Chapter Text
"Live now; make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again."
You can barely hear your roommate over the constant commotion erupting from the patrons of the rowdy bar. In hindsight, you should have known that the bar would be complete chaos: tonight marked the end of Starfleet Academy’s final examinations, and this bar, in particular, was the closest place to grab a drink for a young recruit like yourself. If someone were to tell you right now that every current Starfleet recruit in your class was at this bar, you honestly would not be able to disprove them -- there are really that many people packed into these four walls and there isn’t a uniform in sight. Starfleet recruits may be stereotyped as brash, rebellious, and reckless; however, they are at least smart enough to know that they should partake in their ‘extracurricular’ activities without the Starfleet insignia slapped across their chest. You have to at least give them that.
You didn’t think twice when your roommate brought up the idea of going out to grab a few drinks. You had just spent the last week cramming for your final examinations and had no time to do anything that vaguely resembled the idea of ‘fun’. It was basically ‘eat, study, sleep, repeat’ for a week straight. But now, you are done -- for a few weeks until another semester rolls around and you’re back to your normal routine. Nonetheless, all you want to do tonight is have a few drinks with your roommate, reminisce about your past shenanigans over the course of this semester, dance to a few songs that you most likely don’t know the name of, and happily collapse in your bed back at the Academy at an obscene hour.
Your attention wanders to your phone which is currently lighting up on the counter. Your lips curve into a small smile as you read the caller ID that flashes across the screen: ‘Mom’. You lean into your roommate in an attempt to make it easier for your voice to be heard over the various conversations being had and the music blaring from the bar’s overhead speakers.
“I have to step out for a second. Are you okay on your own?”
You feel her nod before responding.
“You’re not my babysitter.”
You know that the comment is just a light-hearted jab. She raises both of her eyebrows at you, almost challenging you to respond. You simply stick your tongue out at the girl which makes her break into laughter. Your concern may make you come off as overprotective; however, you can’t help it. You know your roommate well at this point -- very well. She’s had a few drinks which means she’s more bubbly than usual and she easily gets awestruck at any fresh recruit with ‘pretty eyes’. That’s how you’ve found yourself sleeping on the sofa in the common area of your dormitory on multiple occasions. You’d have no problem with her pursuit of these young men if they actually made her happy, however, a large percentage of the Starfleet recruits aren’t looking for anything too permanent which more times than not leaves her heartbroken. You are always there with junk food, packages of tissues, and a shoulder to cry on, but for once you’d like her to meet a boy that actually cares about her for longer than a week.
The doors aren’t that far from your original spot at the bar; however, you have to bob and weave your way through the crowd. This makes your journey to the door much longer than you had first anticipated and you’re forced to answer the call while you’re still attempting to make your way outside.
“Hello?”
You raise your voice so that your mother can hear you. Your eyebrows furrow as you attempt to decipher the soft mumbling you can hear from the other end. Though most of what your mother says gets swept away in the surrounding ruckus, you’re able to just make out her last question:
“Where are you?”
“Hold on a second.”
You slide past the last patron who stood between you and the doors. Pushing forward, you are finally just outside of the bar. The cool night breeze feels like heaven against your skin. You weren’t aware of how warm it is inside until right now. Honestly, the thought of actually venturing on the decently long walk back to your room immediately crosses your mind, but two things are stopping you:
Your roommate is still inside enjoying herself and you know she’s not even close to being ready to head back to the Academy yet.
You’re wearing one of your favorite pairs of shoes that you don’t often get to wear because they aren’t exactly what you’d call ‘comfortable’ and your feet are already beginning to hurt -- walking back would certainly be a death sentence.
You answer the phone again and tell your mother that you’re currently out celebrating. The two of you chat for a few minutes about how your exams went and what you planned on doing in between semesters -- she, once again, reminds you that you could come home and visit her during the break and you, once again, tell her that you’ll think about it. The conversation ends quickly and now you can fully enjoy the lack of noise. The thought of going back into the stuffy building almost makes you groan, but you don’t want to keep your roommate waiting alone for too long.
You enter the bar once again and immediately roll your eyes at what you see: your roommate sipping on a new drink and flirting with some new, hotshot recruit. She’s giggling at something he’s said and he leans even closer to her.
Yeah, you guys definitely aren’t going anywhere soon.
“Not your babysitter, my ass.”
You weave your way through the crowd once again and find a new place at the bar. It isn’t long before another body settles next to you. He props his arms up on the counter, allowing him to lean into the bar. You glance over at the man, taking in his appearance. He seems to be a few years older than you, but still young enough to be a recruit. His hair is messy -- not an unkempt kind of messy, but the type of messy that practically begs you to run your hands through it. Dark facial hair accompanies his jawline, matching his brown, almost black hair -- it’s not enough to be intrusive but it’s still very present, you’d even consider calling it ‘tasteful’. He stands a good half foot taller than you and he’s far from what you’d call ‘scrawny’. You aren’t dumb, he’s obviously handsome.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Although the man presents himself in a way that led you to assume that he’s from an urban background, there’s a slight twang to his voice. The way he dresses comes off as gruff city boy, but his voice tells a different story. It’s not thick enough for you to call it an accent, but you’d definitely characterize it as a southern ‘drawl’.
“Sorry cowboy, but the whole ‘southern charm’ schtick doesn’t work on this lady.”
You expect him to simply walk away, possibly grumble for a second. Instead, you find yourself surprised when the man’s chest rumbles with laughter. You glance at him once again. Your breath gets trapped in your chest as your eyes meet his. This must be what your roommate has meant all those times she’s gushed to you about bright-eyed boys. You never quite understood her fascination, but you must admit that you can picture yourself gushing over his eyes in the backseat of the cab during the drive back.
“Let’s call it ‘southern hospitality’ then.”
He’s grinning at you and you can’t help but smile back. He’s charismatic and witty and that’s dangerous -- especially for you.
“And let’s call it an apology for him.”
He points a finger toward the end of the bar as he continues speaking. Your eyes follow in that direction, landing on your roommate and the man she is still flirting with. You erupt in laughter as you now realize that this must be as normal for him as it is for you.
“As much as I’d like to accept your apology, I should probably apologize for her as well. I think both parties are at fault here.”
“Gotta love ‘em though, right?”
“Most days.”
He chuckles at your words and shifts his body so that his body is now facing yours, allowing his demeanor to become friendlier. You hate to admit it, but the man seems different. And you suppose that you wouldn’t entirely loathe having him around right now. So, you mimic his actions and shift your body to face his, your demeanor matching his.
He introduces himself as Leonard and you allow him to buy you that drink.