Chapter Text
It’s been a long and kind of awful day.
The fountain was screwing up earlier so making cocktails behind the bar wasn’t great. You had to run to the back and dig around the breakroom for soda cans to make the drinks until the fountain decided it wanted to work again. Or until your coworker Andy finally smashed the bloody think to make the manager finally buy a new one.
Then there’s the one customer who comes in and almost always asks for you to serve him. He talked your ear off during one of the busiest hours and forget about a tip. He always writes his number on the receipt anyway even though he could be the age of your father. Not to mention his leery gaze that followed you almost always.
And to top it all off, the band that is booked for tonight is already extremely late. So much so the girls who came for the show are already way more plastered than normal. To be fair, you also were kind of excited for the band that was playing too. It’s why you even picked up the shift to begin with.
You’re wiping off the counter and looking over at the small dodgy stage the pub has in the corner. You’re honestly surprised the thing hasn’t collapsed in on itself. You’ve seen the owner more than once attempt to fix it himself and he wasn’t the best handyman.
The stage wasn’t fully empty like it was about thirty or so minutes ago. It has a couple of instruments set up already for the band. You must have missed them coming in the back and Lars, the doorman, set up.
You feel someone bump your hip playfully, and you look over to see your coworker, Andy, raising a brow at you.
“Why don’t you wrap up? You were supposed to get off for the show anyway, right? Aren’t you meeting your friends?” Andy asks, smiling brightly at you.
You shrug looking around the bar, “Well the show was supposed to start and hour ago and I don’t even think they've walked in yet.” You can’t see a single one of your friends in the crowded pub at all.
“Go on, grab a good spot at the front. I got it back here.” Andy encourages.
You roll your eyes and keep cleaning, “Well just let me finish cleaning and I’ll go alright? I really don’t want to stand at the front and my friends get stuck in the back.”
“You might want to snag that front row spot now. You know half of the girls here are already buzzin’. They’ve been drinking for the past hour looking for a shot of courage.” Andy says laughing.
You nudge her, trying to stop yourself from laughing, “Stop, Andy! Leave them alone, they’re barely old enough to get in. They just want to see some hot musicians.”
“Who’s gonna tell them that most of the musicians are indeed, not hot, when they do small pub shows like us?” Andy says starting to pop open a beer for a customer.
“Oh, come off it- apparently this band does shows everywhere. Pretty good too, at least that's what my friends say.” You retort handing Andy another beer for the same group.
“You better clock out, you’ll miss your window to not be trapped back here.” Andy says pointing to the ever-growing crowd that’s forming around the bar.
“You sure your good back here?” You ask already stepping towards the back of the bar to escape.
Andy laughs and waves you off, “Have fun, don’t let the girls run you over!”
You give a loud laugh before quickly dodging around the bar to go grab your bag and change. You brought some spare clothes to actually go out in, because you were not about to be in your gross jeans, tee shirt, and beer-covered, no slip, shoes.
In the back of the pub there's a small office that usually hosts the manager on duty or sometimes the owner. There was also a much nicer employee bathroom that wasn’t sticky.
You go in and pull a slip dress out and easily slide it on. Theres a pair of boots and some loose jewelry at the bottom of your backpack. You struggle a bit untangling your accessories but besides that you’re good to go. You shove your other clothes into your backpack. Once you're done, you double check your hair, to make sure it’s as passable as it’s going to be. You mess with it for a few minutes too long before you shrug and give up. It’s a punk show it doesn’t matter if you look nice.
You keep your backpack in the back with Andy’s belongings before walking back out to the dark smokey pub. You still can’t find your friends as you wade through a decently sized crowd. You make it to the front and still don’t seem to see anyone you know. You reach for your phone to see that your friends had all cancelled at the last minute. You bristle in irritation and groan. You turn to try to leave, but the crowd has gotten thicker within the last few minutes. You’re stuck. You feel your eye twitch in irritation before you're jostled into someone. The stranger grabs your waist, and you whip around smacking the hands off of you.
“Hands off!” You growl looking up at the stranger who grabbed you. He throws his hands up in defense, but his grin says he’s a sleaze.
You hold your glare taking a step back.
“You bumped into me sweetie.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you.
You frown and feel the urge to stomp on this man’s foot, “Doesn’t mean you get handsy with me.” You mutter, turning back to the stage.
