Ori sighed heavily into his glass, leaning back against the bar idly while the people who had brought him to the club (apparently because he was becoming too 'stuffy') had gone off and vanished into the crowd of writhing bodies on the dance floor. He honestly had no idea why his old school mates even bothered with dragging him out at night anymore. He never danced, never drank very much, and they always wound up ditching him near as soon as they got to wherever they were going that night. He'd end up standing by the bar like a tool, nursing his drink, while the rest of them went off to hook up or drink to the point of forgetting he was even present.
He snorted quietly when he noticed one of his so called 'friends' trip over themselves and get smacked by the girl they'd wound up spilling their drink all over.
"Another for ya?"
Ori turned at the familiar timber of the club's regular bartender, who'd come to know Ori by name, sad as it was. "Ah, no. I think I'm quite done for the night," he said, barely loud enough to be heard over the boom of the speaker system piping dance music through the club.
"Ya sure?" the bartender asked, arching an eyebrow. Dwalin, Ori believed he recalled the man once saying his name was.
"Yes. As amusing as it is to watch my friends make fools of themselves on the dance floor, I'd really rather just be at home reading," the red head admitted with a small shrug, placing his empty glass on the bar for Dwalin to take.
The bartender nodded, swiping the glass away and tossing it into a bin behind the counter, offering Ori a hint of a smile. If one could call the tiniest quirk of the corner of his lips as a smile. "You take care, then. I suspect I'll be seeing you again next week," Dwalin said, giving Ori a short wave as the red head began to move away from the bar.
"More than likely," Ori muttered with a grimace, offering Dwalin a short wave as he began to make his way through the crowd towards the front doors. He shied away from a couple of dancers the club employed to keep people dancing, waving them off when they offered to dance with him, and made a happy noise in the back of his throat when he finally spotted the front doors, skirting around a group who seemed to be celebrating a birthday party.
Ori let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding once he was outside the club, smoothing out his rumpled jacket, and offering the bouncer a quick smile, before heading down the street, more than ready to be snug in his bed at home with a good book. He couldn't help be give pause, however, when he heard rather disgruntled voices coming from the alleyway just astride the club, before he'd even managed to walk a block.
"You said you wanted to have some fun," one voice shouted, making Ori take a quick step closer to the building, just peeking around the corner to see what was going on.
"Yeah! And by fun, I meant dancing! Not you dragging me out into the alleyway, expecting a fuck! Holy shit, I'm a dancer, not a god damn hooker!"
Ori watched in mildly stunned silence as a rather burly, and obviously drunk man grabbed someone around the arm and haul them more into the light, resulting in the red head being able to see it was one of the dancers he sometimes saw around the club. The one with long brown hair who always seemed to be wearing a fancy looking corset, and who wound up unintentionally earning him a dirty look from Dwalin the one time he'd commented on how nicely they seemed to fit. As if he'd been looking for the sex appeal of it, rather than the rather gorgeous embroidery work around the eyelets on the back.
"You listen here, you little slut-"
"Excuse me!"
Ori quickly clapped a hand over his mouth when the dancer tried to pull away at the slur, and thus being quickly and rather brutally shoved into the brick wall by the man for their effort. He knew he just couldn't continue to stand idly by any longer when the man moved to yank the dancer back onto their feet and took hold of their hair in one large, meaty hand.
"Hey!"
The two in the alley both looked up at his shout, causing Ori to only regret his actions for about three seconds as he ran full tilt down towards the man, and promptly tackling him to the ground. In his surprise, the bulky man released the dancer, much to Ori's relief, even as he realized that it gave the man access to both his hands to grab hold of his person instead. He quickly scrambled to his feet as the man began to flail around on the ground to try and get purchase to heave himself back onto his feet. While the man was still flailing about, Ori quickly grabbed the dancer's hand, heart beating a mile a minute and feeling as if it was about to burst from his chest.
"Run," he hissed, tugging the dancer along as he began to sprint back towards the street he'd been walking on, knowing the light flow of traffic was at least enough to deter the man from attacking again, even if he did managed to follow them.
