Chapter Text
10:00pm
On a Wednesday
Philadelphia, PA
“When was the last time you went on a date?” Charlie asked Mac on a random Wednesday night. The bar was barren, much like it always was on week nights, so the pair had taken it upon themselves to liven the place up by doing shots. They were surrounded by empty shot glasses, and the place stunk of booze, but it wasn’t anything they weren’t used to. Dennis was pretending to tend to the bar, but he was hiding his phone beneath it, scrolling through pictures of half-naked girls on Instagram. He only bothered looking up to flip Mac off when he requested another bottle of whisky. Meanwhile, Dee was cooped up in one of the booths, editing her headshots for the thousandth time, and Frank was off doing Frank shit.
Mac glanced at Dennis before bouncing his gaze back to Charlie. As always, he was dishevelled, looking like Mac had grabbed the first guy he had found on the streets, rather than his best friend. Despite appearing homeless, something about his greasy head of hair and half-zipped up, torn jacket was so endearing; so undeniably Charlie. There was a childlike innocence in his smile that made it rather contagious.
“When was the last time you went on a date?” Mac retorted. Charlie folded his arms and stared up into the light, a slight pout tugging at his bottom lip.
“I asked you first, dude.”
“Well, I dunno. My game’s been off since the whole Johnny incident.” Mac’s grin faded as quickly as it had appeared. He lowered his head to look down at the bar, which had a dark stain on it that almost resembled a love heart. He traced the tip of it, but he immediately regretted it when he realised it was sticky.
Meanwhile, Charlie was swinging his feet and chewing the inside of his cheek. His eyes were glazed over as he tapped his fingertips on the table and stared into space. When he suddenly jolted his arms out to grab Mac, Mac thought he was going to have a heart attack. “I have an idea!” He screeched like a bird.
“Dangerous,” Mac muttered, making Charlie tighten his grip on him.
“I can be your wingman!” Charlie’s face lit up like the sun. His eyes were wide and sparkly as they stared into Mac’s, and Mac hadn’t seen him so elated since he’d won that dance competition back in high school. Charlie rocked back and forth on the barstool, body trembling as if he were going to explode. Mac’s eyebrows rose on his forehead, though it was difficult to be too judgmental.
“What do you know about love?”
“Uh, a shit tonne, dude.”
Mac bit his lip to hold back a laugh. “Oh, really?” He questioned, keeping his tone as calm as possible, whilst Charlie continued to vibrate with ardour.
“Definitely! I banged the waitress even after she played hard to get for years. Tell me that isn’t romantic talent.”
That time, Mac couldn’t help but laugh. When Charlie frowned, Mac’s face softened, and he grabbed Charlie’s hands to pry them away from his shoulders. “We’ve all banged the waitress, Charlie,” Mac lowered his voice to a sympathetic whisper. “She slept with Frank, for fuck’s sake.”
“Nuh-uh, she’s not a slut,” Charlie replied, avoiding eye contact as he erratically shook his head.
“Totally is.”
“Totally not.”
Letting out a huff, Mac folded his arms. Desperate for more alcohol, he glanced at Dennis, who was still too preoccupied with his phone to get them another bottle. “I don’t care about the waitress.”
Charlie jutted out his jaw and put his hands on his hips. “She’s not a slut, but fine, I get it… You have to admit it takes a true romantic to follow someone around for that long and not get bored of ‘em though.”
Finally reaching over the bar to get the first bottle he touched, Mac poured another shot and rolled his eyes. A normal person would be able to identify where Charlie’s love had become a dangerous obsession, but Charlie was nowhere near normal. Mac hissed as he downed his shot, vodka entering his bloodstream and making him shudder. He had definitely had too much to drink, because he responded, “I guess I kinda get what you’re saying.”
“Then let me be your wingman.”
Mac wasn’t that drunk. “No.”
“Please, Mac! I promise I’ll find you someone.” When Mac’s right eyebrow curved upwards, Charlie desperately added, “If I don’t, I’ll do whatever you want for a day. Like Mac Day!”
Mac laughed, cocking his head to the side as he imagined Charlie following his every command. Embarrassing himself in front of a couple of cute guys didn’t seem like the end of the world if it meant he could fuck with Charlie for 24 hours. Mac Day was his favourite day of the year; better than Christmas. “Okay, fine. You can be my wingman.”
Charlie’s fist shot up in the air as the elation returned at full force. He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I’m gonna find you the hottest guy in Philadelphia, trust me!”
He probably wouldn’t, but Mac figured it would be pretty entertaining to watch him try.
