Ashe had never been so completely out of his element. The sweet, soft-spoken silverette was a fish out of water. No, a fish out of water would have been more at home than the slight teacher was, sitting in a corner booth at a noisy nightclub while his friends grinded against each other on the dance floor.
Sighing, the silverette glanced down at the bottle of beer in his hand. It wasn’t the brand he drank, the only brand he thought didn’t taste like piss, but his friends hadn’t given him a choice. Funny, how the night was about what they wanted, when it was his twenty-third birthday. All he wanted to do was go home, and celebrate the way he always did- with a cake made from his mother’s recipe, his cat curled up on the couch next to him while he read whatever book he bought as a present for himself.
But they’d insisted. Even though he hadn’t talked to some of them since they graduated high school, they forced him to go out. Something about celebrating him being back in his home town. Even though it had been more than six months since he’d been back. And had better things to be doing on the last day of December than sit in a nightclub.
An irritated sigh pushed past Ashe’s lips, and he ducked his head. Staring at the amber liquid in the glass bottle, he made a decision; if he was going to be forced to stay there, he was going to find some way to enjoy himself. Unfortunately, it was going to take more than beer for that. So he slid out of the booth, skirting around the flailing, sweaty people on the dance floor, making a beeline for the bar.
There was, or course, a crowd of people around the bar- Ashe had been to enough bars to expect that. But he hadn’t expected quite so many people. Already irritated, he decided to take his chances shoving his way up to the front. He was halfway there when he froze, his eyes going wide as he heard something he had never imagined to hear in a place like that.
“Watch carefully, now, and you’ll see something amazing.”
The familiar purr in the velvet voice couldn’t have been mistaken. Ashe pushed forward a few more people, and found himself pressed against the front of the bar. His jaw dropped as he looked up the glittering bartender who was the reason for the ridiculous crowd.
Cormac’s smile was wide, but his eyes glimmered, making him look mischievous as he expertly spun a bottle. His hair was tied in a low, loose ponytail with a lacy white ribbon, and had been doused with the same glitter that shone on his skin. It flashed on his bare chest, that glitter, as he tossed that bottle into the air. More than just a bartender, then- a mixologist, trained in those flashy tricks and making drinks with expert skill.
Ashe stared with his eyes grown to twice the normal size as Cormac spun and caught and threw the bottles in dazzling arches, making drinks lightning fast while giving the crowd a show in his tight leather pants. He’d seen the teacher look mouthwateringly attractive, but never had he seen Cormac dressed to stir the libidos of everybody in the nightclub- including the innocent younger silverette.
The sound of shattering glass distracted Ashe from his awestruck stare, and he found himself caught in a pair of horrified green eyes. Cormac’s mouth opened and closed as he stared back at the other teacher, terrified; his job as a teacher would be ruined if anybody found out about what he did at night.
Somebody shouted at Cormac about the three bottles of alcohol he’d dropped, the source of the shattering sound. He shouted back something that sounded like nonsense to Ashe, and vanished behind the counter- wiping up his spill. He hissed with pain when he cut his hand, but swept all the glass into the trash can and wiped up the hundred dollars of alcohol on the floor. When he looked up, there was a new bartender waiting to take his place; not a mixologist, and the crowd was already dissolving, but it was clear Cormac was being forced to take his break.
He made a beeline for the bathroom, holding his bleeding hand close to his bare chest so it wouldn’t drip on the floor. Swearing mildly, he knocked the door open with his hip. He was able to let go of his hand, freeing it to leak liquid red, when he held it over the sink. Turning the cold water on full blast and shoving the injured hand underneath it. A sigh of relief fell from his lips as it numbed the pain and washed away the blood and bits of glass.
“Cormac King.”
Cormac jerked, cursing when it slammed his injured hand against the faucet. Pissed, he turned a lethal glare on the person who had barged into the bathroom- and blanched. “A-Ashe!” he stammered his fellow teacher’s name, pressing his back against the sink, his hand dripping watered down blood.
Ashe clucked his tongue at him, striding across the bathroom and grabbing his wrist. Cormac opened his mouth to protest, but icy blue eyes froze the words in his mouth. So he meekly allowed Ashe to thrust his hand back into the water, and watched in silence as Ashe tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt to neatly tie up the wounded hand as best he could.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Cormac mumbled.
Ashe glare at him again. “It’s my fault you broke the bottles.”
“I meant tear your shirt,” Cormac corrected, a faint smile playing at the edges of his mouth. “There’s a first aid kit on the wall.”
Ashe glanced sideways, color coming to his face as he saw the redhead was right. Shaking his head, he turned back to Cormac, a scowl fixing itself to his face. “What are you doing here, Mr. King?”
The emphasis on the name most students and teachers called him made him wince. “It’s… it’s my night job,” he stammered. Then his defenses rose, his posture straightening, and he returned Ashe’s glare with one of his own. “And if you fucking tell anybody about what I do, I swear to god I will ruin your life.”
“What?” By god, he actually looked hurt, bottom lip quivering as he backed away. “I.. I w-would never do that!” Ashe protested, hands thrown up as if to defend himself from an assailant.
“But…. Ashe wait!” Cormac’s outstretched hand did nothing to stop the silverette from fleeing the bathroom. He tried to follow, but it was too easy for the short, slender man to lose himself in the crowd. Cormac started to forge through it, but the bartender who’d taken over for him shouted for his help, and his employer’s glare said he’d lose his job if he didn’t take over again.
