Who:D'Artagnan and R What:D'Artagnan remembers why he's not a club/bar person. Where:A random club When:Backdated to the beginning of October Warnings:None just an annoyed Musketeer. STATUS:FINISHED
Saturday night and D’Artagnan decided to leave the house. He wasn’t ready to be one of those couples who resigned themselves to staying in on the weekend yet. He thought he was for a good half of the year, but he was starting to explore a little more these days and spare Athos dragging him along. He wasn’t that codependent on his significant other to where he couldn’t be apart for a few hours and be fine. Right?
..Maybe. He found himself sitting at the bar, facing the audience and mostly watching the sea of dancing people. He wasn’t that confident in his dancing abilities to join them, so he lurked and enjoyed the music. There was a live band in this one it was a nice touch, the energy was high and he let a foot sway just above the wooden floor. It was a classy little rock bar that was also known to have a piano bar on the second open air floor.
He idly sipped a colorful cocktail and raised an eyebrow at a couple in the center of the dance floor practically having sex in public. That may as well be his que. He wasn’t exactly keen on watching people go at it, he decided to escape to said piano bar up the stairs into the cool night for a bit of air. The piano itself wasn’t being used due to the live band downstairs, but it was a classy rooftop place. Airy and wide open, Athos might like it after all. He snapped a picture to send to his husband of the view that overlooked the beach and brushed a strand of annoying dark hair out of his face as a breeze blew it out of place.
While he was busy not entirely paying attention to the random people that explored the small quieter sanctuary his drink was knocked from his hands by an obnoxious drunk who brushed past him in a hurry to get back downstairs, D’Artagnan made a disapproving sound and rubbed the arm where the drunk had smashed into. “Excuse you.” He said sarcastically, causing the man to turn and glare at the doorway.
***
R wasn’t as familiar with this bar as he was with others, but he was a good drunk who knew that he had to switch his bars lest anyone get suspicious. But because he wasn’t familiar with this bar, he was also lost.
It wasn’t often that he enjoyed dancing, but there was a truly enchanting young woman who he’d acquainted himself with over the course of the evening and she enjoyed dancing very much. So they had danced, and danced, and soon she’d pinned him to a wall and was attempting to climb up him, which he was fine with. Eventually, though, the alcohol caught up with him, and he had to interrupt her attempts to treat him as a tree and find a restroom. The bartender gave him vague directions of “upstairs”, which didn’t help much when it took him several minutes to find where this ‘upstairs’ was.
But, he found a restroom eventually and before any unfortunate accidents could take place, he did his business, and he began to stumble back down to find his lovely lady friend again. But before he could, he found himself knocking into another someone, and his leg was soaked with alcohol. He glanced at it for a moment and then shrugged at the gentleman he’d run into and started to head down the stairs. But the sarcastic ‘excuse you’ brought him up short, and he turned with a sarcastic smile of his own.
“Excuse me indeed, monsieur! You were so stiff and uncomfortable I thought that you were a mannequin of some kind, it did not seem to matter if I ran into you or not! You are certainly pretty enough to be one, though your personality seems very lacking. You are in the wrong place if you only want to hide away. Come, I will buy you another drink, and you will have a good time.” R jogged back up the stairs and grabbed the man by the arm to drag him back downstairs.
***
D’Artagnan wasn’t exactly interested in going back downstairs yet. It was loud and frankly making his head ring a bit. The bar on the roof would suit him just fine. There was a man behind it as well even in spite of the piano not being in use. “I think I’ll stay here, thanks.” He commented as he wormed his arm gracefully enough away without being too abrasive.
“Too hot down there.” He frowned at the idea of returning to the sea of heated bodies that didn’t seem to care who they pressed against in the midst of the music. There was something almost eerily primal about it. The dark haired man was no pushover, it was clear he wasn’t overly concerned about receiving a free replacement drink if it meant being dragged about. “I can get one over there in any case.” He shrugged. He was outwardly kind enough, but it was a guarded sort of smile he wore.
