goldstargrrl

Saturday night was for the boys, or what your friends deemed ‘boys night’ some odd years ago when you were in university and the term managed to stick. What would typically consist of a night spent in someone’s living room splitting a joint and telling stories about the week has now turned into a bar crawl extravaganza. The girls’ best ‘going out tops’ have been donned, cash has been pulled out, and no responsibilities except locating the nearest Sunday brunch await you tomorrow. Some might say these are the conditions of a perfect night out, a rare opportunity that your group would be stupid to pass out.

You’re the first one in the door of the latest pub your friends have decided to wreak havoc on. A small, hole-in-the-wall, cash only spot that you hadn’t been to before. The walls were decorated in the usual garb; Guinness advertisements, some sports team’s greatest moments, pictures of the same place 50 years ago- the kind of place that remained the same no matter how much time passed.

One of your friends, Marianne, guided your group of 4 to a small booth in the corner of the establishment that was secluded enough to not have unwanted attention, but still within reach of the bar. You took your jacket off, then hung it and the three others on a coatrack closer to the door that began to open once again. This time a pair of men stepped across the threshold. You only caught a glimpse of them before you began moving back to the booth, but you looked over your shoulder once more to meet the eye of one of the men.

His hair was mostly dark, some gray hairs mixed with the volume, and he was tall. He was easily almost twice your age, but the glint in his eye was reminiscent of a teenager. The man offered a smile that you returned from over your shoulder before turning back to the booth with the tips of your ears burning.

“Who’s round is it?”

“What do they even have here?”

“Whatever’s cheapest!”

Your friends were already chatting. Piper had her phone out, always the responsible one taking note of who had bought what round. Standing at the edge of the table, you take your phone out as well, opening a new note.

“I think it’s mine,” You offer and Piper nods to confirm. You recorded the group’s orders then took your wallet and turned back to the bar. You spotted the man from earlier and his friend sat on stools there, the bartender working in front of them.

You turned back to your friends, running your hands through your hair in an effort to fix whatever imaginary thing was wrong with it.

“Do I look ok?” You asked, Marianne raised a brow then looked around at the rest of the patrons before her eyes landed on the two men behind you. She smirked then moved to the outer edge of the bench to adjust your top.

“You look great, those guys are so hot-” 

“Oh please they look like they could be old enough to be your dad.”

Your face warmed at Sonya’s comment, looking over your shoulder once more. 

“Oh leave her alone, go get ‘em,” Piper gave an encouraging smile before Marianne shooed you off in the direction, finally, of the bar.

You walked up to the space of counter next to the two men, pretending to not even notice them as you flagged down the bartender. You placed the order then outstretched your arm to hand the bartender cash. When you retracted your arm, your elbow collided with the dark, curly haired man’s shoulder. Immediately, almost rehearsed, your head whipped in his direction when he looked at you.

“Oh my goodness- I am so sorry,” Your eyes were wide and you placed your hand on the spot your elbow hit.

“Alright there?” The man asked, his smile from earlier returning. Upon closer inspection now you could see a particularly deep dimple in the right side of his face. His eyes, brown, and deeper than anything you’ve seen before.

“Hi,” You said, your voice softer than you meant for it to be. The man’s smile widened. 

“Hi,” he says back, the same softness but with a bit of grit you can’t quite place. You seemed to realize that you must’ve looked kind of stupid just standing there staring at the man because you move your hand away and look back at the bartender briefly, still working away on your friend’s complicated cocktails.

After a moment when you look back to the man you’re a bit more sure of yourself.

“I am so sorry about that, it’s been a long night,” You try to laugh off your nerves, the man doesn’t seem to catch on. He moves his arm, the one you hadn’t touched, to run through his dark curls.

“No worries at all, darling, do you want to sit?” The man nodded to the seat next to you. Before you could open your mouth to respond the bartender placed four glasses in front of you. Your spirits dampened slightly, but you couldn’t so much as touch your own glass before Marianne appeared next to you, taking the other three drinks.

“Looked like you could use a hand,” She whispered to you, bumping her hip with yours before she scurried back to the booth. You could kiss her, if you weren't actively trying to kiss the man next to you.

“Yeah- yes. I’ll sit.” You laugh again and pull the stool out at the bar to sit.