11:32pm
On a Thursday
Philadelphia, PA
“Remind me why I let you be my wingman again?” Mac groaned, shoulder-to-shoulder with Charlie as they stared out into the crowd in Rainbow, the gayest club in Philadelphia. Whilst Mac blended in well with his mesh top and black pants, Charlie stood out as if a spotlight was shining on him. Charlie had insisted on wearing his black Adidas jacket and blue jeans, despite Mac telling him not to. Clearly, Charlie had never been to a gay club before: he’d already complained a billion times about it being too loud, too flashy, too sweaty and they’d just walked through the door. Despite his discomfort, Charlie was pushing through for Mac.
“Because I’m an expert romantic,” Charlie responded with a smirk. They watched as a drag queen with bright blue hair climbed onto the bar, drenched in glitter, and belted out the lyrics to the Chappel Roan song blaring through the speakers. Charlie glanced around the room, eyes lying on a group of shirtless guys with pristine six packs, skin so slick and slimy that the disco lights bounced off them. The sight alone made Charlie’s cheeks flush, so he turned back to Mac, who was looking at him through thin eyes.
“I don’t think that was it.” Mac filled the silence that had fallen between the pair.
“Alright, alright, it was because I said I’d do anything you want if I failed to get you a dude… but don’t worry, that won’t happen. I’m going to set you up with your future husband.”
Mac covered his face with his hand and shook his head, as he realised what he had gotten himself into. He balanced his elbows on the bar, not far from where the drag queen was still singing and dancing promiscuously. “I’m gonna need more alcohol for this, and you’re paying.”
“Why do I have to pay?! You’re already getting my services for free!” Charlie’s voice rose in pitch, as it often did when he was exasperated. When Mac didn’t answer his question, Charlie waved at the bartender and ordered them more drinks anyway. Once the glasses were sitting in front of them and they had perched on a pair of barstools, Charlie started to scan for any potential candidates for Mac to date. There was a broad range of people in the building, from the drag queen coated in makeup to smaller guys hanging out by the toilets, who looked like they’d been forced to come to the club. As Mac sipped his piña colada (of course, Charlie had insisted on ordering the gayest drink on the menu), Charlie blurted out, “Do you still like fit guys with abs like you did when we were little?” Mac spat out his drink, face darkening, but thankfully it wasn’t visible beneath the shitty club lights.
“I do not- Since when- what?”
Charlie nonchalantly sipped his own piña colada and fiddled with the stupid pink umbrella in the glass. “I saw the magazines you used to keep under your bed, dude. You weren’t very good at hiding them.” His serious tone made Mac blink profusely, mouth falling open.
“Dude,” was all Mac could get out.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t jerk off to-”
“Charlie!” Mac yelled, cheeks red. Charlie covered up his giggle by sipping his drink again.
“I don’t hear you denying it, dude.”
Mac pressed his forehead into the bar to hide his blush from Charlie, huffing as he did so. “Fuck off,” he muttered, whilst Charlie snorted and clapped his hands together, clearly amused by Mac’s suffering.
“Alright…” Charlie cleared his throat, before downing the rest of his drink, swinging off his barstool and starting to push through the crowds. Mac frowned, but finished his drink and followed him, grabbing onto the back of Charlie’s jacket so that they didn’t get separated. Everyone was dancing so intensely that they were coated in thick layers of sweat, and by the time they made it to the centre of the dance floor, Mac’s shirt was damp, and he was pretty sure someone had tried to grope him. “So,” Charlie started, whilst Mac rubbed his hands against his front to try and dissipate some of the sweaty smell. “Here’s the plan. You’re gonna go up to that guy,” Charlie nodded towards a shirtless guy, standing directly beneath the disco ball and grinding against the air. His eyes were scrunched up, and his mullet and moustache were curling up at the edges from moisture. “He’s sexy, right?”
“Charlie, I don’t-”
Hitting their shoulders together, Charlie cut Mac off. “You’re not denying it so you clearly think he is. You’re gonna go over there and you're gonna puff your chest out real big, like this,” Charlie demonstrated puffing out his chest and holding his neck up high. “And you’re gonna make intense eye contact.”
“I hope you know you look ridiculous,” Mac muttered, making Charlie pout. He slouched, drooping his neck but maintaining eye contact.
“You gotta trust me, man.”
“Buy me another shot, and I’ll think about it.” Charlie rolled his eyes but shoved his way back into the crowd again, whilst Mac watched him disappear. Mac folded his arms and watched as the guy swayed his hips from side to side and grinned at nothing, so caught up in the music that he didn’t care how dumb he looked. There was something attractive about his ability not to care what people thought about him, and Mac supposed his six-pack was pretty hot, too. When Charlie returned, he was holding a shot in each hand. Mac took one and downed it- Jägermeister, what were they 16? When Charlie didn’t move to drink the second one, Mac grabbed it and downed it too.
