(One more TW for this one: Alcohol. Maybe not the healthiest use of it, mentions of not very healthy uses of it. Not as bad as ATYD - I think? But yeah.)
I needed to go out. The constant routine of office work, experiments, writing, followed by eventual sleep was going to kill me otherwise, so I had spent several days trying to convince someone, anyone, to come to the club with me. I was pretty comfortable in our regular haunts, but it still made me anxious to go alone. I only had Saturday night free, since Friday and Sunday I had to work double shifts at the office, and I couldn't seem to work it out with any of our friends. Grant had a class he had to take, some kind of extra sensitivity training he had begged for at work and would have been a total hypocrite to miss. Sirius had back-to-back dates in two different cities, Mary was visiting family, and to cap it all off, Regulus had developed a nasty fever, leaving even Remus out of the question as he tended our sick son. I asked coworkers I normally couldn't bear to stand near, but their extra shifts were all scheduled for that night. So, I was at The Honeycomb alone. I only had a drink or two in me, and my wand was stashed in the pocket of my jeans just in case. I had recently cropped my hair very short since I had a tendency of ripping my fingers through it when I was working or nervous and I currently had it sprayed as big and curly as it would go. My limbs were stretched high above my head, my eyes closed, and I focused on the music and the heat and the movement and the scent as conflicting perfumes and colognes mingled with stale alcohol and sweat. It was a curious way of unwinding for me, one which I had discovered only a few years before, but it was working. 'School' by Nirvana had everyone sort of moshing in unison, leaving a few inches between dancers unless invited to come closer. I was still too aware of my surroundings, so I went to get another drink. As I nursed my gin and tonic, the small of my back against the bar, I was sidled up to by a young man, smiling, blonde, probably twenty-five or so. He had a half-empty glass of beer in his hand and seemed in no rush to finish it.
"You enjoying the music?" he asked. Manchester, I could hear it in his tone.
"Not as much as I could be," I said, raising my glass with a wry smile.
"That's one sophisticated drink you've got there." he hyper-enunciated for comedic effect. "Aren't you supposed to relax at the club?" When I didn't answer him, he pressed, "I can show you how we relax, if you like."
"It's heavy on the gin, I'll be relaxed enough in a minute. Not that it's anyone's concern," I muttered, looking away from him.
"I see. Sorry to bother you."
"You didn't. I just figured it'd be a bit rude to lead with 'I'm married', and thought I'd wait for you to actually flirt. I just didn't expect it so soon."
"Oh, should I have waited a bit, then?"
"I would've. Women like to be courted - what was your name, son?"
"Son? How old are you, anyway?"
"Only thirty," I laughed. "But that's no question for a lady."
"Blimey, I'd've thought-"
"That's very flattering. . ." I waited, eyebrow raised, reminding him that I would prefer to address him by a name.
"Sam, me friends call me Sam."
"And what do strangers in bars call you?"
"Sam as well, I'd expect."
"Well, I'm sure your friends feel downright privileged. It's been a pleasure talking to you, Sam. Better luck next time."
"Thanks. Err, so long, then-" he murmured, and sidled away again.
"Don't be cruel to the boy, Lupin," said the bartender, Stephen, leaning on the bar, wiping a glass. "Look at him, you've crushed the youthful light in his eyes."
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You Make Me Live (Remus Lupin x Reader One-Shots)
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