“So I imagine a girl like you is used to a more lively spot. What brings you to a place like this?” The man had rotated a bit to face you more. You took a sip of your drink, your liquid courage since this production was a rather… sobering affair.

“I mean- cheap beer, always an open table, the patrons aren’t too bad to look at either,” you didn’t know where this confidence was coming from but you were grateful for it.

“Oh is that so?” The man’s smile looked a little more mischievous now.

“Maybe,” You take another sip of your drink, looking at the man through your lashes. 

If you had told your past self that your night out on the town with the girls would result in hitting on a man twice your age at a bar you can’t even remember the name of- your past self probably would have laughed in your current self’s face. But then you introduce yourself and you learn that the man in front of you is James, and he’s the manager of a sports team he used to play on, and he is oh so lovely.

You learn more about the man in front of you, that his friend’s name is Sirius, and other miscellaneous small things like what his favorite end-of-the-night food is. When your drink is empty he buys you another one in exchange for some answers from you. You tell him about your new job in the field you majored in, that you grew up out of town, that you loved watching rugby. 

Time passes in a dizzying blur, when you laugh you lean forward a bit, when James laughs he puts a hand on your knee. You feel high, you feel like you want to run your hands through this 40-something’s hair and kiss him silly. You feel like you need to get control of yourself.

It doesn’t take long until the two of you are well acquainted with one another. So when James offers you a shared cigarette, you barely look back at your friends before you’re shrugging your jacket on and slipping through the door that James is holding open. The streets are quieter this time of night, so you and James move away from the windows and he leans against the brick wall of the building while he digs in his pockets.

“Reds okay?”

“Reds are great,” you didn’t know if ‘reds’ were anything special, and you tried to not make a habit out of your drunk cigarettes, but when they’re coming from someone that looks this good… you suppose you could suspend your rule.

James places the cigarette between his lips and holds the lighter out to you, offering it. Despite the chill, your neck grows warm and you take the lighter. You spark it, and hold it close to James’s face, his eyes are staring into yours as he inhales. You’re standing so close to him now, watching the glow of the flame illuminate his sun kissed skin. Then he pulls the cigarette away and you let the flame on the lighter die. You stand in front of James, the moon light and scattered street lamps softened the energy between the two of you.

You swallow before you speak, “So does Mrs.Potter know you’re out sharing cigarettes with young women?” Bold, but he was making you bold, daring you with his eyes, his words, his cadence.

“Very smooth,” James chuckles and passes the cigarette to you. You watch some of the remaining smoke come out of his nose, your mouth is dry. You take a drag anyway, tilting your head up to release the smoke.

“I’m just saying,” You continue, tapping the end of the cigarette to knock the ash off, “Handsome guy like you, so nice too- you must have,” you take another drag, “someone,” you breath the smoke out with your words. James is watching you, his arms are crossed now and his biceps are all you can think about. You find yourself taking a step closer to the man, the tips of your toes nearly touching.

“Do you always come to bars to hit on men twice your age?” James takes the cigarette back from you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Or is there some frat guy waiting at home?” James takes a drag, taps the ash off, then takes another one.

“Definitely no frat guy, I like guys with a little more experience, I guess.” You shrug, but the weight of your words is hanging heavy in the air. The wind picks up and you find yourself taking yet another step towards James, almost chest to chest with him now.

You meet his eye and hold him there for a moment, smiles adorning both of your faces. Now that you’re this close you can see the slight scruff of his beard and the small freckles spread across his face. You search his face for a moment, then stand up straighter, stepping even closer.

“Excuse me sir,” You bat your lashes at James, whose eyebrows have been drawn together in an entertained confusion. “I saw you from across the bar and I just had,” You pressed a hand against his shoulder, “to come over.” Your voice is soft by the time you’ve pressed yourself into the man’s side. James’ arm comes up to wind around your back, his hand resting on your hip.

“Did you?” James is even closer now and you become well aware of how full his lashes are. Creases on the corners of his eyes from years of good jokes. You nod in response, “I did.” You bring one of your hands up to the side of his neck, brushing your thumb along the corner of his jaw. James raises a brow, still full of amusement.