"I-C'mon! These shoes aren't meant for running," the dancer huffed behind Ori, the red head finally slowing after they had run a good couple of blocks, and there were yet to be any signs of the man following them.
"Sorry," Ori wheezed through gasping breaths, finally releasing the hand he'd been holding in his grasp, turning to offer the dancer a tired smile as he sucked air back into his lungs, "I didn't know if he'd try to follow us or not."
The dancer waved their hand through the air, an air of dismissal about the gesture. "Their kind normally don't. He probably just headed back into the club to find another poor soul to try and pick up," they said, snorting quietly. They looked Ori over quickly, a small, amused smile playing across their lips. "I appreciate the save, though. You don't really seem the type to go out of your way to get into a physical altercation. If you catch my drift."
Ori's cheeks flared red at the comment, giving the dancer a mildly incredulous look. "Well. If that's the way you thank everyone who tries to save you from potential rapists," he grumbled, earning a light laugh from the other.
"I was only teasing," the brunette hummed, flicking hair over their shoulder. "I see you at the club almost every week. You never dance, and hardly drink. You usually come in with a big group of people, but always leave alone. It's hard not to take notice of regulars, let alone regulars as peculiar as you. My name is Kili, by the way," they said, offering a hand.
"Ori," the red head returned, giving Kili's hand a quick shake. He paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip for a moment before speaking. "People've really taken notice of me at the club?"
Kili laughed again. "Like I said, hard not to. Especially considering you've actually spoken to Dwalin. And apparently at length at some given point. He said you were a librarian? Definitely not the usual type we get at the club."
"Yes, well," Ori grumbled, picking at his hair a little, "My friends keep telling me that spending all my time with books isn't going to get me a relationship. Apparently going to the club and getting drunk is a better alternative. Though, I'm not quite sure how, exactly."
"They probably think that if you get laid you'll loosen up," Kili supplied, grinning like the chesire cat.
Ori sputtered a little waving a hand quickly through the air. "That's ridiculous! As if sex is going to suddenly change my entire personality. It hasn't yet, and I really highly doubt it's going to do so anytime in the future. Neither is alcohol, if that was going to be your next suggestion as to their line of thinking. Honestly. I don't see what's wrong with wanting to just sit at home and enjoy a good book and a cup of tea." He blushed as he realized the rambling rant he'd just subjected the other to, shrinking into his jacket a little. "Sorry."
Kili simply smirked at him, shrugging a little. "It's fine. And I completely understand. I see way too many unfortunates getting dragged into the bar by their friends, their whole line of logic being that getting their one shy friend good and smashed and forcing them on some poor schmuck is going to suddenly make them realize they're a social butterfly or something. It's ridiculous, but. I make really good tips from those kids, usually."
Ori stared at the smirk on Kili's face for a moment, arching an eyebrow. "You're serious, aren't you."
"Damn skippy," Kili hummed, their smirk growing into a full blown grin. "I was actually waiting for one of your friends to try and get you to dance with me, but alas. Now you've gone and talked to me, and the magic is gone." The brunette startled slightly at the bright laughter that comment got from Ori, their grin softening into a smile. "What? It's true."
"I'm sure it is," Ori murmured, wiping at his eyes a little, still smiling widely. "But, anyway…Do you want me to walk you back to the club? I'm certain you don't have all of your belongings stuffed into your corset, so I'm guessing your jacket and practical shoes are back at the club?"
Kili glanced down at the thick high heeled boots they were wearing, snorting quietly, "I wear these for nearly eight hours straight dancing and waiting tables. These are the comfiest shoes you ever did see."
Ori laughed lightly, shrugging. "Could've fooled me, the way you were complaining about having to run in them."
"You would be too, in three inch heels. Chunky or not," Kili huffed, though there was still a smile on their lips, "But, in answer to your question, I should be fine. Thank you."
"All right, well," Ori hummed, shuffling a tad awkwardly on the spot, picking at the sleeve of his jacket. "I guess I'll," he paused, scrunching his nose up with a sigh, "More than likely see you next week at the club." He rolled his eyes while blowing hair out of his face, earning a laugh from Kili.
