Regulus: your what

Evan: grandma

Regulus: then it would be grandmère or something along those lines

Evan: no

*regulus and Evan proceed to argue over European French and Canadian French for the 4th time that week*

Rosekiller - Evan POV

Part 2 of Attention by the incredibly talented @lackadaisicallizard

“Surely you could get free drinks and fucked if you went to some other club?” Regulus mocked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Yeah, why do you keep going back if every time a guy shows interest in you he gets kicked out?” James asks from his spot by Regulus. Regulus, who had been to the club before looks to Evan, smirking.

“Clearly our little Reggie boy hasn’t filled you in on the sin incarnate that is the owner of the Snake Pit.”

Oh and what sin he was.

It was obscene, really, to look like that. The definition of tall, dark and handsome. The first thing Evan noticed were the tattoos. It was hard not too when every visible piece of tan skin was covered in black ink.  Most of them seemed well done, others were clearly the result of a drunken night out.  

Evan wanted to map all of them out, preferably with his mouth.

God, there was one in particular. A snake that wrapped around the base of his throat with its tail going down his sternum and its mouth by his left ear. Evan wanted nothing more than to trace the path of that tattoo with his tongue.  His dark hair was the kind of effortlessly messy that you could tell took a lot of time and product to get just right. Evan probably thought too much about running his hands through that hair, of seeing how truly messy he could make it.

He was taller than Evan, just barely, but enough that if they stood too close Evan would have to look up to look in his eyes. And his eyes. They were kind of dark brown that they looked black unless the light hit them right.  They were the eyes of someone who took what they wanted and didn’t give a damn about the consequences. Fuck if Evan didn’t want to be taken.

“Are we still calling him that? Sin?” Regulus said, pulling Evan from his reverie.

“Ev, you’ve been going there for months at this point, and you still haven’t gotten laid and you still don’t know his name, it’s time to move on,” Pandora said gently.

But he went back. Just like every other weekend he went back. And just like every other weekend it was the Same.

Fucking.

Thing.

Just like last weekend, Evan wore what Dorcas called a fuck me outfit.  And he danced, letting the music take over, losing himself to bass so loud it throbbed in his bones.  And, like clockwork some guy came over to him, standing a little too close.  Hands a little too low on his waist.  Evan indulged him, inclined his head just so. Leaned into him enough to make him think Evan was interested, lightly touch his chest, all the while making eye contact with him. Sin. And just like every other fucking weekend, Evan’s potential hookup was escorted from the club. Replaced, instead, with a smirk and a mojito.

By the fourth time this happened, Evan was fed up.  Normally, Evan doesn’t approach men. Because normally, Evan doesn’t need to approach men. Normally, all Evan had to do was acknowledge a man and that was enough to get him to come over.

But not this one.

Not Sin.

Maybe it was the three mojitos in the span of an hour. Maybe it was because Evan was so horny it was painful. Or maybe Evan just wanted to wipe that goddamned smirk off of his goddamn perfectly chiseled face.

“What the fuck is your problem.” Evan demanded; anger clear in his tone.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sin drawled out, he sounded nonchalant, bored even.

“You don’t…you don’t know what I mean?!” Evan all but shrieked. “You can’t be fucking serious! You have kicked out every guy who shows even the most remote amount of interest in me but you don’t know what I mean?”  

“I kick people out of my club for many reasons,” Sin stated evenly, “it just so happens that you attract the ones who deserve to be kicked out.”

“I attract – I attract the ones who deserve to be kicked out?!” Now, Evan was shrieking. “That’s fucking hilarious. A comedian and a club owner, your mother must be so impressed.” Evan said bitterly.

“You know what I think it is?” Evan asked when he did not get a response.

“Do tell,” Sin responded, dragging his gaze lazily up and down Evan before stepping closer.

“I think you’re jealous, you’re jealous and you’re too much of a coward to do anything about it.” Evan said, smirking.

“Is that what you think?” Sin asked, stepping closer to Evan danger glinting in his eyes.

“Why else has it been months of you chasing off every man who comes near me without claiming me for yourself? I mean hell, I don’t even know your name. You’re scared, admit it.”

It was instantaneous, how Sin stepped even closer one hand with a bruising grip on his hip the other on his chin, holding his head in place.

“Claim you? I think you’re mistaken angioletto, I don’t need to claim you because you’re already mine.”