Disclaimer: the pups are not mine, no matter how much I wish

Chapter One

"Oh, for Christ's sake. If you stay single any longer, your dick's gonna turn purple and fall off."

Sirius looked up from his manuscript and squinted, his eyes having to adjust to the bright white light pouring in from his hallway and into his study, where he preferred to keep the lights dim and calming, especially when he was carrying out such a stressful task as reading over the changes his editor had made on his first draft. First drafts were always the worst to get back, all red pen and no room for original ideas, just the shit the company wants you to write for horny teenage girls.

"My dick isn't going to fall off, Jamie." He smirked, sitting back and dropping his pen onto the desk, "Had a girl round last night. Left her bra on the floor if you really wanna go to my room and check."

"Don't call me that," James Potter grimaced. The man who was currently pestering Sirius had been his best friend since the start of secondary school – two mischievous misfits who had connected instantly and caused a reason to panic for their teachers. Behind James stood Peter and Frank, two other old friends from school, and Alice, Frank's long term girlfriend whom he had met in the same office at his job.

"Funny how we never see these girls…" Peter hinted pointedly. Sirius just rolled his eyes, turning back go the manuscript and trying to focus. It was, however, all in vain. Alice danced forwards and snatched the pen, tapping him on the head with it.

"You're no fun anymore." She pouted, "Come out, just for one night!"

"That's what you said last time."

"Lord." James sighed, "So help me, Black. If you don't come out with us tonight, I swear to god I will try my matchmaking skills on you again."

Sirius sighed, defeated. James' matchmaking was the stuff of dreaded legend – the last time he had 'helped' Sirius, there had been an unfortunate incident involving a dwarf and a horse…Sirius didn't like to think of the disaster too closely. He dropped the manuscript back onto the table and pushed his chair back, standing up.

"Fine. You win." He shrugged, "Where're we going?"

"New place. Which means you are not going out dressed like that." Alice said in disgust, wrinkling her nose at his blue jeans and Black Sabbath t-shirt. The fashion queen herself was wearing a chic, skin-tight dress with pop art all over it. Frankly, it made Sirius' eyes hurt. The guys were sporting different variations of dark, skinny jeans and button down shirts that were unbuttoned at the top to show way too much chest hair than was necessary and, basically, attractive. Even poor Peter had squeezed himself into a pair of drain pipes.

Twenty minutes later, Sirius found himself sitting in a booth in a loud bar – some new place called Frenzy where the music was too loud and the people too drunk – his hair tied back and dressed up in a pair of black jeans he could barely walk in, a black top with such a low v neckline it practically reached his navel, his leather jacket he hadn't worn in years and his boots he secretly loved but no longer wore since his motorbike had been totalled in a crash a year ago.

"Another drink?" Sirius asked, shooing James out of his way to escape the booth and the thumping speaker above their heads. They all shook their heads, still laughing and nursing pints, so he made his way over to the bar, swigging the rest of his beer back and pushing his way through the crowds to grab a bar stool. None of the bartenders took notice of him, busy with other customers instead, so he set his glass down and watched the scene buzzing around him.

At the tender age of twenty five, Sirius hadn't been out 'on the scene' for at least three years, having had problems enough to deal with and no time to leave the house – thus was born the author who rose quick to fame, Sirius Black, writer of the popular series Eternal Legacy.

"What would you like, sir?"

Sirius turned to answer, but stopped when he saw the barman wasn't addressing him, but an older man beside him. The customer leant forward, crooking a finger and offering a rather creepy smile and – instead of acting offended and recoiling – the barman leant in, too, to listen to whatever the man had to say. Sirius watched with interest as the barman straightened again and winked at his customer.

"Dorcas!" he shouted across to the other end of the bar, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard over the music. A petite girl with bright red hair turned after finishing serving a customer and skipped over with a sweet smile.

"You must be Mr Howards," the Dorcas girl said in a nasal New York accent, crooking her finger at the man beside Sirius, "Come with me, sir."

The man grinned, almost hungrily, and followed the bargirl away through the crowds packed into the pulsing club. Sirius realised he was staring after them when someone cleared their throat. He jumped and turned to see the barman watching him in amusement. He nodded down at the empty glass.

"Another one?" the barman asked, propping his elbows on the bar and leaning uncomfortably close. Sirius held his ground and nodded, feeling as though he was being threatened. He shook himself mentally – that was stupid. Why would a bartender threaten him? Well, it was either that, or he was flirting. When the man came back with his drink, Sirius could have sworn he was checking him out, so – remembering himself and that he looked, even if he did say so himself, pretty damn hot – he threw the bartend a wink and turned to go back to his booth.

