𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

hotshot- sirius

"You have anything non-alcoholic back there?" you asked the bartender, quieter than you should be, probably just barely being heard over the rumble of the birthday party going on around you, the night just about ready to turn rowdy as everyone settled into the shots part of the night. You were clutching your clutch between your hands, looking down at the countertop of the bar, peanut shells, and various unidentified liquids littering the messy surface and you tried with all your might to swallow a frown, squeezing between two bar stools to lean over the counter to check for yourself.

"What was that?" the man asked, in the middle of shaking up a cocktail, not bothering to look over at you while someone barked an order at him, clearly not all too phased by the fact that he was busy.

You felt for the man, throwing him a soft smile and a dismissive hand, knowing your order wasn't all that important for him to try and manage it between everyone else's. You wondered how he managed to do it all at once by himself, there was usually someone behind there with him- Sirius, you thought- he was quick on his feet and with his tongue, a regular flirt. You recognized him from high school, not sure how he'd ended up working in a place like this but something made you think he wasn't all that fussed about how the place ran in his absence, in fact, you were quite sure he'd not mind at all if you jumped in to give the bartender a hand, someone surely should. Before you'd allowed yourself to process the thought, you were sneaking under the bar, fixing your hair, and hesitantly placing your clutch behind one of the blenders.

"Thought you needed a hand," you smiled as the bartender in question turned to you in surprise, pausing for barely a second to hear your explanation and in the blink of it you saw his name tag, James, it read. You were sure you'd heard that somewhere. "I can't do anything fancy but I could manage to open a bottle, pull a lever, or poor a shot," you offered, already taking a bottle of something from the shelf behind you, not bothering to see what it was.

"Fine by me, just don't break anything," he sighed with a raised brow, stealing the bottle from your hand and replacing it with another. "Tequila, not water," he deadpanned before going back to his cocktail, missing the embarrassed look on your face as you read the label. The first few order were simple enough, a few beers, some shots, and a random whiskey, it was starting to feel quite fun, despite the high demand and it was much better than trying to dance with a bunch of strangers.

"I'll take one of those, love," a voice demanded from behind you, the empty beer bottles you'd scooped up from the counter falling into the trashcan with an echoed glass thud. "Though, a full one might be better," he added and you scoffed, pulling a full one from the fridge before turning around to see who the voice belonged to. You weren't expecting to find the man whose job you'd momentarily stolen, a smirk bright enough to blind you dancing on his lips as you slid the beer over to him. "Thanks," he took a sip, a slow one, far too simple a gesture to have your knees as weak as they were. "Now, you mind telling me what you're doing behind my bar? Think I'd remember hiring a pretty little thing like you."

"Your bar?"

"Last time I checked," he was arrogant, not the type that had you balling your first and rolling your eyes, the type that had you leaning onto the very counter you'd been disgusted by an hour ago.

"James was struggling, thought I should offer him a hand," you were finding your senses again, raising a brow as he looked around, the rush that sent you back here had passed, leaving a very manageable crowd for James to handle all by himself.

"I think he'd handled worse."

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to run into you," you tried, surprised by yourself and by the almost animated laugh he offered you, so was he. "Getting behind your bar, getting into your bed, it's all the same thing to guys like you, no?"

"Guys like me?" his tone dipped, eyes darkened as he leaned in as well, beer in hand as the other very daringly went to rest under his chin, showing you how interested he was in whatever you'd say next. "You don't even know my name, darling, and you already think you know me?"

"I know your name," you shrugged, grabbing your clutch before scurrying beneath the bar and out just as smoothly as before, smiling as you stood up directly next to his stool. "But I guess there won't be any harm in getting to know you better, prove myself wrong."

"I'm free right now," he quipped and you shook your head, silently scolding him for being so presumptuous.

"No, you're not, you got to get to work, hotshot," you informed him, a small scoff earned as he turned in his seat, making no effort to hide the way his eyes traveled down your body before meeting your gaze again. "See you around, Sirius."