There's something about Philip, something about his face and the way he carries himself, that has him always coming off as somewhat predatory. Strange as it may be, Freddie considers it one of his more alluring attributes, the twisted grin on Philip's face sending a warmth all through his spine.

He reaches for the cigarette, plucking it from Philip's fingers and taking a deep drag, his gaze intent all the while.

"Styx," he answers on the exhale, his head tipped back to breathe a plume of smoke into the air, nodding vaguely in the direction he's come. "Gay bar about a mile back. Ever heard of it?"

It's possible Philip's stopped in once or twice on a night Freddie's not been working, but he's certainly not a regular. Freddie would know in that case. There's no way for him not to notice when Philip's about.