bartender!Remus Lupin x bouncer!Sirius Black x stripper!reader [1.4k words]
A/N: this was a request I got excited about last night and wrote it in a flurry and now it's missing from my inbox 🥲 the request was an image of two guys standing near a stage speaking to a dancer who was bending down to talk to them with the caption "the bartender and bouncer chatting up their favourite dancer at the end of the night" and then a request for whichever ship I think this would fit best
CW: fem!reader, reader is a stripper and it vaguely mentions her state of undress but barely, SFW, Remus is sweet, Sirius pretends that he's not but he's actually sweet too, fluff
A large glass of water and a prettily made cocktail appear in your eyeline, both held by a set of lithe fingers which bring an instant smile to your face.
You remember yourself and attempt to straighten, realizing belatedly that the way you’re sitting on the stage hunched over as you undid the intricate straps of your heels is likely quite un-sexy.
It’s ironic, really; the fact that your hands are more blister than they are skin at this point and the fact that you are absolutely parched, yet your heels always take priority at the end of your shift.
You were the closer for the bar tonight; not usually your favourite shift but the tips made up for it.
Mostly made up for it.
There were perhaps…other things that also made up for closing shifts.
“Here,” Remus says, crooking his fingers at you in the universal gesture for come here, “you drink, I’ll do these.”
You consider arguing but ultimately concede; your fatigued muscles and dry mouth – likely for more reasons now than the simple issue of dehydration – sees you inching your way towards the edge of the stage so that your calves hang off of it, Remus busying himself with the straps immediately.
“This bloke bothering you, doll?” Another voice drawls; the arrogant hints of aristocracy making itself known in his syllables even as he saunters over to the two of you like a blissed-out rockstar.
Remus, for his part, snorts incredulously. “You wish.”
You laugh at the bartender. “Why? Is he just dying for an excuse to have you pressed up against the edge of this stage?”
It earns you a warning tap of your (now free!) ankle as one heel is placed gingerly on the stage next to you and Remus starts on the other. “You’re meant to be drinking, you minx.”
You don’t bother apologizing, more than aware that Remus isn’t actually mad as you bring the glass of water to your lips; Sirius winking at you when you meet his gaze.
Sirius had shown up for his first shift in the pissing rain; his entire form hidden beneath a hooded jumper layered beneath an oversized leather jacket. His head and face had been covered by the soaking wet hood and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jacket.
You’d given the owner of the club a strange look regarding the newbie, feeling that – compared to James and Fabian – this bloke didn’t appear to be all that intimidating for a bouncer. He wasn’t particularly tall – though you wouldn't call him short, either – nor was he particularly wide (granted, your point of reference in that regard is James, so, do with that what you will).
And then two, fully tatted hands emerged from the pockets in order to pull his hood away from his head, exposing a head of onyx hair pulled back haphazardly into a damp and careless bun, fierce, dark brows furrowed as though the rain personally slighted him which gave way to steely grey eyes. The length and fullness of his lashes almost threatened to take away from his edginess, not unlike those of a baby cow, but then those eyes surveyed the room with the assurance of someone who has spent countless years scanning every room for potential threats, and you looked to Minnie in apology for ever doubting her.
By the time Remus was hired on, you were smart enough not to question the matriarch.
You survey Remus, then, who’s unwrapping the last of your straps from your ankles and freeing your sore foot from the shoe. He’s not built like a bouncer, either, though you’ve seen him hand a few men their arses when they caught an attitude close enough for him to hear from the bar. You weren’t convinced that the honey colour of his eyes were capable of going ice-cold until you’d seen it for yourself.
You find yourself feeling particularly lucky to have not found yourself on the receiving end of one of those glares.
“Good shift, gorgeous?” Sirius asks the way he always does; resting one elbow on the edge of the stage as he splits his attention between you, the bartender, and the last of the patrons petering out of the doors. You give him the same answer every time.
“It was alright.”
To which he always responds with “you look great.”
You try to ignore the way he never says you looked great, past tense, but rather that you look great, presently; a pullover quickly shoved over your head as your shoulders gradually sag under the weight of the evening.
