dnf oneshots

34. angel shot

Bartender AU
Dream gets a request for an angel shot from a pretty brunet boy who refuses to share his name, and they spend the rest of the night at the bar. Dream becomes nearly infatuated in one night... but the boy doesn't seem to notice. [fluff]

CW// club activities (mentions of stripping, gross dancing, etc.), alcohol consumption

"Angel shot, please."

He was beautiful.

He was so much more, too, but my brain was malfunctioning, and that's all I got.

"Do you know-"

"-what an angel shot is?" he finished for me. "What, men can't get them too?"

I shook my head. "No, sorry, you're right."

He scoffed. "I know." He nodded behind his shoulder to the right. "Dark blue jacket, black jeans and brown hair," he muttered, leaning against the counter. "And a ginger ale, please."

I slid him his drink and nodded for Bad to take care of the man. As he slipped out the club door, the boy's shoulders sagged, and he sighed.

"Thank fuck," he whispered.

"You okay?" I asked.

He looked up at me, eyes narrowing. "Isn't your job to get us drunk and not to care?" he snapped.

I shrugged. "You just... I dunno. I assume this isn't the first time that man bothered you."

He shook his head. "And it won't be the last," he mumbled, moving his glass in a slow circle until the ice cubes clinked against the sides, the sound filling the quiet space between us.

The music picked back up, and he groaned. "I changed my mind," he said. "I need something alcoholic. Surprise me."

So I turned back around, letting my hands move without really noticing what they were doing, trusting them not to poison him. He already had me wrapped around his finger, and we had barely shared 80 words.

I set a cup of ice in front of him and poured a warm brown liquid the same shade as his eyes into the glass. We both watched the alcohol spill over each ice cube until it hit the bottom of the glass, and he lifted it up to his lips. As it touched his tongue, he pulled back, lips curled.

"What?" I asked, scared I disgusted him.

"Strong," he gasped. He downed the whole thing before I could reply.

As he set the glass of ice back down on the counter, the music changed, and a beam of light pointed at the stage. He turned to look, only to re-face me and roll his eyes.

"Strippers not your show?" I asked, giving him a teasing smile.

He scoffed again "Nope," he muttered. "Not the female ones at least." He nodded at his empty glass and prodded it towards me. "Not that that's any of your business."

My cheeks glowed pink as I hurried to make him another drink. I think he needed it more, less just wanted it. When I slid it towards him, he gave me a bored nod and looked away. I was desperate to talk to him, but I was just a lousy bartender, so I began to walk away.

"Wait," he said suddenly, and reached across the counter. His fingers brushed the fabric of my shirt, keeping me where I stood. He looked up at me, eyes shining and pleading. "Could- um..." He pulled away, regaining composure faster than a lightning strike. "Could you stay with me? Please?"

I smiled. He was so pretty. "Don't like being alone?"

"Not in clubs," he muttered. "My friends disappeared though."