“So there’s,” You look down to his lips, not even trying to be subtle anymore, “no Mrs.Potter then?” You look back up to his eyes, his pupils blown wide.

“None at all,” James leans forward and you pull his face to meet yours, pressing your lips together. 

The first thing you notice upon kissing this mysterious man, is that he smells incredible. It’s overwhelming, yet natural and deep. The second thing you notice is that James is a very good kisser.

James lets you press him into the brick wall, pulling you along with him. Your bodies flush to one another as your mouths move nearly in sync with one another. Your other arm finds James’s waist and you pull away for air.

“Can I give you my number?” You whisper to him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. James looks slightly flustered but stands himself back up and takes out his phone. You hand him your and swipe into his contacts.

James finishes putting his contact in your phone and reaches around you to put the device back in your back pocket. You hand him his phone soon after. This time James leans down and presses another kiss to your lips and it takes everything in you to not let your knees buckle. This kiss is much shorter, but you manage to reach your hands up into his hair.

“Are you cold? Do you want to head inside?” James asks, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. Had he known you were the furthest thing from uncomfortable, he might have kissed you again. Instead he places a hand on your back and leads you back into the bar.

James’s friend from earlier is still sat at the bar, but on the phone this time. You look over to your booth of friends who look up from their phones in time to catch your eye and wave you over. You look up to James and pat his chest once before starting to walk backwards towards your friends’ booth. Before you turn around, you mimic a phone with your hand and mouth 'call me'.

When you reach your abandoned table, Marianne is immediately pulling you down into conversation. The girls must’ve been ready to go for a while now. If you weren’t floating on cloud nine you’d feel bad for holding up the night. But even Piper seems interested when you divulge a few details of your encounter with one Mr. James Potter. You keep the secret kisses to yourself, and try not to smile too hard when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. When you look over to the spot where James and his friend had sat, it was now empty.

After only another five minutes of chatting your friends decide it’s time to call an end to the night, claiming their beds were calling for them from across the city. You laugh and leave along with them, looking back briefly at the piece of wall you and James had occupied not even an hour ago and feel a tightness in your chest at the thought of seeing him again.

is this cringe? please say no.

please do not repost my work anywhere else.

It's been two months.

Two entire months of dark, overcast skies, and below freezing temperatures. The ground that Barty's car passes over is covered by a thin layer of frost, some piles of snow collected along the shoulder of the road. He’s been driving for the better part of the day, and now drums his fingers along his steering wheel as he finally enters the college town he was so eager to get out of right before the holidays. The sign greets him like an old friend, ‘Welcome!’ it reads. Barty straightens his sore back, a pit in his stomach taking place and eating the boy from the inside out in anticipation.

Music hums softly in the background as Barty turns left. Calls and texts are nice- hell, even Evan took some time to come visit him, but nothing compares to the real thing. Two months is far too long, in Barty’s opinion, to be without his usual band of hooligans. The weeks spent in the quiet corridors of his parent’s manor didn’t stand a single chance against slytherin hall’s bi-weekly parties or the campus cafe’s ambient open mic nights.

At the thought of the cafe, his heart jumps and the anticipation in Barty’s stomach seems to spread throughout his chest. His phone vibrates on the passenger seat next to him, probably a message from Regulus. The phone vibrates again and immediately Barty knows it’s you. As much as he loves his prickly comrade, Regulus has never been one to text more than once. 

You, however.

Barty finally pulls into his spot on the campus parking lot, making quick work of grabbing his phone, wallet, keys, shrugging on his thick leather coat and stepping out into the cold. The breath Barty lets out materializes in front of him while he locks his car and gives the campus a once-over. He wasn’t expecting anything to have changed in two months, and the never changing brick buildings provided a bit of solace as the trek to the cafe began.

Barty looks down at his phone while he walks.

Reg !!: Are you almost here? We got a table.

Batz : yea almost there, maybe 15 min

Dora : !!! see you soon !!!

You : bat hurry up

You : bartemius if you are not here in the next 5 minutes i’m sending a search party

Barty smiles at the message, but doesn’t respond and instead quickens his pace. He shoves his hands in his pockets and continues to glance around him. Only a few people are scattered outside, most making their way inside to escape the violent chill in the air. The sky is already getting darker, the wind is biting at Barty’s nose and cheeks more than it had been this morning when his journey began.