"You were gone long enough." James huffed as Sirius sat down beside him and took a sip of his second pint, "Where're our drinks, then, you cheap arse?"

"You all said no when I asked, you twat." Sirius smirked, "And it takes a while to get anyone's attention, so good luck up there."

"Fuck you." James said, getting up to climb all over him to get out of the booth. Sirius shoved him off into the crowds writhing around on the dance floor, watching him stumble away with a laugh.

"You're sure in a better mood after one drink." Peter observed, nodding towards Sirius' second drink, "You score up at the bar?"

"Not quite." Sirius shrugged, "One of the staff made eyes at me…I think."

"Black is back!" Alice cried, always the lightweight.

"At last." Frank agreed, "Now just get onto that dance floor and use those pulling skills to get someone who can shag you and not break company policy."

"I don't think that'd be a problem…" Sirius mused, thinking of the Dorcas girl disappearing with that leering man. Before he could explain to his expectant friends, there was a light tap on his shoulder and he twisted to see four people – four beautiful people – standing beside their booth, all smiling down at them. Peter made a low whistle and Sirius didn't blame him.

The bartend who had served Sirius was tall and lean with a confident smile, a sprinkle of light brown facial hair and long hair with blonde highlights that rivalled Sirius' own in length and had a slight wave that reminded him of stereotypical surfer hair. His eyes were drawn down to the barman's clothes – skinny jeans so tight it was sinful and a carefully casual Jack Daniels t-shirt that fit so perfectly to his toned torso he must have been sewn into it. Sirius' favourite part of the ensemble were the bright red braces attached to the belt loops on his jeans that hung down around his knees – or perhaps the matching red high tops…either way, he was definitely something to be admired.

An appreciative hum from his friends directed Sirius' eye to the other employees. They were all attractive people – there was a set of twins who stood a little too close together, with strawberry blonde hair and matching rolled up shirt sleeves and tattered converse, with a curvy woman with a head of fiery red hair and bright green eyes, sporting a short green dress and a small smile. The girl with the purple hair wasn't there, probably still with her creepy customer.

"Can we help you?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his seat and observing their visitors with interest. The redhead gave a pretty laugh.

"More like, can we help you?" she corrected with a flip of her hair. Sirius heard Alice give a sad sigh – she had cut her hair into a short pixie style only a few weeks ago and had missed her long, luscious dark locks ever since – as the hot barman gave him an amused smirk.

"Don't you remember that I served you?" the bartender asked, "Or have you got short term memory loss?"

Sirius just smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"We realised no one had been to see you and thought we would," one of the twins said in some kind of European accent, stepping forwards and directing his eyes at Alice. His twin moved up behind him and added, "I don't suppose you would like to dance, pretty little girl?"

Alice blushed profusely, much to Sirius' entertainment. Frank sat up, indignant.

"No! She's with me." Frank protested, pulling Alice closer under his arm. The twins shrugged and drifted off, looking for new prey to snag. The bartend and the girl laughed and exchanged knowing glances.

"Sorry about them," the redhead apologised with a shrug, "They have a particular taste. So, can I help you boys out at all?"

Peter glanced at Sirius, who shrugged, a smile starting to form on his face.

"Well, if you need me, I'll be by the bar." she smiled and left. The barman said nothing else, simply gave Sirius a very obvious once over and ran his tongue across his lower lip, before following the redhead.

"What was that about?" Peter asked uneasily. Frank shrugged and Alice watched the twins on the dance floor almost wistfully. Sirius sighed in exasperation. Honestly, were his friends – the people who went out almost every night and tried to convince him to leave the house at least once a week – actually more naïve than him?

"They're prostitutes." he informed them matter-of-factly, finishing his second pint. They all blinked at him dumbly as James finally returned, balancing a tray of drinks, a stunned look in his eye.

"What happened to you?" Sirius asked his best friend, taking a glass from his tray and standing to let him sit by the wall. James set the tray down and slid into the booth beside Peter.

"This woman…goddess…asked me to go to the alley with her and…"

"Do something indecent, right?" Sirius smirked, leaning against the wall of the booth instead of sitting down – no, he had much better plans than sitting and getting drunk. He could do that at home; wasn't every day you met a real life whore. James mouthed like a goldfish.