So he didn’t follow, and Ashe’s hurt grew. He sat back hard in his seat in the corner, his mood worse than ever. “He could have at least tried to apologize,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Stop sulking! What kind of birthday party is this?” His ‘sulking’ was interrupted by one of his friends throwing her arm around his shoulders, blowing her alcohol heavy breath in his face.
Ashe wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sulking, I’m just not drunk enough to enjoy myself.”
“We can fix that!” she crowed in his ear, making him wince.
He plastered an eager smile on his face, and his friends were more than happy to keep running to the bar for him, returning with drink after drink. It didn’t take long, with Ashe’s low tolerance for alcohol, for him to be drunk- and they didn’t stop then. He was trashed, and they were still bringing him drinks. Somebody took his keys, but didn’t stop him from dancing with a particularly cute brunette whose charming smile made his heart jump- and whose green eyes reminded him of a certain someone.
They left while he was distracted; the matchmakers thought they’d do him good by leaving him to have a one-night-stand. “Look, I don’t want to go home with you,” Ashe slurred to the attractive brunette, trying to wrench his arm out of the other man’s, and giggling when it made him stumble.
“Aw c’mon, babe. I’ll make you feel great,” the brunette drawled, tugging him toward the door again.
Ashe stumbled along after him, a frown somehow finding its way to his face. “Look, man, I said no.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” the brunette replied, dragging Ashe out the door with him.
That was enough for the alarm to start creeping past Ashe’s drunken haze. “Hey! I said no!” he said, yelping as he was tugged entirely off balance, wheeled into the waiting pair of arms.
“You know you want this as bad as I do,” the brunette purred in his ear.
“I know he said no, and if you don’t let go of him, I’ll kick your ass again, Brett.”
The growling voice was familiar to both of the drunken men, and they looked sideways to see Cormac looming over them with his arms crossed over his chest. The glitter still threw back light, but there was less of it than before, and his hair was loose to swirl around his waist as he scowled.
However Brett the brunette knew Cormac, those words were enough to have him reeling away from Ashe, rushing an almost unintelligible apology. “Just go,” Cormac growled in response, and Brett was down the street before Ashe had time to blink.
“Are you okay?” Cormac put a hand on Ashe’s shoulder.
Ashe looked up at him, his eyes wide and an innocent smile on his face. “My knight in shining… glitter…” he giggled, poking at a spot of glitter on Cormac’s chest. His hand splayed out against the warm skin, making Cormac’s breath catch. Then a frown crossed his face, and he pulled away just as suddenly as he’d touched the redhead. Cormac’s jaw dropped when Ashe turned on a heel and started to stumble away, weaving drunkenly across the sidewalk with a determined expression.
“Hey!” It was easy for Cormac to catch up, spinning Ashe around to face him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Leggo,” Ashe demanded, trying to shake free.
Cormac had to catch him when the quick motion made the silverette reel. Tugging Ashe forward so the smaller man fetched up against him, those damn fox ears crooked on his head, he made sure the silverette wouldn’t fall and break his face. “I’m just trying to help! Why are you acting like this?”
“I’m still mad at you,” Ashe replied, sticking a finger in Cormac’s face.
Cormac was sorely tempted to nip at it, to show Ashe he wasn’t a harmless pet, but he restrained himself because he doubted Ashe was sober enough to say no to him if he wanted to. “Mad for what?” he asked instead, exasperated.
“You- you thought I’d snitch on you. Bastard,” he sniffed; despite his anger, his head dropped, until it lay against Cormac’s chest. He could hear the redhead’s heart beating hard, and it made him smile, laughing quietly against the taller man’s skin.
Cormac closed his eyes, his hands in fists against Ashe’s back. It was going to take everything he had to resist that man, when he was leaning so innocently against him, like it wasn’t blatantly obvious by looking at Cormac’s tight leather pants what that silverette was doing to him. “I’m sorry, Ashe. I didn’t really think you’d run to the dean. I just reacted.”
“You damn well better be sorry,” Ashe said, pulling back and giving Cormac a fierce expression that made Cormac want to kiss him all the more. “I’ll never forgive you if you make me hate you.”
Cormac chuckled at his little silverette, shaking his head. “I promise I won’t make you hate me then.”
“Good,” Ashe said firmly, pushing against Cormac’s chest and making the redhead laugh again. Then his face went blank, and he mumbled, “Cormac?”
“Yeah?” Cormac leaned closer to the silverette.
“I think I’m going to pass out now,” he whispered in his taller companion’s ear.
It was just enough warning for Cormac to tighten his arms around the silverette before Ashe collapsed against him. “Lights out,” Cormac laughed softly, unsurprised; Ashe had been obviously trashed, and it was a miracle the silverette had lasted that long. Sweeping the silverette up into his arms, he walked carefully slowly to his car, buckling him into the passenger seat.
There was a moment where all he could do was watch Ashe. He looked so peaceful and innocent when he was asleep, glitter marking the side of his face that had rested against Cormac’s chest, the fox ears still crooked. Cormac reached out to set them straight, smiling softly at the younger teacher who was suddenly in his care. Then he got in the driver’s seat, and took Ashe to the safest place he knew where the silverette could spend the night: his apartment.
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