***
R was used to being shut down, and this man was hardly one of the ruder ones to have done it, so R wasn’t so dissuaded by his attempts to extricate himself from the situation. He shook his head and took the man by the arm again. “Non non, mon frere, we will go to the bar downstairs, there is a lady down there, she is much fun. You will like her, I am sure. Do not tell me that you do not know how to dance, I do not either in a club and she has taught me.” And R started attempting to drag him down the stairs again.
*** The brunette frowned but resigned to being pulled away. “I doubt it.” He responded with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t feel like letting her crawl all over me.” The idea of it made his skin crawl, someone touching him like that who wasn’t Athos. Who was decidedly also not male. “It’s fun up there too.” He motioned back to the rooftop with the grand view, that was more of his style of fun. This man apparently was not going to give though, so he went back to the fray. “I know how to club dance just fine, this just isn’t my sort of crowd after all I think…” He was awkward, a litttle stiff even at the whole idea of being dragged about with a woman.
***
“She is lovely, mon frere, you will love her. I assure you,” R said, waving a hand at the man’s protestations. “Are you shy with women? Is that why you protest?” He cast a smirk over his shoulder, eyes oddly focused for a man so into his cups.
R scoffed. “Non non, it is not fun up there, it is quiet. Quiet is bad when you are drinking, it gives you time to think and that is very dangerous. It is better to dance!” And with that they turned the corner back out to the main room of the club, and the woman R had been with waiting by the stairs for them. She grabbed him and pulled him in for a kiss, before noticing the new tagalong to their show.
“You’ve found us another something to play with?” she asked, turned back to R with a sly grin. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you get into trouble, I see. I like that in a man.”
*** “I’m gay, and married.” D’Artagnan responded with an unamused tone at the comment of the woman being ‘fun.’ “I’m sure for you she is fine.” He was pretty ready to go home at that point. Maybe this whole club idea wasn’t the best one he’d had in awhile.
“Sorry, but no.” D’Artagnan said plainly toward the girl. He was quickly losing interest in this place. I was his own fault he supposed, but now he was just feeling awkward as fuck.
***
“More for me then,” the girl said with a smile at Grantaire, who smiled as well but pushed her away.
“Non, ma cherie, I owe this man a drink. I will see you later?” he asked, hopeful until she rolled her eyes, made a disgusted noise, and walked away. A stab of hurt, then a forced smile and a shrug. “Ah, c’est la vie. Come, mon ami, we will drink together instead. What is now all over my leg, we will get you another.”
***
At lack of strange club woman, D’Artagnan seemed better able to relax and a whole lot less tense. “I don’t think she likes you much right now.” the dark haired man wasn’t sure he could disagree with her assessment-but he was true to his word apparently. That was at least point in his direction and earned him a little sympathetic smile as they headed for the bar. “You could have just gone with her, you don’t even know me?” He spoke like someone familiar, but D’Artagnan had come ot know many french people recently. Many of them spoke that way.
***
“That is how women are with me,” R said with a dismissive wave. “I am an honest man and then they leave me. It is why I am so often dishonest and horrible. They leave me then too but I feel that that is deserved.”
R dragged the man over to the bar, settling on a stool and gesturing to the one beside him. “I do not have to know you to want to drink with you. I am happy to drink at any time with anyone. But I am called Grantaire or R, if it will comfort you.” He held out a hand while motioning the bartender over. “Monsieur, please give mon ami what he would like, it is on my tab.”
*** “Seems like you can’t win.” He shrugged at that, seeming to relax a little more at the iea of hanging around this guy one the girl left. He really wasn’t interested in letting some woman crawl all over him. He’d only come out of curiosity. “This isn’t my usual scene if you couldn’t tell.” He wasn’t certain how to act in clubs, he always felt awkward but that was exactly why he pushed himself to keep trying them, new experiences were supposedly a good thing or something.
He sank down on said stool and shook his hand. “From that network?” Yeah, nice reaction. Vague and not to the point at all. “D’artagnan, I think we’ve actually spoken there before.” The ‘R’ name was familiar. Glancing up at the bartender he shrugged. “Hibiki.” He pointed at a caramel flavored Japanese Whiskey, the same thing he was drinking before. He had a soft spot for the smoaky flavor.