"Her eyes, Sirius…her hair!"

"What did you say?" Alice asked, having snapped out of her shock at finding out their newest Friday night haunt was, in fact, a secret brothel.

"What he always does in front of gorgeous women," Peter chuckled, "Insulted her by accident and then failed at flirting."

"Pete right, Jamie boy?" Sirius asked, patting his friend on the back consolingly and passing him a drink. James sighed desolately.

"Asked her if her tits were real."

"Mate…why?" Frank asked, thoroughly confused.

"Because he's retarded." Sirius provided, dodging a punch aimed at his crotch, "Sorry, Jamie, I need that. No hitting. I'll see you fellas and a lady in a bit."

"Where're you going?" Alice asked, looking around nervously with her new revelation in mind.

"Gonna make things interesting." He grinned, downing the rest of his third drink and tossing James the glass, who caught it deftly with a glare – years of rugby really paid off, thank god, or he would have had to pay for the glass which would have been embarrassing. Sirius turned away from them, hearing James ask the world if he was going to die alone and Peter's dry assurance that he surely wouldn't if he would just get a bloody haircut, and skirted around the dancers to approach the bar again. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. The barman was easily the best looking one there – he turned and smiled when Sirius called for his attention.

"Another drink?" he asked over the music with a sultry smile. Sirius couldn't help but smile back. He was going to have to ask directly – the man wouldn't take hints deliberately. Bloody bastard.

"Well," Sirius smiled back, lowering his voice and leaning closer, "I think I need you, so I came to the bar like your friend said to."

"Oh," the barman smirked, propping his chin in his hand and tapping his bottom lip with his index finger, drawing Sirius' attention down to that lip. "And is it her you wanted?"

"You."

The man's smile widened at the decisive order in Sirius' voice and curved a finger at him, indicating for him to follow. Sirius shadowed the man around to the other side of the bar and through a door when told to, marked employees only. He was led down an ordinary looking corridor, doors leading into offices and a staff room dotted about, but when they descended a staircase and were through another door – this one locked and accessed by a key the bartend pulled from his pocket – everything changed.

The hall they were in now had deep red carpeted walls, ceilings and floors that swallowed up every sound of their breathing, their footsteps and even the pounding of the club above them. The way was lit only by a few black chandeliers hanging low with little light coming from their bulbs and there was door after door after door, each closed, as they made their way down the corridor. Sirius was about to ask where they were going, when the man stopped suddenly – almost making Sirius walk right into him – and unlocked one of the dark wooden doors to usher his guest inside.

Only feeling hesitant and nervous now – was this really what he thought? Were they going to kill him? Sell him? Shave his hair off and sell that? – Sirius gathered his manly bravery and stepped over the threshold, hearing the man enter behind him and close the door softly. The room was decorated in tandem with the hall; the walls, the ceiling and the floor was carpeted in a soft deep red, plush carpet and a black chandelier cast a dim glow on the rest of the furniture, which consisted of a large king-sized bed all made up with red and black silk, a blood red chaise, a large black chair that reminded Sirius of a throne, a built-in wardrobe and a dressing table. Another door stood open beside the dressing table to allow Sirius to see a luxurious bathroom, fully equipped with a Jacuzzi and a walk in shower.

"So what do you want, then?" the man asked, coming around to stand before Sirius, spreading his arms, "Handjob, blowjob, the full thing. Do you prefer to top to bottom…or do you want to watch me? That's not uncommon."

When Sirius didn't answer and only stared, the man laughed, disbelieving, "Unless you didn't even know what I meant up there and I've gone and dragged down some innocent bastard."

Sirius watched him sigh heavily and retreat to the throne-like chair, collapsing into it and throwing a leg over one of the arms lazily, eyeing Sirius distastefully.

"Why do I always get the weird ones?" the man asked in exasperation, "Spit it out and quit staring. It's rude. Now, have I taken you down here against your will or did you know that I was asking you if wanted to fuck?"

The harsh, crude words sounded odd – he could hear the faint Irish accent, mostly flattened out by a London one he must have picked up from living there too long, and the rough vulgarities didn't match up to the slightly lilting accent, let alone the freckles he could now see scattered across his nose which were visible in the better lighting that allowed his face to take on a softer quality.

"No, I knew what you meant." Sirius assured him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, conscious that it was very warm in the room and realised it was probably meant to be, to make customers want to take their clothes off, "But I'm not here for that."

A/N: So what do you think? R&R :D