Never Again
Somewhere around him the faint sounds of Queen screeched out over the flashing speakers, the voices drowned out by the distant fuzz of alcohol and pressing wave of bodies. It was dark in the crowded room causing sweaty bodies to press up against Sirius with fleeting glances of touch everywhere. The muggle club was loud and dizzying with drunken regrets and forgetfulness. Sirius thrived on it, his hips swaying to music and downing glass after glass of the muggles bitter whiskey to forget.
In a stumbling haze he pushed himself through the crowd where he half collapsed onto the bar counter with a wobbling smile. The bartender’s face twitched, the only sign of his distaste.
“Another bottle please~,” Sirius slurred, his hands tapping in an unsteady rhythm to the music. Dancing Queen he thought.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough tonight?” The bartender questioned. He seemed unamused at the stumbling of Sirius as he looked down with a certain distain that reminded Sirius of Kreacher. Weaker and dirty and yet still having the gull to look down upon the heir of the Noble House of Black.
Without thinking Sirius pulled his wand out, the sharp tip pressing up against the startled bartenders chin. A certain pleasure rose up in Sirius as he saw the fear steep into the eyes of the bartender. Within a flash the pleasure was gone, replaced by disgust in himself, in the blood in his veins that found the fear like an aphrodisiac. He jerked his wand back, tucking the smooth wood back into his pocket.
“Y-yes, I’ll get your drink sir,” the man stammered out now that he was released.
Sighing Sirius nodded, his mind sobering up a bit as the irrational anger faded. He slipped into one of the empty chairs, away from the pressing crowd of drunk muggles to wait for his drink. The bartender returned looking not much calmer but with a large bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm. Gratefully Sirius took the bottle and handed the man a few bills in return, not caring to look at how much he handed over. “For the trouble,” he said. The man took the bills and scampered off leaving Sirius to his bottle.
Tucked away in his corner Sirius cradled the bottle, taking big swings out of it whenever the of last week memories climbed their way out of the dark pits of his mind.
He really shouldn’t have said anything to Snape. Sirius took another swing of the bottle.
He should had thought before he let the anger get ahold of him. Another swing, bigger this time.
He shouldn’t had tried to talk to them. Sirius tipped the bottle back only to have a few stinging drops fall out onto his tongue.
A small curse escaped his lips as he threw the now empty bottle back onto the bar counter.
“Need a refill?”
A man sidled up to where Sirius sat, his voice low and deep. He’s quite handsome, was the first thought that escaped Sirius’s alcohol impaired brain. The second was that yes, he did need a refill.
“I could go for that,” he drawled.
The man chuckled and waved the bartender over. A new one Sirius observed. The slim lady with gave them a toothy grin and handed them yet another bottle of the same whiskey Sirius had been drinking most of the night.
“Bourbon whiskey right?” The man asked as Sirius snatched the bottle from him. As his finger brushed the mans hand he shivered. He was ice cold. Sirius drew away quickly, taking a sip of the whiskey to chase away the lingering chill.
After the burning liquid settled in his stomach Sirius finally looked at the man. He was all sharp corners as if he had been chiseled from stone. A square jaw and deep set almost red brown eyes calmly swept over him. He almost reminded Sirius of…, shaking his head Sirius banished the thought.
“Just going to stare?” The man asked and Sirius realized he had asked a question earlier.
“Yeah, I don’t really care as long as it gets me drunk.” Sirius finally answered, skipping over the second question.
The man laughed again, more loudly this time as if he was amused by Sirius.
“You are quite interesting, what is your name?”
Sirius laughed this time, a bitter laugh. “Sirius, Sirius Black.”
The man’s eyes widened for a second before sliding back into their calm gaze.
“Like the star.” He mused, more to himself than Sirius.
“Yep.”
“I’m Vincent Tepes.”
“Fancy,” Sirius snarked before he could stop himself.
“Indeed, Mr. Black,” Vincent replied.
“Touche.”
Sirius downed more of the bottle, the drunken haze already clouding everything as his vision faded in a bit around the edges. Dancing Queen was playing again.
“So what are you doing in the club tonight?” Vincent asked. Sirius flicked his eyes over the man. He had a look to him, one Sirius had seen on many others. It was desperate, hungry. He wanted something, something that only Sirius could give.
“Looking for a distraction~,” he answered, smiling when the mans eyes lit up. It seemed his classic Black charm still worked even when he was drunk halfway to hell.
A jolt went up his spine a Vincent closed a hand around this wrist.
“I have room upstairs, I’ve been told I could be very…, distracting.”
Grinning Sirius nodded, his feet moving to follow Vincent before his brain caught up with him. With one hand still closed around Sirius’s wrist he led them through the crowd. The people parted for them which was probably a good thing be cause Sirius wasn’t sure if he would have made it through the moving people without falling over. Not that he thought the man would care much about how shitty he looked. Vincent led him up a staircase and into a dark simple room. It was small and a bed sat in the middle while only a small lamp lit the rest of the room. A bookcase filled with dusty looking covers caught Sirius’s attention before he was thrown onto the bed.
“You are quite beautiful,” Vincent said in a way that sounded almost hungry.
“So I’ve been told.”
A thrill shocked Sirius’s body as Vincent towered over him, his hands coming up to pin Sirius to the bed. Quickly he descended down on him, his lips pressing up against Sirius. Sloppily Sirius reciprocated although not very well due to the all alcohol. It was like he was under water as Vincent’s tongue forced its way into his mouth. Moaning into the kiss Sirius twitched upwards, his hands tangling into a shirt.
Suddenly Vincent’s mouth was on his neck, pulling his old band shirt down as he lapped as Sirius’s pale neck. His lips were cold against his neck as they came to rest on the throbbing vein.
“I think you’ll make a pretty pawn,” Vincent whispered before his teeth sunk into Sirius with a blinding pain. Sirius screamed momentarily as the pain quickly damped into a pleasant warmth that spread across his body. His limbs felt floaty and his head was light. Whether it was from the venom or alcohol he didn’t know.
His vision grew dark at the edges, the black creeping in closer and closer. A cold hand brushed his neck, smearing his own blood across his collarbone.
“Oops,” was the last thing Sirius heard before he passed out.