Chapter Text
Johnny wandered through the bussling town centre, his hands in his pockets, the bag on his back weighing him down.
All around him, there was sound, people, life. It was incredible. It wasn't much different from his hometown, but somehow it felt more alive, rife with opportunities.
He ought to feel afraid. He had packed up and left his home in the blink of an eye, not bothering to look back.
But he wasn't. Hell no, he was the opposite. Fucking excited. Yeah, he had a few good memories back home in Scotland. But the bad outnumbered the good, and Johnny was sick of it.
Now, he wasn't quite sure where he was going to stay. But he has some cash in his pocket, and just as much determination. This was the start of a new life, a good life. He could feel it.
And his first stop? The pub. Surely Manchester had better bars than Greenock, and Johhny felt his mouth water at the thought of a cold pint right about now.
He caught sight of himself in the reflection of a shop windows, and cringed. God, he looked a mess. A four hour train journey hadn't done him justice, clearly. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his messily shaved mohawk oddly resembled a dead rodent.
he let out a quiet groan, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to tame it. Whatever, he didn't have to worry about shit like that any more. His mother wasn't around to reprimand him, thank fuck. He was free to do whatever he wanted now. Hear that, god? Johnny was fucking free.
He practically threw himself into the first bar he found, closing his eyes as he felt the farmiliar warmth bear down onto his skin, the unmistakable scent of alcohol making his tired brain feel fuzzy.
He checked his watch. Maybe it was too early in the day to be drinking, he mused. No, that was a stupid concept anyways. For once, Johnny was going to make his own decision, risky though it may be.
He took a seat at the bar, waving over one of the bartenders. She was young and pretty, and reminded Johnny a lot of a girl he knew back home.
She smiled at him, her long hair framing her face in an almost angelic way, and he found himself stuttering idiotically, like a schoolboy with a crush.
"Hey, uh, c-can I have a beer?" He finally said, after a moments deliberation as he pulled himself together. She smiled, although Johhny noted it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Of course." She replied, and it was almost mechanical. She didn't wait for him to say anything else, before turning away.
He rested his elbows on the counter, tapping his fingernails against the polished marble. He took this place in, drinking up every detail almost thirstily. The reddish tint of the carpet, the dimmed lights, the soft chatter.
It was just like he had always imagined it would be. Back home, Pubs weren't like this. Even mid-afternoon, it was filled with drunken old men singing or arguing or watching mindless football.
Speaking of football, Johnny fucking hoped no one in here was a Rangers fan, because he was currently sporting a bright green Celtic top. Still, he doubted it. People in England didn't tend to care about Scottish football, really.
If Johnny was absolutely honest, neither did he. He wasn't even a Celtic fan. If he had to pick a Scots football team to be mindlessly loyal too, it would be Greenock Morton, and they hadn't won a game in god knows how long.
All the big teams played down here, and Johnny was all for it.
"your drink, sir."
He blinked, looking to the bartender. She was smiling, holding out the drink to him.
"oh, thanks." He took it, flashing her a grin. She turned to go, but he stopped her.
"Hey, do you know if there's anywhere to stay around here?" He called, crossing his arms. She looked thoughtful, flicking her hair out of her face in a way that drove Johnny crazy. Damn, it had been a while since he'd felt like this. God, did it feel fucking good.
"You could try one of the hotels down the street, they're hard to miss. Or, if you're looking for something more permanent, you could always try finding a lodgings. they've usually got tons of adversements in newsagents, and stuff."
She leaned against the counter as spoke, and Johnny nodded, trying to sound as if he was still listening.
"I'm Johnny, by the way." He smirked, meeting her soft gaze. She smiled in return, her sweet, red lips curling upwards.
"I'm Seren." She replied. What a fucking perfect name, Johnny thought to himself.
"So, Seren. You from around here?" He murmured, leaning in closer to her. She nodded.
"Born and raised. What about you? You don't sound very English." She mused, her eyes gleaming a gorgeous blue in the dim light.