It’s, admittedly, getting harder and harder to ignore.
“She always looks great.” Remus adds, though it’s not said in opposition but rather in agreement.
“How about you?” You return the question, not sure how to respond to their unabashed compliments.
“Oh, no complaints.” Sirius sing-songs, smiling at Remus like they share a secret. “How ‘bout you, Lupin?”
Remus hums in agreement as he rests his forearms against the lip of the stage to your other side, not unlike the way he leans against his bar during lulls in orders or when he’s dedicating his attention to a customer or a dancer. “My shift was quite alright, thanks. My favourite dancer closed out the bar, so, that’s always nice.”
“Oh for-” you start, never finishing your sentence as you make yourself busy with downing the rest of the water.
“Awe, Remus; you made her shy.”
“Okay, that’s it.” You threaten with a wide smile on your face, making to grab your heels and fancy drink only to be stopped by the same hands that brought you said drink and freed you from said heels.
“Oi, where’re you going in such a rush?”
You don’t bother dignifying him with a response, merely narrowing your eyes at him as he fights against a mischievous smile. He cocks an eyebrow at you.
“To change.” You laugh, neither man deigning to correct you seeing as you’re actually not going to change so much as you’re about to get dressed.
“Well I don’t see how.” Sirius states plainly, shrugging one shoulder as he gestures towards your bare feet with his opposite hand. “You’ve not got any shoes on.”
“And, what?” You deadpan. “This isn’t exactly a no shoes, no shirt, no service type of establishment.”
You manage to elicit a cheeky smile out of him for that, the kind that exposes sharp canines and crinkles the corners of his eyes.
“We can’t have you walking on this dirty floor with your sore feet.” Remus coos in a manner you might have assumed to be being patronizing if not for the honest divot between his brows.
“Quite right.” Sirius agrees as he straightens, moving over in order to stand between your legs with his back towards you. “Up you get.”
“I beg your pardon?” You actually giggle like a sodding school girl.
“I’ll give you a ride, c’mon.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh again as you look at your empty glass, your drink, and your shoes. “But-”
“I’ve got it. Up you get, dove.”
Your cheeks are on fire but you do as told, looping your arms over Sirius’ shoulders and around his neck as he encourages your weight off of the stage.
He barely manages three steps before James is hollering at him.
“Oi, dickhead! Don’t worry about me then, yeah? I’ve got it?” He jokes as he locks the door behind the last patron.
“Brilliant! Good lad.” Sirius smiles in return, either ignorant to or in spite of the two-fingered salute he receives from his coworker.
“Oh, that reminds me: James has been hounding me to exercise more, so if he asks, doll, I’ve been working out with you.”
You try and fail to hide the burst of giggles that elicits out of you into Sirius’ shoulder.
“Why would you tell him you were working out with me?”
“That doesn’t sound like the soundest of alibis, mate.” Remus agrees.
Sirius, for his part, shrugs. “You girls are some of the fittest people I could think of; beats having James yell at me in a public gym.”
“Careful,” you tease, “I’m liable to make you come work out with me just to avoid being complicit in a lie.”
Sirius makes a rather pleased sound that vibrates in his ribs beneath you, sharing a knowing look with Remus.
“You, me, and a pole? Doesn’t sound like a bad time at all, gorgeous.”
Remus’ steps falter as Sirius makes his way down the hall towards the girls’ change room, forcing him to speed up lest he fall behind. “Well, now, hang on a second…”
imagine you and sirius fucking in the bar bathroom when you know bartender!remus takes his break and he catches y’all and gets all flustered
“Bloody hell-“ Remus exclaims when he walks in to see you propped up on the sink, sirius pounding into you. “This- this is a public bathroom, you know!” He turns away, hands in balmy fists at his sides. Sirius snickers.