The pubs lights dim slightly, the sad stage lights flickering on with the buzz of a florescence. Lars, the main bouncer, comes around to push the front of the crowd back a bit.
You turn to look behind you and it’s a sea of people now. There was no way you could get out, not without Lars helping you, but he had a job to do. Your nerves settle a bit knowing that at least your friend is so close, and he’d help you if you really needed it.
Another beat passes before the band comes out on the stage, and you decide to try and have fun. You did want to see this band too, even if your friends bailed on you.
You feel someone sidle up close to your side, pressing into you actually. You swiftly turn to look and see the same man from before smiling down at you. Theres a sense of danger prickling at your skin, but you know Lars can see you.
“Back up.” You hiss shoving him away. “I don’t play whatever game this is.”
“C’mon, not a big deal, it’s a massive crowd here. It’s tight is all.” He says slurring his words together. He tries to play it off like an accident and it irritates you even more.
You glower at him and jam a finger into his chest, “Do not fucking touch me again.”
The guy takes a step back but is still looking at you in a predatory way that makes your skin crawl. You turn away from him and see Lars looking at you expectantly. You give him a small thumbs up that you’re okay, but you do try to shuffle closer towards Lars and away from the man.
The band starts and you almost forget about the man who’s been far too handsy with you. The loud booming bass shakes the floor, and the crowd jumping feels electric. The music’s better than you thought and you can’t believe your friends are missing out. You’re dancing and taking a video to send to them when the fun suddenly stops.
The man from before had followed after you and he was fondling your bum. It only takes a second for you to recognize what’s happening before you turn and slap him across the face.
“I said do not fucking touch me!” You shout, taking a step back. The music’s far too loud and the lights are almost blinding you now. Your body is hot with rage and adrenaline; you try to look for Lars, but the man grabs a hold of your arm dragging you back toward him.
“C’mon I know a slag like you when I see one,” He starts to say, mouth too close to your face. All you can smell is the obscene amount of booze on his breath telling you he’s sloshed.
You reel back your free arm; hand curled into a fist ready to hit him again. Before you can deck the drunk, someone else does it for you.
Combat boots fly by, and your eyes widen as you see the guitarist drop kick the guy who’s been handsy with you all night.
Your jaw falls open in shock as the guitarist lands perfectly fine in front of you. His guitar strapped to his back is all you see as he stands between you and the man he just sent to the floor. For the first time in quite a long time, you are stunned speechless.
“Mate, I don’t know who raised ya, but we don’t touch people without consent at my shows.” The guitarist says, voice deep and his face hard as he glares at the man on the ground.
The man tries to crawl off the ground, the crowd around them parting to see what’s happening.
“She’s with me man! What’s your problem?” the man tries to defend himself pointing at you.
Your short fuse continues to be lit. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but the guitarist responds first.
He nudges his head back toward you and gives a bitter laugh, “Ya need a better lie cause she’s with me.” He tells him.
You close your mouth, looking at him like he’s mad for only a second. You most certainly are not with him. You look at the man on the ground and grimace, but you sure as hell will act like you’ve known this guitarist your whole life. You’d rather not spend the rest of the night with some creep touching and grinding on you.
The man’s face pales, “Sorry, sorry!” He stumbles over his feet to stand up. He throws his hands up in defense laughing, “Didn’t know she was yours!”
The guitarist shakes his head and crosses his arms tsking at the man. “Wooooooooow,” he drags out exaggeratedly. “She doesn’t belong to anyone.” He says giving a small chuckle.
The other guy is looking at him, a little afraid, as he tries to laugh along with him. The guitarist quickly stops chuckling and throws a quick but hard punch to the creep’s face.
“Apologize to her.” The guitarist demands, his voice comes out cold with a hard edge.
The drunk man is holding his face when he looks at you. His eyes filled with fear, “M’sorry alright! I won’t touch you again I swear!” He shouts, rushing through his words.
The guitarists steps forward and leans down to be eye level, “For the record, it shouldn’t take me lying about us being a couple for ya to respect her.”
The second the guitarist steps away, you see Lars plow though the crow to drag the man out. He’s drunk and tries to struggle against Lars, but instead kind of looks like a toddler thrashing around in their parent's arms. Lars was the bouncer for a reason, the man was huge, and he didn’t play about his coworkers.
“You alright?” The guitarist turns to face you. His voice lowers to a much gentler tone.
