Ugh. I wanted this to be better, but it feels like such a nothing little chapter. And my tooth is HURTING and I can't really focus on anything else so ;-; I apologize for this lackluster oneshot for the lovely John Price. I promise to try and do him more justice in the future for a different prompt. Much love<3!!
Random pub in the middle of town brings you to meet some new faces.
"Is this seriously the best you can do?"
"The rest of the bars are closed, c'mon! Don't bail on me now. We literally just got here!"
You let yourself be dragged along by one of your co-workers. Truthfully, you don't know how you entirely ended up here. You're not even sure if you really remember her name. Meeting in a throwaway elective class you took to give yourself a break in the monotony routine of your every day.
That is the goal for your daily schedule. This part, where you're getting dragged to a second location by one of your inebriated classmates, wasn't something you had even considered being in your cards.
This woman drags you into a pub off a street you're not quite sure you recognize either. For a moment, you consider this is her kidnapping you. But, once inside, you can see some people and hear more of them beyond the bar. The bouncer takes a look at both of your I.D.'s, and you swear he shoots you a sympathetic glance before nodding that you're both good to enter.
"Eee! Okay, see if you can grab a booth, I'll get drinks." She runs off without asking what's your order. You're nervous at what she'll put in front of you, but at least she seems eager to pay.
Facing the rest of the room, you see that the booths are actually a little crowded. There are a lot more people than you were anticipating. There are some women, but mostly grizzly men that you can't quite make out in the dark lighting of this place.
It all spells bad news. But, you swallow what little pride you have, shake your head at the crowds, and press on to do your best in your hunt for an open seat.
All the patrons are too involved in their own worlds at the moment. Cheering, chastising, probably flirting with one another. You don't pay attention to it. Seeing a mostly empty table in the far off corner along the row of booths, and sliding into the far seat. Fist bumping, and praying your girl will be able to find you.
Someone clears their throat from across the table, and you jump at the deep noise. A man sits with a glass of some-sort of dark liquor on the rocks. He is dressed in a large, dark corduroy coat, a beanie pulled just past the middle of his forehead. His eyes are focused on you, stare sharp and blue. "S'there something I can do for you?"
"Oh! Oh, god, sorry." You breathlessly laugh. "I didn't see you here."
"It's alright," he replies, voice rough and dark. He has an accent, too. British. "Didn't expect you to. I try to be unassuming."
You slowly nod in response, looking him over another time. But, you don't make way to move somewhere else. Who's to say you don't have a fair chance at getting your table.
"What brings you here tonight?" You ask.
The man shifts to look over his shoulder, gesturing with his chin towards a nearby trio of large men. "My team and I were looking for a night out. Figured we'd find one here."
Looking over each individual, you don't entirely know what to make of them. One is wearing a full-faced beanie which honestly freaks you out, and they're all truly massive. Big shoulders, and loud. The shorter of the three has pints cluttered at the edge of the bar and you can't help but laugh.
"Your team?" You laugh, looking back to your friend who smiles back.
"Yeah. Good guys who just like to drink a lot." The man grabs his drink and gently tips it back to his mouth. You take this split second to give him another look over. He, too, has a seemingly larger frame and defined features beneath a nice trim of facial hair. He's hot.
"Sounds fun?"
The man laughs through his nose, placing his drink back down on a coaster and shrugging towards you. "Sometimes, sure. But, one too many drinks can make me more responsible than I'd like to be."
"Got a rowdy crowd with you?" You ask, letting your eyes wander over the end of the bar once again.
"Definitely." The man huffs, and you see him shift towards you in his seat. Looking back, you find his hand extended in your direction. "Before it gets away from me, I'd like to introduce myself. Name's John."
"John," you repeat while taking his hand. "…Not a very memorable name."
John laughs and happily shakes your head. His laughter is nice, warm. You're also starting to feel warm, but a large part of you thinks it's the hot shame crawling up your spine. Who tells someone their name isn't memorable?
"The pleasure's all mine…?" John drags out his question in wanting you to fill the blank. You quickly reply with your name, and John's smile settles back against his features. He repeats your name, too. "An incredibly memorable name."
"Oh, please." You take your hand back to wave him off. "I don't deserve that kind of flattery."
"And why's that?" John shifts closer to you, taking his drink and staring down at the ice cubes. Low-effort, non-nonchalant.
"I— Hah! You barely know me, for one thing. But, another thing," you don't hide getting closer to him, leaning into his shoulder and actually feeling how massive it is under his coat. "Do you think you'll get something out of this?"
John doesn't say anything, but raises his brow while taking a long sip of his drink. You roll your eyes, but can't fight the smile off your face. In turn, John takes his time, slowly swallowing the sip of his drink and holding your gaze.
"Sweetheart, that is entirely up to you." John leans back against the booth, letting his arm fall behind your head against the backrest. "I never expected such a dime to find my open table. Whatever you're giving me, I'm enjoying. Can promise you that."
He's breathtakingly honest, and it takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's saying. Usually, patrons in establishments like this one are the one's who make your skin crawl, with their bad breath and sweaty bodies. John only seems to know how to make your heart race, which is a surprisingly nice change of pace for getting hit on at a bar.
"Well, good. Tells me you're not greedy." You nod quietly.
John gently shrugs, turning up towards the head of your now shared table. You follow his gaze, and freeze up when you realize you do recognize the person there.
"What the hell?! Where have you been? Here." Your friend places some weird looking cocktail in front of you. "Cosmo. You're favorite!"
Not even close, but you don't tell her that as you take the drink slowly. "Thank you…"
"Ooo, who's this hottie?" Your head shoots back up at your friend acknowledging John. You stare at her to shut-the-hell-up, but it definitely falls on blind eyes.
"Hah, nobody. I was just giving up this table for you two." John starts to shuffle towards the edge of the table, and suddenly everything is changing too quickly. You realize you'll be a fool if you let this opportunity pass you.
"Wait," You quickly chime-in, bringing your purse to your lap and furiously digging through the thing. You pull out a receipt you remember pocketing after running into a bodega, looking up and holding out your other, empty hand. "Pen, anybody?"
John slides a pen that must've appeared out of thin air into your palm. You don't question it, clicking against the end and scribbling down on the small piece of paper.
"Here," you hand the paper in John's direction. "If you're really getting up to leave."
John eyes the paper quickly before plucking it from your fingers, silently nodding in your direction which you can only perceive as a thanks. You don't say anything more, but shoot the man a wink. Hoping something is coming out of this.
"Woah, woah, Price!" Suddenly, another voice swoops in and you all look to find a shorter man with a mo-hawk suddenly putting an arm around your friend and leaning down towards the table. You quickly recognize him from the end of the bar, and find the other two men waiting patiently behind their rowdy friend. "You didn't tell us you was bringin' company over!"
Your friend starts to protest, but one look at the attractive man and she's ready to hear what else he might have to say.
John sighs with a quick shake of his head, "Can't ever leave me in peace, can ya' Soap?"
"Nope." He stands a little taller with too confident of a grin. "Not in my nature."
Your friend starts peeping up with random questions, and turns to the rest of his friends to talk their ears off as well. You, on the other hand, look back towards John. Finding him already watching you.
"Guess that means we don't have to say goodbye quite yet?" You ask.