Johnny let out a small chuckle. He was going to have to get used to hearing that. "I'm from Glasgow."
She raised her eyebrows, looking what Johnny could only hope was impressed.
"Oh, cool." She smiled. "Listen, I have to go do my job. I'll catch you later." With that, she was gone, waving at some other guy across the bar.
He watched her go, smirking to himself. First day in Manchester and he was already making himself friends. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
He took a sip of his drink, remembering it was there. It tasted good, almost foreign to his lips. It was just beer, yet it felt so exotic to him. His first pint in Manchester, eh? He could tell he was going to have a shit ton of fun here.
He just wished he had someone to toast with.
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So, maybe Johnny was a bit drunk. Not over the top, falling over, getting into fights drunk. Just drunk enough to make some shitty decisions and maybe be a little emotional.
He hasn't meant for this to happen, but it always did. One drink turned into three, three into five, six maybe? he'd honestly lost track.
It was later now, and the bar was bussling with people, noise, chatter, just the way he liked it. He wiped his mouth, the taste of alcohol fresh and sweet on his tounge like sugar.
He glanced to the clock. 8:24. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the time. He needed to find somewhere to sleep, after all. But that was only an afterthought to Johnny.
He wanted to have some fun. And, sitting here alone wasn't quite enough. He needed company, as any guy would on a night like this.
November forth. Tommorow was bonfire night, and Johnny wanted someone to spend it with. He needed a hand to hold, a shoulder to rest his head on, a mouth to kiss.
And Johnny had his eye on someone. Seren, the bartender from earlier. Johnny knew, logically, that she was out of his leage. She was literally glowing, and he was well...
He was just Johnny. Another face in the sea of them that she had likely talked too that night.
He pushed that thought away. He could be better than any lad she'd talked to that night, he knew it in his bones. Throughout the evening, she had smiled at him about 17 times. that's gotta mean something, right?
Deep, deep down, Johnny knew that it probably didn't. But he was drunk, and needed something to make his evening a bit more fun. Badly.
He slid out of his seat, stretching. He sauntered over to where Seren was standing, mixing drinks and chatting to some other girl.
He leaned against the counter, surrounded by people.
"Hey, Seren?" He called out, and she turned. She met his eye and smiled with her perfect white teeth.
"Can I help you?" She asked, stepping towards him and adjusting the uniform she was wearing.
"Oh, I was just wondering what time you got off work?" Johnny responded. He hoped he sounded charming, rather than a bit creepy.
"Um, about ten, why?" She responded, her head tilted. Johnny couldn't help but wonder if she even remembered who he was.
He frowned, trying his best to play off his nerves as charm. "Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to uh- to do something after this. You could show me around Manchester, you ken- you know?"
She giggled nervously, leaning towards him. "Sure!"
Johnny smirked. He still had it.
One and a half hours later, and the clock struck ten. Johnny knew this, because he had been watching it tick, his eyes never leaving. People had spoke to him, and he'd spoken back like any polite guy would.
He has a very nice conversation with a man from London and his wife, who'd offered him a place to sleep for the night. Johnny had declined, after all, he was only really talking to them to pass the time. He has bigger fish to fry, after all.
First night in the big city and he was going to get absolutely laid. That was a score in his books.
He stood up out of his seat, surprised when everything spun. Jeez, maybe he did have a bit too much to drink. Whatever, not a big deal, he told himself. He knew how to handle himself, drunk or sober.
He slicked his hair back and scouted the bar for Seren. She wasn't there, but it didn't spurn him. He stumbled over to the back of the bar, trying to find the exit in the crowds of people.
He almost walked right into someone, his vision growing a little hazy.
"S-sorry, sorry." He mumbled, trying to dart around them.
"Hey, what do you think you're fucking doing?" He felt someone grab his collar, tugging him back sharply. He let out a choked shout of surprise, stumbling over his feet.