“Now, go. Do it.”
“Fuck you, Charlie,” Mac grumbled, but between their pre-drinks (beers at the bar), the piña colada and the shots, Mac had enough alcohol in his system to justify the shit Charlie was telling him to do. Once he had pushed his way through to the dancing guy- damn, his abs looked even better up close-, he puffed out his chest and lifted his neck, as Charlie had. He might’ve been an inch or so smaller than the guy, so the tilt of the neck made it easier to look at him. A Taylor Swift song started to play in the background, but it sounded a million miles away as Mac maintained eye contact for as long as he could.
The guy scrunched up his face and broke eye contact to scan Mac up and down. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, rubbing the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead. He stopped dancing to focus all his attention on Mac, which made Mac feel even more self-conscious.
“I have no idea, man,” Mac admitted, slumping his shoulders. “My friend dared me to do it. There’s this bet… It’s complicated.” The lie came easily, though Mac hoped the guy wouldn’t ask any further questions.
“...Right.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Puffing your chest out and staring at me like you want to eat me is definitely one of the entrances of all time. I’m not sure I’ll forget you anytime soon.” The guy smirked as Mac sighed and covered his face with his hands.
“You’ll remember me as the sexiest guy in the club, right?”
“The sexiest guy to have ever stared at me like that, maybe.”
Mac glanced back up to reinstate the eye contact, though he used every fibre of his being to ensure it was less intense. He balled his shirt up with his hand, swallowing thickly as he asked, “Does that mean you don’t want to buy me a drink?” His face fell as the guy threw his head back and laughed so loudly that he was pretty sure the entire room could hear it over the music.
“I’m not sure my husband would appreciate it if I accepted a free drink from a stranger.” When the guy waved his hand in front of Mac’s face, revealing a wedding band on his finger, Mac huffed. He turned around to search for Charlie, but it was impossible to find him when the entire club towered over him, including some of the girls. “Nice meeting you, man, but one piece of advice,” the guy yelled over the music, grinning so widely that the disco lights bounced off his pearly white teeth. “Puffing your chest out and staring, whatever that was, ain’t gonna get you laid.”
Even though his insides were hot red with fury towards Charlie, Mac chuckled. He should’ve known not to trust Charlie, considering he hadn’t gotten laid since the waitress had had a mental breakdown. Humiliation wasn’t worth fucking Charlie around for a day either. Nothing was worth making an absolute fool of yourself in front of a hot guy in the club, even if you had no chance because he was married. Mac weaved through the people until he was back at the bar, where he found Charlie, beside five empty shot glasses and a half-empty piña colada. How he had drunk so much in such a short period of time, Mac did not know. Nor did he particularly care. Grabbing Charlie’s cocktail and downing the rest of it, Mac scrunched his face up in a look of what was supposed to be pure wrath, but it looked more like constipation.
“I’m never listening to your advice again. I looked like a fucking idiot,” Mac grumbled. He slouched down into the seat beside Charlie, shoving the shot glasses to the side so he could put his forehead on the bar. His frustration clouded him so much that he didn’t even recoil when it was sticky.
“So it didn’t work?” Charlie questioned, face falling.
“The dude was married!”
Mac glanced up long enough to watch the smile reappear on Charlie’s face as he leaned towards Mac and shouted, “So you didn’t get laid because he was married, not because my techniques didn’t work.” He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, making Mac sit up and throw his arms dramatically into the air. Charlie was lucky they were in a public place, or Mac would have hit him.
“Your techniques wouldn’t have worked if he was married or not! They made me look stupid!”
“Whatever. He was too much for you anyway. It wouldn’t have worked.” Mac hit his shoulder against Charlie’s as Charlie diverted his gaze upwards at the lights flashing above them. “You gotta give me another chance.”
“No way. I am not doing that- whatever the shit that was- ever again.”
Charlie waved the bartender over with a shaky peace sign, whilst slurring out a request for another two shots. He remained stoic and silent as they poured them and slid them across the bar. Then, he picked one up and downed it. “Give me another chance, dude. We need to find someone who isn’t married, and I swear I’ll make him fall in love with you.” Mac glared at him before grabbing the other shot and drinking it.
“What’s in it for me? Looking like an idiot again?”
“Me doing whatever you say! I’ll be your bitch for two days if you let me. That’s like… 46 hours, man. You can’t say no to that.”
Mac tapped his fingers against the bar and eyed the droplet of liquid that remained in his shot glass. When he didn’t lecture Charlie on two days being 48 hours, not 46, and instead replied with, “Okay, fine,” he blamed the alcohol in his system.