Disclaimer: I don't own anything I'm afraid
It was a busy Friday night when Sirius Black walked into the club, causing the already intoxicated regulars to pause in their usually relentless chugging back of cocktails and wine. It wasn't that Black was particularly handsome; the majority of men who frequented Frank's were at the very least well dressed and groomed - at least until they became drunken idiots. It was only partly because of the hard glint in his eyes as he surveyed the smoky room. It was mostly because he had an intimidating grace that made even the most cocky lawyers shrink back into their booths and bury their noses in tequila.
He took no notice of anyone, and quickly, no one took any notice of him. Except for one man. Remus Lupin. The unfailingly polite - but infuriatingly quiet - pianist was staring unashamedly at Black, with poorly disguised disgust marring his features. His fingers slowed over the keys, causing the singer to falter slightly. He quickly picked up, and tried to continue as if nothing had happened. Nothing had happened. Someone had walked into the bar and bought a drink. That happened every night, Lupin told himself. It was nothing.
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'What can I get for you?' the well built barman enquired. Black turned round to the bar, digging a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.
'Double whiskey,' he replied shortly. 'And a light if you have one?'
The barman nodded. 'No problem, everything alright?' he asked lightly, taking a lighter from his shirt pocket. Black nodded without a word and put the filter-less cigarette between his teeth. The barman flicked the lighter, hand unsteady from the wine he'd been sipping at behind the bar all evening. 'Cold night.'
'Least it's not raining,' Black said, fulfilling his small talk obligation for the night. 'Thanks mate.'
He took a long drag on the fag, his keen eyes staring through the smoke. Soon the barman returned with his drink. 'Listen, d'you know anyone round here called Remus Lupin?' Black asked him quietly over the jazz music and loud patrons. He took a swig of whiskey and grimaced slightly at the burning in the back of his throat. The barman nodded.
'Sure. He's our piano player. Right good so he is. A foreign lad though, you know? Over from France or somewhere. Why d'you want to know?' the barman suddenly frowned. 'You're not from Scottie's, are you? I heard they're looking for a piano player. They're not stealing Lupin on us.'
'No no,' Black answered, looking thoughtful. 'Wouldn't dream of it. He's just- just an old friend is all.'
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'Hey Lupin, you alright? Seem a little distracted this evening,' the beautiful singer asked, smiling at the pianist.
'I'm fine Dora, thanks for asking,' he replied, dragging his gaze away from the bar. He was fine. He had a pretty girl enquiring after his well-being, he had a better job than he'd hoped for before, he had a nice flat. Everything was fine. Everything was better than fine. So why didn't he feel fine?
Too easy.
He didn't feel fine because a man he hated more than anything was standing at the bar as if without a care in the world, talking with Mattie and knocking back whiskey. How could he possible feel fine if he couldn't punch his face in and punish him for what he'd done? Remus sighed heavily and fingered a minor chord with deft fingers. 'What's next?' he asked Dora.
The night passed slowly. By half twelve, Remus was exhausted. Black still hadn't left, though he'd stopped drinking whiskey by that time. Remus had taken to avoiding looking in his direction, but occasionally he'd slip up and glance without meaning to at the bar. Each time, he found Black staring intently at him.
I'll talk to him afterwards, Remus decided. Tell him to leave, that I never want to see him again. I could ask Mattie not to serve him if he comes back. Would that work? Probably not…
AN: so this is my first ever AU fic, so feedback would be really appreciated. I've no idea how long this is going to be, but it probably won't be short. Most likely will be slash later.