He looked up and made eye contact with the man he'd walked into. Tall, broad shouldered and painfully muscular. Shite. He tried to struggle out of his grasp, but the man held onto his collar, practically lifting him into the air.
"Hey, I said I was sorry!" He protested, his stomach churning with panic. "Listen, we can talk about this i-"
He didn't even get to finish his scentence, before he was roughly shoved backwards, stumbling into a group of men, gathered together like they're in a fucking cult. They all turned, glaring down at him. Fuck, why the hell was Johnny so fucking short??
He tried to back away, but now he was surrounded, like he was being fucking hunter. He swallowed.
"Sorry, gents. I was just looking for the door, there's someone I'm meeting and I absolutely did not mean to uh- to startle you." he stuttered, coming off far less confident than he'd intented when he opened his mouth.
One of them turned to the other, and Johnny thought he could sense amusement in his gravely voice, only for a moment. Maybe he could play this off. He had always prided himself on his charm, after all.
"What the fuck is he saying?" The man mumbled, glaring Johnny down. This accent was thick and English, and Johnny immediately felt a dislike for him.
He puffed out his chest, crossing his arms. "Oi, ya fucking dick-"
big fucking mistake. The moment those words left his mouth, he felt an elbow make contact with his stomach. He yelped, his knees buckling before he could steady himself. Someone grabbed him by the arm and practically spun him round, like some sort of sick festival ride.
He gasped, a moment before he was being punched in the fucking face.
"What the fuck, you-" He opened his mouth and immediately shut it again, his voice trailing off and he was shoved onto the ground and practically gourged on my muscular, drunk men.
Johnny whimpered, trying and failing to sheild himself from blow after blow. Everything was blurry now, and he could taste the unwelcome metallic twang of blood coating his tounge. He tried to fight back but his kicks and punches barely landed, grazing shoulders and knees and doing no damage whatsoever.
People were shouting all around him, their voices blending into one distorted war cry. He felt as though his head was being pushed underwater and held there, the burning sensation only getting more intense as he took hit after hit after hit.
"Hey, get off him!"
Johnny groaned, his brain foggy as he swallowed a mouthful of his own blood, parting his swollen lips to gasp for air. He wiped his nose with the back of his shirt and forced his eyes open.
The hits had stopped almost as abruptly as they had started, and Johnny felt the pressure release from his chest. He pushed himself off the ground, sitting up and blinking as the lights overpowered his senses.
Several of the guys had left, and the ones that remained looked comically like they had been caught. They stood beside Johnny, hiding their bloodied knuckles and exchanging guilty glances with one another.
And, in front of them, was a man. Fuck, he looked about seven feet tall, towering above Johnny and the men. His body reminded Johnny's fried brain of a mountain, strong and solid and hulking.
He was glaring at Johnny's attackers, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark and vengeful. Johnny couldn't bring himself to look away, though his head spun and he felt a bit sick.
They were talking, but it sounded distant and blurry to his ears. He felt stupid, sitting in the middle of them, but his legs seemed fixed to the floor.
The small gaggle of remaining, drunken brutes finally turned, looking like kicked puppies as they hurried away from the scene with hunched shoulders.
Drunkenly, Johnny grinned as they left with their tails between their legs. That'd show them not to mess with the John Mactavish.
It struck him that he should probably thank the monster of a man that just saved him. He was about to stand up and offer him his hand, but he'd already bent down beside him, so they were eye to eye.
Johnny searched his gaze, trying to identify his intentions. He found nothing staring back at him. Johnny had never seen that before.
Empty. The man's beautiful, gleaming hazel eyes were empty. He swallowed, wiping his nose again as a dripple of blood dripped down his lips.
"Y'alright?" The man asked. His voice made Johnny shiver. It reverberated deep in his chest, and Johnny half expected the whole building to shake as he spoke.
"a- I'm good." He responded, grinning sheepishly. He offered the man a hand, determined to stay confident.
"I'm John. Johnny, I should thank you-"
"Simon Riley."