Five drunk men waltz through the door– two literally dancing. Harry stifles a laugh and pats down the creases on his apron as they approach the counter of the retro diner. It was Harry's first night working here, and so far, a few people had gone through the drive thru, but he hadn't had customers in the actual building, until now.

The man up the front catches his eyes first. And with his swift brown fringe and the bluest eyes Harry has ever seen, it is no surprise he does so.

"Welcome to Kev's diner. What can I get for you today?"

Harry says quickly and is slightly embarrassed that the pretty boy has to see him in this... costume. A weird hat, striped shirt and pants, and an apron with a gigantic milkshake printed on the front of it.

"Fuck me, please?"

Harry gapes at the man, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. His cheeks turn hot.

"Oh... Uh."

"Can you hurry up, buddy?"

The ginger says, earning a quick glance from Harry. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. Was this common for the man to ask random strangers? His friends seem... Unbothered.

"Do you not have the ingredients?"

Harry swoons at his soft voice but before getting too ahead of himself, he pauses. Ingredients?

"Ingredients for what?"

"The 'Fuck Me' milkshake!"

The man points to it on the menu that sits on the counter and Harry wants to slap himself. How embarrassing. He reads over the summary of ingredients and confirms in his head that he does in fact have them. No way to brush off his mistake.

"Oh, right. Yes."

Kev, the owner, had warned him about the dirty diner menu that is given after hours. And somehow, he still thought the sexy guy in the black turtle neck was throwing himself at him. What an idiot!