being anxious. “I don’t do that, for the record,” he added as an afterthought, as if he had to prove something. “I just, I don’t know. Once you’re past twenty-five, it starts to get hard to have a social life. So here we are. I mean, here I am. Not you.” He hummed a little, looking around the bar. “But between you and me, my friends didn’t ditch me here. I sort of showed up on my own.”

He smiled a little, softly, distracted by something else before focusing on Wyatt’s face. “Have you always been in the bar business? In general?” 

Wyatt chuckled at that. The guy wasn’t wrong. The rest of what Ash said had Wyatt humming and nodding a bit. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t ditched. But it is alright that you came here on your own, you know.”

At the question, Wyatt shook his head. “No. This is a career change. I was a Marine. It’s been a little over a year since I was discharged. Military Police. So.. I get what you said, in a way. It’s easier to talk to other military people, or when it’s for ‘work’.” He gave a shrug. There was also the ease he found in talking to talk a man into his bed, but... he wasn’t going to mention that.

Reaching up to pinch the cigarette from his lips, eyeing the other man as he droned on about the smoking situation like it was even still a thing Thomas cared about. Though he smiled to himself anyway, particularly at being labeled ignorant, because that sounded about right. There was plenty the pale, skinny fella had general knowledge on and yet was expert in none. Unless one considered his knack for engineering things, but even then, that was more hit or miss. 

In fact, much of Thomas’ life consisted of a trial and error basis. He was just sorta wandering around, doing whatever came to mind at the time, and either things worked out or they didn’t. 

Those impossibly blue eyes lowered to check out the bar owner’s rump as he turned and headed back inside, almost lazy about it. But the younger male took his time to finish the nicotine break, before he really did get crabby about it, and then snuffed it out on the cement under his shoe. 

After this, Thomas headed back inside, moving to resume the seat he had before. Giving the guy a look, one that had a twinkle of the mischief that’d been there before, and a good bucketload of confidence. “See, I knew you wanted to buy me a drink,” saying this as he signaled for the bartender.

Wyatt went back inside and sighed as he took his seat. He saw the bartender looking nervous and the short-order cook having stepped out from the kitchen. He gave the cook a nod and let them take over the bar as he had a short talk with the bartender. Making sure they understood. The ashtrays were stored back up in quick order and things settled in the bar pretty quickly after. He didn’t work the earlier shifts, and so hadn’t had to see Decter come through for a meal with Mira, or other parents that would come through for the sort of pub food they served earlier in the day before it got totally greasy and with the only purpose of soaking up alcohol in a person’s system.

Wyatt had made quick work of the rest of his beer and just sat it down when the reason his night had taken a sour turn reappeared. Sitting back down on that stool next to him. Wyatt’s only tell was to close his eyes a moment, stealing himself for the moment to come. He then tapped the lip of his bottle as the tender shot him a look, signaling for another.

“Lights Out is buying you a drink,” Wyatt said as he turned his head a bit to look at the man. “If I was, this night would be ending differently.” When the tender got close he tilted his head to the side. “This drink is free, and only this drink.” He gave the man next to him a pointed look to convey ‘don’t push it’.

“Lights out– looks like I’ll be paying a visit sometime soon,” he cooed and smirked up at Wyatt. “I hope you don’t mind me coming to bug you now,” he teased, scrunching his nose.

f he wasn’t blushing enough as it was he was even more when Wyatt reached out to tuck hair behind a ear and even more when hearing the tone of voice. Tamsen felt chills down his spine making him shift upon his feet as he peered up at the older man. “No, I just haven’t let anyone.” 

There had been a moment when Wyatt had been debating on taking the offer and moving here that he had thought of Tamsen and that night. It was only logical that in making such a big decision that he examined it from all angles, including past flings. The flings in Atlanta and the state of Georgia as a whole were not enough to make him turn it down.

Now here he stood on a sidewalk facing one of his past flings and finding this situation interesting. He was not as put out with running into someone he had fucked a second time. In fact, he was intrigued. 

“If it would bother me then I wouldn’t have told you,” Wyatt said honestly. “You just cannot get in the way of my work.” He was serious as he said that with a sense of command in his voice.

“Hmmm,” Wyatt’ss finger trailed down to tuck lightly under Tamsen’s chin. “No, no one has been right. Anyone worth it would have seen your potential and worked for it.”

“i see mira a lot. i haven’t seen you before now but hey, it’s nice to meet the co-owner.” sam offered the man a smile and nodded his head. “are you around here as much as she is? i don’t know how i haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah, for two months, but I don’t really work behind the bar. I tend to blend in.” He said with a shrug as he took another drink from his beer. “You could say I’, the man behind the scenes, and Mira’s the face of the place.” Which suited him just fine. 

