Decline the twink's offer.

“Um, no. But, thanks.” The twink looks perplexed. “The barback is a real dancer. His moves are worth waiting for. Have a good night, though,” you return his rudeness with a saccharine smile then look back to your phone. If he protests before he leaves, you don't hear it.

Less than a minute later, a firm warm body slides up against your back. You reach behind you high enough to feel a mesh shirt, then slide your hand down to curl around a taught asscheek. The body jumps a little, but doesn't leave. “So fresh.” you hear Dex's voice just behind your ear. “And I brought you another drink.” He sets down a mojito bedside you.

You turn to face him, now chest-to-chest, “Am I or the drink fresh?” You reach up to rest your thumb against the nub of his dark nipple which is poking through a hole in his mesh shirt.

Dex's body stiffens a little. “Both. I saw you talking to some boys, Mister.”

You flick the nub of his nipple with your thumbnail, and Dex immediately bites his lower lip. “A boy talked to me, and I told him that nothing over there looked better than what I was waiting for.”

“Oh... then, I guess that's ok.” Dex presses against you more firmly, and you roll his nipple you've been toying with between your thumb and forefinger. He gasps a little, and you can feel him hardening inside his pants against your own stiffening cock. “And, I guess I should say a little thank you...” he leans in a little, parting his lips... and you eagerly meet him. It's a short, light kiss, just a little taste of what's to come. Neither of you quite close your eyes, but you're both smiling. Dex straightens up and licks his lips. “Can't wait for more,” he smiles broadly before dashing off again.

You catch the twinks you declined staring at you out of the corner of your eye. You ignore them and cheerfully start working on your mojito.