Regulus swished his drink around in his glass, trying to hypnotize himself into having a good time with the circular motion. He was sitting alone at a bar he wasn’t familiar with, drinking a drink he didn’t like. Sirius had made him come here and had made him order this stupid fruity cocktail. You’d think the bloke would have a more refined palette with his whole biker aesthetic, but he has the tastebuds of a blonde sorority girl whose goal is to get a free drink by tying the stem of a maraschino cherry into a knot with her tongue. This is no exaggeration either; the reason Regulus was alone at the bar was because his slag of a brother was shagging the bartender after he had done the cherry trick. Regulus took another sip. Still gross. He could take a double shot of anything with a perfect stoic expression, but this shit made his mouth pucker and his nose scrunch up.
Just as he went to order a real drink, a bartender brought Regulus a whiskey. Fucking finally, he thought. He went to grab his wallet, but the bartender shook her head and gestured towards a dark-haired, fit man a couple of barstools down. He had a cheesy smirk that would’ve usually pissed Regulus off, but as the lad had just saved the night, he reciprocated with a polite head nod. Regulus downed the drink and looked back over to the man. He was still staring and grinning. Regulus rolled his eyes and called out to him over the music,
“Are you just going to keep making eyes at me all night?” The man laughed and stood up. Fuck what is he doing, Regulus thought. He started making his way over to Regulus’ seat. I didn’t think this through, he scolded himself. The man was now in front of him. Regulus looked him up and down, still trying to keep a mysterious facade as he freaked out inside. The man was very attractive. Of all people to accidentally shoot a “come hither” look, this wasn’t a bad one. Regulus patted himself on the back in his mind. He was quite lanky, probably about 6’0, but still very toned; it was obvious he was an athlete rather than an avid gym-goer. Additionally, he had dark, messy hair that was longer than average, but still couldn’t be quite characterized as long. It hit him right at the brow and curled down the nape of his neck, but his ears were still visible, displaying a wide array of gold piercings. God, the gold looked great on his skin. The bloke obviously knew it too because his brown eyes and long lashes were framed by gold-rimmed wire glasses. The man leaned onto the bar top, so his eyes were more in line with Regulus’ own and said,
“Stop making the eyes at me and I’ll stop making the eyes at you.” At this, Regulus raised a brow. He didn’t think he had been very particularly flirtatious tonight. Most of the evening he had been scorning his drink and cursing Sirius in his head. But if the bloke was into that, more power to him. Regulus certainly wasn’t going to shoot him down.
“Surprisingly, I don’t really want you to.” The man smirked with satisfaction. Ugh, he’s lucky he’s hot, Regulus groaned to himself. Apparently, the man picked up on this.
“Your shoulders are tense,” he cocked his head, “you don’t like me very much.” Regulus was a little taken aback by this. The man didn’t seem to be the intuitive type. He looked more like one of the male bimbos his brother would get along with.
“You just came off a bit strong… like an explosion,” Regulus retorted. The man scoffed, a cheesy smile still plastered on his face.
“Buying an attractive lad a drink at a bar is a perfectly acceptable pick-up nowadays, thank you very much.” Regulus went to address multiple things in that sentence, but before he could, the man spoke again. “What’s your name?”
“Rio,” Regulus lied. The man squinted at him, analyzing.
“Your name isn’t Rio,” he concluded. Regulus gave him a coy smile. “But I don’t care for sand,” he continued, seemingly unbothered. This man won’t quit, Regulus thought incredulously. The man looked out to the dance floor where about twenty drunk college kids were dancing around haphazardly and then looked back at Regulus. “I bet you look good on the dance floor,” the man mused. At this, Regulus laughed. An authentic giggle slipped out of his lips. He bowed his head slightly to hide his smile. The man grabbed his chin and lifted his eyes to look at him again. Against his will, Regulus blushed. “I don’t know if you’re looking for romance- I don’t know what you’re looking for. But, I’d love to dance with you.” Regulus shook his head, partly in refusal, partly in disbelief, and swiveled in his stool to face forward again, leaving the man standing at his side. “I wish you’d stop ignoring me because it’s sending me into despair,” he borderline whined. Regulus opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. The man leaned in closer, “Without a sound, you’re calling me, and I don’t think it’s very fair.” Screw this, Regulus thought. This guy is hot, interested, and he bought Regulus a whiskey.
With no warning, Regulus whipped around in his seat, grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt, and walked backward to the dancefloor, making eye contact with the man all the way. Behind his glasses, his eyes were wide with shock, but his lips were playful with satisfaction. Regulus wanted to hit him. Or kiss him. Both perhaps. Once they were on the floor, they danced, obviously. Neither of them were very good. The man was tall and slightly awkward but was confident nonetheless. Regulus was only trained in ballroom and ballet, neither very suitable for this setting. However, to his surprise, it was still extremely fun. The most fun Regulus had had in a long while, no doubt. Regulus didn’t recognize the music that was playing, some sort of electro-pop that was trendy. Nevertheless, they must’ve danced together for upwards of an hour until the man leaned down close to Regulus’ ear so he could be heard over the music, “Let’s go grab another drink.” Regulus nodded and they made their way back to the bar.
They both sat down and the man ordered a glass of wine. He asked what Regulus wanted and added it to his tab. For James. His name was James. Regulus tried to argue to pay for his own drink, but James wouldn’t hear of it. He said it was his treat for Regulus dancing with him. How chivalrous, Regulus thought mockingly. “So why are you here tonight?” Regulus asked.
“My friend was bartending, so I thought I’d come hang out,” he scanned the room, “he disappeared about two hours ago, though. I think he went with some long-haired regular. What about you?”
“This is my brother's favorite bar and he dragged me here tonight. He went to the bathroom with one of the bartenders a couple of hours ago.” They both paused for a beat.
“Oh my God,” they realized in unison. Regulus shook his head in distaste, but James just laughed.
They chatted, and danced, and drank until closing when the woman who had given Regulus the whiskey was now ushering everyone out. Outside of the bar, the brisk wind whipped around the both of them, cooling their sweaty skin and flushed cheeks. About an hour ago, they had both received a text from their respective people that Sirius had gone back to Remus’, James’ friend, place. Graciously, Regulus offered for James to come back to his flat, as James and Remus were roommates, and James accepted.
When they got back to Regulus’ place, James started, “So should I sleep on the couch or-” but was cut off by Regulus grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. When Regulus pulled away, he smirked.
“If you want to sleep on the couch, sure,” he pulled off his jacket and let it drop to the floor, “but my bed is big enough for two.” He turned around and walked to his room, not bothering to look back. One, two, three, four, five. James came stumbling in and pulled Regulus back into a kiss by the waist.
“Bed’s better,” he said in between short pecks.
“Bed’s better,” Regulus agreed.