Work Text:
It wasn’t their usual place.
Isaac had wanted something quiet, cozy, a place that didn’t smell like spilled beer and bad decisions. River had wanted color - neon, glitter, something dramatic enough to match the way they dressed and moved. They'd compromised on a little speakeasy tucked just off Beacon Street. The lights were dim but not dreary, with mismatched velvet chairs and a crooked chandelier made from old wine bottles. The bartender wore eyeliner and suspenders. River called it a vibe. Isaac had agreed, if only because River’s fingers brushed the back of his hand under the table every time they laughed.
They were nursing their drinks: Isaac with something amber and respectable, River with a neon-blue monstrosity garnished with rock candy and edible flowers - when River’s gaze snapped over Isaac’s shoulder.
“Don’t look, but we’re being watched.”
Isaac immediately turned to look.
River groaned. “You’re so subtle.”
Two guys at the bar. One wore a backward cap and a grin too wide to be harmless. The other was built like someone who never missed leg day and had clearly never been told “no.” They were staring directly at River and Isaac, whispering to each other.
Isaac turned back. “What do you think they want?”
“Either a fight or a threesome,” River said, taking a slow sip of their candy-glass cocktail. “I’m too pretty for the first and too sober for the second.”
“You are very pretty,” Isaac murmured.
River blinked at him. “You keep saying that like you mean it.”
“I do mean it.” He looked down at the table, sheepish. “Even when your drink looks like a mermaid exploded in it.”
River grinned, amused and delighted. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Before Isaac could respond, footsteps approached. Confident ones. Predictable.
“Hey,” said the cap guy, flashing a grin with the easy charm of someone who’d never been rejected in his life. “We saw you from across the bar and—”
River held up a hand like a stop sign. “No.”
Cap Guy blinked. “Uh, sorry, what?”
“No,” River repeated with polite finality, voice like silk stretched over ice. “We’re not interested. We’re not available. We’re not anything that ends with you in our booth or your bed.”
Isaac blinked, then bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laugh that tried to escape. River was something else.
The other guy leaned forward slightly, undeterred. “You sure? You look like you could use a little… company.”
“I have excellent company,” River said, smiling wide as they dragged a black painted nail along Isaac’s forearm. “See? The best.”
Isaac glanced up just in time to catch the flicker of surprise in Cap Guy’s face. He didn’t know whether it was because River had turned them down so swiftly, or because Isaac - scarfed, quiet, respectable - was clearly the one River had chosen. Either way, the guys retreated, muttering something under their breath.
River watched them go, sipping from their glass with a little triumphant hum. “That was fun.”
Isaac exhaled slowly. “Was it?”
“Oh, yes. You looked like you were about to defend my honor. It was very chivalrous. I half-expected you to throw a glove and challenge them to a duel.”
“I was about to tell them to back off,” Isaac admitted.
“I know.” River tilted their head, their expression softening. “You didn’t have to. But it’s nice to know you would’ve.”
There was a pause between them. It stretched but didn’t feel uncomfortable. Isaac looked at River, their glitter-dusted collarbone, the tattoos peeking out from under their shirt, the way they leaned toward him like he was gravity.
“I’m still figuring this out,” Isaac said quietly.
River smiled. “Me too.”
“I don’t… go to bars much. And I’m not used to people like that hitting on me.”
“Well, they weren’t hitting on you, luv. They were hitting on us. We’re a matching set now.”
Isaac flushed but didn’t look away. “I like that.”
River reached over, fingers brushing his. “So do I.”
They sat like that, their drinks forgotten, the buzz of the bar fading into background static. River’s foot nudged Isaac’s under the table. He smiled.
And when the bartender swung by to offer another round, River waved them off with a simple, “We’re good.”
Because they were.
They were really good.