The campus’s cafe, Drip, comes into view and it takes every ounce of Barty’s self control to not break into a sprint. As he draws closer, Barty sees Evan standing outside, a cigarette between his lips. Barty’s face hurts when he smiles.

“There he is!” Evan snuffs out the cigarette and hugs Barty when he reaches the door.

“Good to see you Rosie.” Barty pats Evan’s back once then pulls back from the embrace.

“How was the drive?” Evan pulls his scarf tighter around his neck, the cold beginning to seep through the fabric. Barty shrugs, “Same old- long, boring. Do you want to head inside?” Barty doesn’t mean to seem short with his friend, but the pit once in the bottom of his stomach has somehow replaced his heart and then leapt into his throat when he spotted the back of Pandora’s head through the window. Evan raises a brow, a knowing look appearing on his face that Barty chooses to ignore.

“Yeah ‘course.”

The two boys make their way inside, squeezing between other tables and chairs and people until they finally reach a small booth in the corner.

“Look who I found out on the streets,” Evan reaches for his abandoned coffee cup as Pandora leaps up to pull Barty into a hug.

“It’s about time! I feel like that drive gets longer every year.” Pandora pulls back and takes Barty’s hands in hers, “This semester is going to be the best one yet.” While a hopeful sentiment, Pandora seems completely determined that it’s true.

“Where-” Barty is interrupted by a gasp. The boy turns and finds you frozen in your spot walking back from what Barty assumes to be the bathroom.

“Bartemius!” You shout, taking a running start and jumping into Barty’s arms.

Barty smiles and catches your embrace, lifting you up and spinning you around in place. Your legs are flailing and you break into laughter. Once Barty places you down, you don’t let go of your hold around his shoulders, and he makes no move to release your waist.

The last of the chill from outside escapes Barty’s bones when you finally look into his eyes. Still pressed tightly against his chest, you smile up at him. Finally you move one of your hands, but only to brush some of his wild hair–likely blown out of control by the wind–out of his face. 

“I missed you.” Your words completely take the air out of him, but somehow he still finds the strength to respond, “Me too.” It’s all he says, but to be fair it’s all he can bring himself to say.

Someone clears their throat at the table and you look away from Barty, averting your eyes to your friends.

“Did you want us to leave or-” Regulus trails off, stirring his tea. You step back from Barty, your hands dropping back down to your sides. The back of Barty’s neck grows warm and he shrugs his hands back into his pockets. A wicked grin forms on his face, replacing the tender look he had shared with you.

“Aw Reggie, if you wanted my attention you could have just said so,” Barty slides into the booth next to Regulus, pulling him into a side hug. As much as he protests, Barty knows that Regulus missed their friends just as much as he did.

You don’t immediately sit down next to Barty like he was expecting, instead having Pandora pass you your phone and heading to the counter.

“So how were your holidays?”

Pandora sparks the conversation, and Barty does his best to follow along and respond when prompted, but he keeps looking over to the counter. You were waiting at the other end to pick up whatever you had ordered and were seemingly chatting with one of your professors from last semester.

“Earth to Bartemius? Are you with us?” Evan leans across the table and waves his hand in front of Barty’s eyes. Barty turns back to the table to find Regulus examining him with a brow raised and Pandora grinning like a madman.

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just weird being back.” Barty shrugs, and pulls off his jacket.

“Right…” Regulus trails. Before he’s able to say anything else, you come bounding back to the table, placing two mugs on the table, sliding one closer to Barty.

“You still take it the same way, right?” You ask, sitting next to the boy. Barty just nods and looks down at the ceramic mug, then to yours.

Your leg presses against Barty’s under the table, his arm is slung around the back of the bench, circling your shoulders. It’s natural, the way you two fit together. When you reach an arm out to the end of the table and can’t quite reach, Barty grabs two sweetener packets and passes them to you. When Barty laughs and places his mug down a bit too haphazardly, you’re already there with napkins for the spill.