“Oh we know, mate. Thought we’d give the public a little show- isn’t that right, doll?”
it's probably the end of the night and he's just doing last calls, and when he drops off the shots where you and sirius are sitting waiting for him to get off, he presses his wet fingers to your lips "clean these for me, love." and sirius laughs when you gag a little on his fingers, but only rem can tell that you're rubbing your thighs together under the bar, and only you can tell that the look in his eyes is not entirely amused and he was definitely doing it to mark his territory and remind sirius who owns you <33
thinking about bartender remus who’s so charming with all the women that order drinks and makes the place feel safe bc he never hesitates so tell creepy men to fuck off when they’re making people at the bar uncomfortable
thinking about you and sirius both flirting with bartender!remus and convincing him to hang out with them after he finishes work
plzplz the three of you end up in the bar for hours after closing, just talking and laughing and getting to know one another <33 remus had been mixing you both drinks, but ofc not drinking himself since we was working for most of the night, so he drives both your giggly, drunk asses back to his place and lets you crash in the living room <33 you wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking, and while the gesture is so sweet you both groan at the way it makes your stomach churn, so he promises he’ll let you guys sleep over sometime soon and make you breakfast that you won’t be too hungover to enjoy
Tags: Non-magic AU, singer!sirius, barkeep!remus, pub setting, nervous Remus, smooth Sirius, what's new there, pre-relationship. tags to be added? idk :)
CW: Cursing, implied sexual content, flirting(impolitely)
wc: 1k
a/n: hii super excited! this is my first drabble in a long time, so i hope this came out alright ♡
~ Third Person POV Limited— Remus ~
A jazz club in London is packed to the gills tonight.
On stage, Marlene finishes introducing some bloke named Sirius Black, and Remus tends to another customer.
Remus sighs as he wipes the counter, fills another glass of whiskey, and tries desperately not to stare at tonight's entertainment.
A beautiful man with long, ink-black wavy hair is playing an absolute symphony on thoroughly loved Les Paul, and Remus has never, ever, in his entire life been more jealous of a guitar.
And he can count on both hands the number of times he's been jealous of a guitar.
Remus dares a glance.
Fuck.
Remus regrets that glance.
Right then, on the platform, with the spotlights turned high and illuminating the man with a blinding grin, Remus dies.
Well, not literally, but he's as good as gone for the bloke.
"It goes on, and on, and on, ohh—"
Remus damn near shivers from his voice, smooth like velvet and tickling his brain the same way. "Oh god," He mutters, turning around quickly to clean his space, praying to every deity watching that one Sirius Black will stop for a drink before he leaves.
Wait.
No, no, no, no, fuck, idiot. Remus takes that back.
Hear that, Jesus? Aphrodite? Thor?
Remus prays the singer won't stop by for a drink.
Really, he does, with a quick hail Mary. His nerves will entirely get the better of him and oh— oh.
When did the song end?
When did he start walking this way? Walking this way? Fuck!
Act natural— shit, what if Remus' hair is messy?— it's totally fine, just act cool. Get the man a drink.
What's he want? Whiskey? Bourbon? Fuck, he looks expensive—
"Cheers, mate. Can I get a glass of pinot?"
Wine??
Fuck, forget the drink, his voice.
"Bit fancy for a night out, isn't it?" Remus manages to remark as he fills the glass, glancing up and finding it to be an utter miracle that he doesn't blush when he meets the silver gaze of the other man.
God, he smells like cheap perfume. Remus fucking loves it.
"Never too fancy for a good vintage," Sirius smirks and leans against the bar on his forearms, hands clasped together and his silver jewlery twinkling under the low lights of the club.
Fuck, did he coordinate his jewelry with his eyes? Bloody unbelievable, the high-maintenance radiating off this git.
Sirius nods in thanks, sniffing the wine. "Is this '98? She's gorgeous."
Remus merely raises an eyebrow. "It's wine, from a barrel with a hose, that my batshit boss dragged in last week." He replies flatly, internally patting himself on the back for not stuttering. "I'll be surprised if it doesn't make you keel over."
Sirius raises an eyebrow back, taking a sip. "Tell your 'batshit boss' that I bloody love her, will you?"
Remus blinks at him. "...You like the wine?"