You’re still taken aback and stunned. You nod your head slowly, “Um, yeah-yeah. Thanks.” You mumble.
“No problem.” He grins and gives your shoulder a reassuring pat before he jumps back on the stage.
You’re more than a little flustered and what just happened. You turn to see the crowd has closed in again, ready to listen to the band perform. There’s some mumbling around you and a few strangers ask if you’re okay.
“Sorry for the delay there, but a not so friendly reminder, don’t act like a prick and touch people without consent ya? You will not be escorted out without a black eye.” One of the other band members says addressing the crowd.
The crowd roars loudly as they start another song. You can really only laugh and just roll with it. The whole show you end up making intensely too much eye contact with the tall guitarist who saved you. His wicks frame his face as he plays his guitar and sings with his band members. Acting like it was just a normal night for him.
By the time the show is over, you can wiggle yourself out with the help of Lars. A lot of the crowd stays, still high off the show and wanting to talk to the band. Their energy is buzzing with adrenaline.
“Thanks Lars.” You say as he walks you toward the back where your stuff is still located.
You smack his chest lightly and start giggling. “Hey, maybe we should hire that guy when people get handsy with the staff.” You tease the man.
Lars rolls his eyes, “Oh piss off.” He holds the door open for you, “I was gonna throw him out after you clocked him but, well, I didn’t have to.” He laughs with a simple shrug.
“Seriously though,” You pause, turning to him. “thanks for taking the guy out.”
He shakes his head, “It’s my job. Nobody messes with my staff.” He reassures you. He then steps back out into the main space to help pack up the band’s equipment.
“Oi! Hey,” The guitarist from before comes up to Lars, “Is that girl here? The one who had that prick touch her? I wanted to talk to her.” He asks the bouncer.
Lars crosses his arms and looks over him curiously raising a brow, “No mate she just left.”
“Was she good? I just wanted to check on her.” The guitarist replies shoving his hands in his vest pockets.
“Oh, I promise she’s fine, takes a lot more than that to shake her.” Lars chuckles. “She once threw a lad out herself easily. She can win a bar fight any night.”
“Good, good. Thanks.” The guitarist nods in approval. He starts to walk back towards his band, who’s packing up the last of their stuff.
He keeps the name of the pub at the back of his head. Just in case.
A few weeks pass and you’re behind the bar working on making a few drinks. It’s not super busy tonight and it’s mostly a lot of regulars. You’re pouring a beer when someone, quite loudly, plops themselves down on the bar stool in front of you.
“I’ll be right with you love.” You say turning to the other end to pass the beer to the customer.
You finally turn back to the new face and you pause for a moment, seeing the guitarist from the show a few weeks back.
“Hey stranger.” He greets cheekily, leaning into the bar top.
You smile with a soft laugh, “Welcome back. “What drags you back to my dingey little hole in the wall?” you tease.
He just shrugs nonchalantly, “Just wanted to pop in. See if there were any more handsy folk you might need taken care of.” he teases.
You scoff but bite back a smile, “Trust, I’m good. I was gonna clock him but…” you trail off giving him a pointed look, “You handled it just fine.”
“Oof, wish I had known. I woulda loved to see ya give him a mean right hook.” He chuckles.
You shake your head in disbelief, “Maybe next time.” You smile cheekily.
“Oh? Already planning the next time we’ll rock someone who’s being a sexist prick?” he smirks leaning closer to you on the bar top.
You let out a genuine laugh, it’s loud, and you snort a bit. “Absolutely.”
A beat of silence passes between you both before you decide it's time to get back to your job, “So, what can I get ya?”
“Your name preferably.” He replies easily, flashing a smile.
Genuine surprise flashes across your face and then a hot flush across your cheeks.
“Depends,” You fire back, teasingly. He raises his brow.
“I go by a lot of names.” You say in a playful tone as you grab a clean glass.
Something lights up in his eyes for a split second, “You’re real one would be preferred.”
“Mmmm, I don’t know, you are asking for my government name, and I don’t even have your first name.” You joke, tilting your head.
“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He tells you without giving it a second thought.
You bite your lip, hesitating, but cave under his warm eyes. You feel a pull towards this man, and maybe you’re just projecting because he stuck his neck out for you, but you feel pulled to him none the less.
You hesitate but give him your name.
He grins so big it could almost split his face, “I like it.” He tells you softly.
Your face warms up again and you turn to fill the glass you just picked up. “Cool...”