Your friends watch the way you push and pull each other like waves, anticipating each other’s next move. Pandora looks to her brother with a knowing look in her eye when it’s your turn to laugh and all Barty can do is watch. Regulus rolls his eyes when yours and Barty’s hands brush against each other on the table and the two of you jump away from one another. It only lasts a moment though before you’ve found yourself re-settled into Barty’s side.

The January sun sets outside, and people gradually begin filing out of the cafe until it’s just your fivesome in the corner booth.

“When Dorcas gets back we have to go for a night out.” Pandora declares, pulling out her planner where she has intricately detailed her plans for the next month. You nod, your grin a seemingly permanent fixture on your face.

The conversation carries on until the closing barista shoos the five of you out the door. Evan pulls out a cigarette, offering the box to Barty who takes one. You all find yourselves walking around the campus grounds, talking about your plans for the semester.

“I think I want to join another society,” You voice, looking up at the cloudy night sky. Pandora nods beside you.

“Me too, I’m thinking about…” Pandora carries on, her chatter filling the silence. Eventually Evan and Pandora split off for the night, leaving you Barty and Regulus on your own near one of the library buildings. It doesn’t take long for Regulus to depart as well.

“I think this semester is going to be really good.” You mutter, your head leaning against Barty’s shoulder. The two of you are sitting on a bench along one of the walkways in the courtyard. The wind nips your nose, and the cold of the bench spreads through Barty’s body, but neither of you make any attempt to move.

“That’s what Pandora was saying,” Barty says, barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to be his larger than life self around you, he never felt like he had to make any extra effort for you to hear him, for you to see him. 

“Well, then it’s bound to be true if our very own prophet says so.” You laugh, looking down at your feet. You swing your legs a bit, a poor attempt to create some kind of warmth. Barty smiles next to you, then flinches when the wind decides to pick up.

“We should head inside, I’ll walk you back to your building.” Barty stands and holds a hand out to pull you up off the bench.

You tell Barty about your holiday break as you walk. How your mother made you wear the most horrid sweater for the family dinner, how you had to sleep on the couch in the living room when your cousins came to visit. Barty listens, adding one of his thoughts every now and then. Usually full of energy, on any other day Barty would probably be pushing for your group to hit the town tonight.

But tonight Barty’s bones are groaning as he walks. His back is still sore from the drive, and his hand is still holding yours as you walk. He thinks you don’t notice, that this doesn’t mean anything other than you forgot to let go. But you squeeze Barty’s hand when you reach your building, and all of the sudden Barty is wishing that the wind would pick up again to cool him down.

“I’m glad you’re back, Barty.” You stand in front of the boy, your hand gripping his like your life depends on it. Barty searches your face and smiles warmly.

“Me too. That you’re back. I mean I’m also glad that I’m back, but I’m glad you’re back too.” He stumbles over his words. You were his best friend, there was no reason for him to be this nervous.

“Two months is too long. Next time I insist you come out to visit.” You poke his chest with your free hand, then release your occupied one to pull Barty into another hug. Barty’s arms wrap around your shoulders once more, and the two of you just stand there for a while, sharing in each other’s warmth.

Eventually the wind does pick up again, and you pull away to shiver.

“Alright, I’m sending you in so you don’t freeze to death before the semester even starts.” Barty rests his hands on your shoulders, then moves one of them to cradle the bottom of your face. He wipes a thumb across your cheek and you lean into his touch, staring into his eyes.

“Goodnight.” Barty says, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. You close your eyes and sigh. When Barty pulls back you’re smiling.

“Goonight, Bartemius.” You wink, then head up the steps, swipe your student id, and disappear into the building.

Barty shoves his hands back into his pockets just as his phone vibrates.

Dora: [picture]

Dora: you’ve really got to do something about this bat <3

The picture is from tonight. Regulus is leaning forward against the table, his mouth open like he is arguing something with someone behind the camera. On the other side of the photo you’re laughing, your eyes squeezed shut and your smile completely taking over your face. Between you and Regulus sits Barty, watching you with eyes wide. The sharp angles of the boy’s face seem to be soft in this moment, his normally tensed shoulders completely relaxed as he stares.

Barty’s face warms, despite the chill, and despite being completely alone where he stands. Eventually Barty shuts his phone off and puts it back in his pocket, beginning to walk back to his own building.

Yeah, this semester is going to be really good.

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