Sirius grins. "I'm absolutely high on it. Can I have another round, love?"
Love. It takes all of Remus's self control not to shiver.
Oh god.
Remus nods, instead of embarrassing himself, and turns around to clean a fresh glass for Sirius.
Meanwhile,
~ Sirius' POV ~
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
Is this bloke celibate?
I've turned up all my bloody charms! He hasn't even given me his name!
Christ, you'd think I'm a schoolboy with how bleeding obvious I'm being.
I clear my throat subtly, taking another sip and forcing myself to lean closer. "So..."
Oh for fuck's sake, what do I even say?
"Did you like the set?"
Smokin' hot barkeep looks at me with a thousand yard stare. "The set?" He echoes blankly.
Yep. Nice going, totally got his attention. Hook, line, and sinker.
My smile tightens slightly. "Yeah? The set, mate. You know, the songs I just sang?"
Barkeep nods slowly, his lips parting into a perfect 'o' shape.
"Right. Yeah, I liked the cover of Journey."
My eyes light up. Holy hell, the git did listen to my set!
"Yeah? What'd you think of it?"
~Remus' POV ~
Remus suppresses a laugh, simply tilting his head instead. "I just told you, Sirius. I said it was okay."
The singer flushes slightly, realizing he just repeated himself. "Ah, right. So... you liked it?"
Remus rolls his eyes. "You're reaching, Black."
Sirius pouts. "Black? We're on a last-name basis now?"
Remus sighs, barely audibly, and gives Sirius a look of pure exasperation.
No matter how fine this man is, I will NOT be tolerating an idiot.
"What were we before?"
Fuck, awful word choice, Rem, Remus can practically hear Lily's voice scolding himself instead of his own.
A devilish smirk spreads across Sirius' face. "That's what I'm trying to figure out, handsome. So, got a name?"
Remus ultimately loses his composure. "R-Remus."
Sirius arches an elegant eyebrow. "R-Remus?" He repeats with a deliberate stutter. "You wouldn't happen to have a brother named Romulus, would you?"
The bartender groans, tossing a cleaning rag down, quite literally throwing in the towel. "Come off it, you git. Let me give you my number." His face is dusted in a light shade of pink.
Sirius' grin softens(but doesn't entirely fade), and he grabs a napkin and a sharpie, scribbling his name and number. "Demanding, are we?" He teases, now wanting to see how flustered he can make this 'Remus'.
It entirely backfires on him. "Oh, I'm very demanding," He murmurs, his voice dripping with innuendo as he leans forward against the bar, mirroring Sirius's posture. "Maybe you need a demonstration, love."
Sirius' jaw goes slack, but Remus isn't done. "Keep your mouth just like that and maybe you can sing for me later." He smirks, reveling in the deep red coloring Sirius' pale face. He reaches out and gently presses his index finger under Sirius' chin, closing the other man's mouth with utmost tenderness. "You'll catch flies, Sirius."
The man shakes his head slowly. "Fuck you, bloody tease."
Remus' grin widens. "That could be arranged, sweetheart."
Sirius' mouth goes dry. "Time and place?" He stammers, his heart in his throat.
remus would get really jealous and possessive when you go into the bar with a guy but the next night you go in all sad because the guy was a dick and he is like i told you so and to make up for it he gives you many drinks until you end up bent over in the back room getting fucked into oblivion while he roughly whispers in your ear
ugh yes he’s definitely so cocky abt having been right 😩 “see, those guys aren’t fuckin’ worth your time, doll”
your dark!remus thoughts has me SHAKINGG your brain is absolutely amazing and now i can't stop thinking about bartender!remus making your drinks too strong or giving you many free drinks and shots because you are having a bad day just so he can use you in the bathroom <3
PLZZZZ guiding you there and pushing you to the ground to fuck your throat 😵💫😵💫 grumbling “better not fuckin’ throw up on me” as you gag and choke 😵💫😵💫😵💫 reaching down to palm your tits through your low cut dress and muttering “bet you wanted this, wearing this sexy little number”
