“Okay, okay, calm down,” you hum, serving the older gentleman before you, he had started flirting with you in your empty bar. It was late and there weren’t any pirates visiting the island this time around, he was the only patron and your usual’s had already come and gone. “Come on little lady, liven up, have a drink with me, I’m a lonely traveling man,” he chuckled, downing another straight drink with no ice, mind you these were full glasses and not shots. “I can’t, I’m on the job,” you politely decline. “Is it because I’m an old man?” He asked, giving you a frown and the cutest puppy dog expression you had ever seen. You shift, feeling guilty, “u-uhh, I guess one drink would be alright..” You give in, refilling his glass before making a fruity drink of your own to avoid drinking too much alcohol. Once finished, you clinked your glasses together and drank, though yours from a straw.
He would ramble on all night about his younger years as you politely listen, sipping at your drink and cleaning up what little mess was there as he rambled on. He was genuinely kind, asking about yourself and took an interest in you though being heavily drunk himself, “so _____, how do you feel about older men?” He asked curiously, quite livid from all the alcohol he had consumed. “Older men? They’re nice. Never been with one myself,” you shrug, wiping some glasses. “Would you like to be?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you with a drunken smirk on his face. You blush and drop the glass from the shock, “oops, didn’t mean to freak you out,” he laughed, finishing up his drink. “Well, I’ll leave you be,” he hummed getting up. Just as he stood, you reached for his hand to stop, him, “h-hey, take responsibility and clean this up,” you demanded since he did after all shock you enough to drop it.
He rumbles lowly giving you a seductive look, “oh I see how it is. Well alright, if you wanted to check me out that much.” You blush and remove your hand from his, “w-whatever. Just get back here and clean this glass.” He chuckled and briskly walked behind the counter with you, you turn around just for a second to get him the brush and dustpan, giving him a nice view for him to check out your backside. When you turn back around not even a second later, he had his hand on his chin as if he was thinking, his eyes still looking downward, you blush heavily, “w-what’s that look for?” His eyes scanned up you as he continued to rub his chin, “oh nothing, just getting a lay of the land.” You squeak and shove the dustpan in his face, “s-shut up and get to cleaning old man!” He burst into laughter at your embarrassment then went on to cleaning up the glass. You watched him closely and couldn’t help but check out his backside, his crack would poke out some as his pants droop down slightly, his frim, toned backside showing a bit.
He smirked as he could feel your gaze upon him. You could hear his smirk and you reach for an ice cube that was in a bucket nearby, dropping it down his crack from above. He gasped and accidentally cut his finger on a piece he had picked up, you squeak as he hissed and cursed in pain, “oh my goodness! I am so sorry mister!” He chuckled holding his finger, “i-it’s fine, I deserved it for hitting on you.” You kneel down and carefully examine the cut on his finger and pull out the little piece of glass carefully that stuck out from his finger. “Thanks little lady, I can handle it from here,” he chuckles, pulling his finger away, putting it to his lips and licking his wound carefully before slipping it into his mouth. You swallow, as you oddly wanted to be the one to lick his wound, but missed the opportunity.
As you were distracted, you place your hand down on the ground that still had small bits of glass when reaching blindly for the dustpan. You gasp in pain and bring up your now cut up hand, “shit..” He looked at you curiously and chuckled, “you alright? You should pay more attention.” You puff out your cheeks and look over your hand which had only a few bits in your hand. He removed his finger from his mouth and reached over to take your hand, adjusting his glasses and looking over it closely. You blush as he was delicate with removing the tiniest bits, when he was finished, he would give butterfly kisses to the small wounds on your hand, his lips were soft and ever so delicate. “I should finish up and get going,” he hummed releasing your hand. “S-so soon?” You stammer rather disappointed. He chuckled and brushed the remainder into the pan, “don’t want me to leave? Have you opened your mind to me?” He smirked slightly cockily. You blush and look away in a huff, “n-no…” He laughed and stood up with the dustpan in hand, taking it to the trash bin nearby, “I’ll be here for the month, so you’ll definitely be seeing me here again.” You glance over at him, “promise..?” He chuckled and came over to you after emptying and setting down the cleaning supplies, offering you his hand to help you up, “I swear on my honor.”
