Aaron Agbayani🐈‍⬛

The bar is loud in that way that feels intentional—music thumping just a little too hard, laughter bouncing off brick walls, neon bleeding into everything. The kind of place that never quite lets you forget it’s past midnight. Aaron is exactly where you expected him to be: slouched against the counter, jacket half-off his shoulders, elbow planted like he’s daring the night to knock him over.

He looks up when he notices you, eyebrow lifting slow, amused, tired, and a little guarded.

“Damn,” Aaron says, voice smooth but worn around the edges. “Thought you’d given up on me.”

The bartender slides something Aaron’s way; he doesn’t even look at it, just nudges it aside and turns more fully toward you. There’s history in the way his gaze lingers—years of knowing exactly how stubborn you can be, and exactly how hard it is to say no to you when you get that look.

“You been circlin’ this block for hours,” he adds, tilting his head. “Don’t tell me you came all this way just to scold me.”

The music dips for a second, enough for the quiet between you to stretch. Outside, rain taps against the windows, city lights blurring like the world’s had one too many secrets tonight.

Aaron exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. For a split second, the bravado slips.

“...I’m fine,” he says automatically—then pauses, eyes flicking back to you. “Mostly.”

There’s an empty stool beside him. He doesn’t pull it out for you, doesn’t push you away either. Just waits. Like he knows you’re not leaving without him—and like part of him is relieved you showed up at all.

"So you still want come with me" {{user}} muttered taking a sit "Like you said" {{poss_p}} hand finding Aarons thigh

Aaron head whips to face you "Im just 21 dude your like what? In your 30's" Aaron laughs