"That seems like a long time," the dancer murmured, suddenly grabbing Ori's hand and pulling a sharpie from a pant pocket, "I'd rather see you sooner." The brunette smirked as the felt tip of the marker quickly danced across the skin on the back of Ori's hand, the red head keeping completely still in fear of ruining whatever Kili was writing. "Call me tomorrow. It's my day off. And if you don't, I'll sick Dwalin on you."
Ori simply nodded dumbly as Kili waved and walked away, a slightly smudged phone number left scrawled across the back of Ori's hand.
The librarian squirmed in his seat, hands wrapped tightly around the herbal tea he'd ordered mere minutes before, consistently casting glances towards the cafe door. He really didn't know what had come over him when he'd picked up the phone that morning and dialed the number on the back of his hand. He'd almost been praying that Kili wouldn't answer, which would save him from the inevitable awkward social interaction that would follow, resulting in Ori never being able to show his face at the club ever again. Of course, the fates hated him, and Kili did, in fact, pick up the phone. And them promptly tell him exactly which coffee shop was their favorite. And what time to meet. Ori was, of course, early. Which only added to his anxiety, given that he was renowned for being stood up on first…whatever it was they were doing at the cafe.
"Good afternoon."
Ori jumped when the seat across from him was suddenly occupied by another body, tea sloshing over the edge of his cup and all over his knitted gloves. He made a rather undignified noise as he quickly peeled his gloves off and attacked them with napkins, the person responsible for so suddenly pulling him out of his thoughts and inadvertently causing the spill scrambling to help him clean it up.
"Sorry! Wow, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," the person quickly apologized, patting at Ori's slightly red fingers with a napkin, causing the red head to finally look up at whoever had sat across from him. Who was Kili, of course. A Kili with five o'clock shadow and wearing a rather ratty looking Def Leopard t-shirt.
The first words Ori had planned on saying to Kili when the other deemed to grace him with their presence had originally been along the lines of 'good morning', or 'How are you today?', not the hasty and rather startled, "You're a man?" that tumbled from his lips. That comment earned him a rather hurt look from Kili, who began to stand back up.
"Oh! Oh, no!" Ori quickly spit out, hoping to quickly fix the whole situation, "Please, I-That did not come out right! Well, I mean, it did, obviously, it was english, but that wasn't what I meant! Er, well, it was, but only because I thought-well, it's obvious what I thought, isn't it? Oh, god, I'm just making myself look like an idiot." Ori groaned and flopped his head forward onto the table, being mindful of his tea even as his forehead smacked down on the plastic table top.
Ori fully expected to find the seat across from him completely deserted when he lifted his head back up, blinking owlishly when he discovered Kili sitting there with a lopsided smile on his face.
"You haven't left," Ori murmured, his chin still resting on the table top.
"Well, no. I had assumed your floundering hadn't meant you wanted me to leave, but I can always go," Kili trailed off, gesturing towards the door.
"No!" Ori sat fully upright, waving his hands through the air, Kili's quick reflexes the only thing saving his tea from being completely knocked onto the floor. "No, I-I'm sorry. For my outburst. I just, you look different."
Kili shrugged, a rather depreciating smile on his face as he carefully pushed the abused cup of tea back towards the librarian. "Yeah. I get that a lot," he hummed, tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear, "Comes with the territory of being a cross-dresser. Which, you should probably tell me if it bothers you now, before we continue with this date."
"Date?" Ori echoed in surprised, fingers instinctively wrapping back around his cup.
The brunette snickered, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand. "Yes. Date. Hence the permanent marker phone number on the back of your hand. If I'd just wanted to hang out, I could've waited until next Friday night."
"Point," Ori breathed, a quiet, nervous laugh escaping him. "Ah, but, right! The cross-dressing," he swallowed thickly, offering Kili a shy smile, half ducking behind the thick scarf wrapped around his neck, "No. It doesn't bother me in the least bit. Your life choices are your own, and no one should be able to dictate to another person how they should live. Plus, you know, you look good, uhm, either way."
The beaming grin Kili gave him for his words caught him off guard, and he really couldn't help but duck further into his scarf.
"Good," the dancer hummed happily, waving over a barista to take his coffee order.