Winnie’s head pulled up from her phone when she heard the man’s voice. She gave him a smile, shaking her head with a soft laugh. “I’m just being stood up for a blind date I didn’t even really want to go on,” she admitted. “One of those things where your friend’s husband’s friend is newly divorced and wants to get back in the dating scene. How about you?”

Wyatt winced at the woman’s response. That was rough. Not that he had any experience in blind dates. He could, though, see where it would be embarrassing. “Well, the good thing is that, other than me, no one here knows that. So you can always salvage the night.” He smiled a bit, hoping to help her perk up some.

“I’m doing alright, enjoying the night as much as I can.”

◜ ☆ ｡ ‘ truth, honesty, loyalty, and determination that is incorruptible . ‘

NAME : WYATT MCKENZIE AGE : THIRTY-FIVE YEARS PRONOUNS : HE/HIM HOMETOWN : NYSSA, OR TIME IN ATLANTA : TWO MONTHS OCCUPATION : CO-OWNER OF ‘LIGHTS-OUT’ BAR

FACECLAIM : STEPHEN AMELL WRITER INFO : ROSE - 34 - EST - SHE/HER

Hearing that he was the co-owner, Ivy raised her eyebrows a little in surprise. It hadn’t really been something she had expected but it definitely did explain why she had already seen him around here a couple of times before. “It’s a bar, thought that happens all the time.. or maybe I’m just usually hanging out at the wrong places”, she replied, partly joking even though she had definitely seen a lot of bars way more run down than this one. “Guess the beer around here can’t be too bad if one of the owner drinks it himself.. still good to know who to complain to if it isn’t anymore at some point!”

“Depends on the bar. And I like to see myself as the hopeful type. Hopeful that my patrons will make it to the toilet.” He gave her a little grin there. It was a decent night. Hopeful wasn’t a lie. For now.

“I mean, we still serve the usual... but we also got some good imports.” He saluted her with his bottle, which was a German import lacking the usual condensation on the bottle. Some beers were not meant to be chilled.

“Or maybe, if you stopped to use that thing I’d hope you got under that dome there,” Thomas said back to the other man, walking backwards as he spoke, casually tapping the side of his own skull several times to indicate where he meant, “most folks aren’t pulling out the Great Book of Georgia Laws to memorize because they’ve got better things to do. And, y’know, because I wouldn’t be the moron to open a bar that allows underage patrons since it’s a fucking bar.” 

That was unimaginably stupid and redundant, wasn’t it? Open an establishment with a primary focus of serving alcohol and make it family themed.

Of course the male noticed that it wasn’t just a bar– you could buy dinner and such there too. Most restaurant-type places would indeed, allow patrons under the legal drinking age. But, pfft, Thomas felt like being petty about it anyway. 

As soon as he was outside, the custodian struck another match and lit the end of the second cigarette. Inhaling deeply, while his other hand came up to rub and pinch at his nose, sniffling several times as he did. “Save your apologies and own your Asshole,” this was directed towards the owner who apparently came to relay that, “because that’s all pointless anyway. I’m a big boy, I can handle my hurt feelings.” Exhaling the cloud of smoke, the male’s blue eyes rolled a bit– honestly he didn’t even care. 

He had, when Wyatt first grabbed his cigarette away. But he was over that moment just as quickly as it’d come.  And he certainly would rather people be upfront and own their behavior, than try and hide it behind fake pleasantries. The guy could have politely asked him to go outside to smoke, and he hadn’t. It was too late to pretend he was civilized now. 

Wyatt let the man say his piece. Standing with his arms loosely crossed. Having handled situations far more perilous and stressful than this one. Sure, he missed the weight his rank had held, but... 

New life, McKenzie. Stop it.

“I apologized for the confusion my employ caused by setting out ashtrays. Not just to you either, but other patrons as well.” It was part of being an employer. you took responsibility for your employees’ actions. “However, the way my partner and I run our business is our own concern, not yours. Not to mention your ignorance of the law will help neither yourself nor this bar in a court of law or with a cop. If you have a tab, considered it covered. If not and you wish to return, there will be a drink on the house for you.”

Wyatt only lingered a moment after saying such before turning to go back in.

Normally Alexis wouldn’t frequent bars-she was normally the one where she had to get her sister out of whatever situation she’d gotten herself in. But tonight it was just her, and no one else, sipping on her negroni. She was just slowly nodding her head to the music when she heard his voice. “Yes, actually I am,” she answered with a nod. “I love the music, it’s making me want to dance.’

He grinned widely hearing that. It always made him feel good when someone was obviously enjoying themselves. At least that was what he was finding here. It made him think more and more that he made a good decision when he had denied the deputy position and came out here to help Mira. “That’s good. Sadly there is no dance floor here.”