***
“It is a curse of being who I am - that is, awful.” R sighed, overdramatically, and then shrugged. It was what it was, and there was nothing he could do about it, short of working on changing himself, and that was too difficult and probably required books or therapy or something. Much simpler to hate himself and pretend like he was fine. “You seem like you are very happy to be here, yes. We will get you drunk, it will make you enjoy things more.”
R’s eyes lit up. “Oui! Mon frere, the one who does not speak French. I remember you, yes. It is nice to see you. I have not met anyone from the Network before, that I know of. Other than some who I already knew.” As they spoke, R pulled out his wallet and paid for their drinks, and the bartender was quick to grab them and set them in front of them. R grabbed his. “I am sorry that I have been rude to you, but it is who I am, you see? Ah, it is very loud down here, would you like to go upstairs again? It will be quieter and we may speak.”
*** D’Artagnan shot the man a slightly amused glance but didn’t respond. With that amount of drama he probably brought a lot of it on himself really. The brunette shrugged at the comment, “I get claustrophobic.” Frankly he blamed the dreams for that one, because he didn’t used to previously. “I was happier on the roof but I wouldn’t object to going back there drunk.” He mused. “Yeah..well slightly incorrect-I speak bad French.” He mused as he rolled his eyes at the comment. His French in reality probably wasn’t -that- terrible, but it wasn’t smooth like Athos or R’s. D’Artagnan shrugged off the comment about the rudeness. “I’ve met worse.” Being a gay man people acted differently around him, it was just a way of life sometimes.
***
“Then we will make you more comfortable, or we will drink until you are,” R said with a smile. “Come on.” He slung an arm around D’artagnan’s shoulders and led him back up the stairs.
“For most of the French, only speaking bad French is the same as not speaking French at all, we are very elitist about our language. Luckily I am trash so I do not care so much,” he said as he pushed the other man up the stairs. “And I do not care who else you have met, I have been awful to you now, and I will make up for it.”
*** It seemed there was no escape. Honestly R’s proposition was fairly tempting and he wasn’t really sure he wanted one anyway.
“Then I don’t speak French.” He shrugged, not afraid to admit his French was terrible. He didn’t have much by way of practice with it. ‘I kind of need to learn it though, I just don’t have many to practice with beyond the class I took. And they only know what’s taught out of a book.” That didn’t often equal real conversational language. That was book French, plain and simple.
***
“Well mon frere, then I will practice with you,” R said with a smile as they reached the top of the stairs. He had to admit that it was quieter up here, and easier to talk. Granted, he hadn’t set out this evening to talk, but it wasn’t often that evenings went the way that he intended them to, so it wasn’t much of a loss. He had means of not-talking with himself at home, if he weren’t too drunk by the time he made it back to the apartment. Company may keep him sober enough, perhaps. “I know the language that they did not teach you in school. I will teach you all of the best swears! And I know another who you can practice with too, an enchanting woman. Though you will not fall as easily as I do under her wiles, so you will get more out of speaking with her than I might.”
***
He’d tried some French with Aramis, but it was hard once Aramis decided moving back home was a good idea to keep it up. Sometimes they had chats on the phone but it wasn’t very regular. “I’m sure you had other ideas of how tonight was supposed to go, you don’t have to hang around me you know.” He frowned a little, it was a club after all. Most people didn’t go to them to hang out on the roof, hell even D’Artagnan didn’t but he knew his limits so far. He just didn’t feel like going home yet “Oh yeah? Who might that be?” He couldn’t help but be a little curious, even if it meant keeping R away from the bar a bit longer to entertain his questions.
***
It was definitely hard to keep up with a language if you weren’t constantly immersed in it - R had struggled mightily his first few weeks in America, constantly tripping over himself and forgetting words, but as he spent more time here he learned a little better. He’d never been the best student but he’d had enough lessons that he’d thought he’d be okay. He decidedly was not; Esmeralda and the others at the Court were a pleasant break.
R shook his head - yes, he had intentions, but now he had a plan. “Non, non, I have made a promise, and while I often go back on my promises, I do not do it in front of the person who I have promised something to.” He took a long gulp of his drink. “Besides, I am interested to know why a married man has come to a place like this. You had ideas of your own, non?”
R sighed. “Oh, mon frere, she is called Esmeralda. We knew one another in Paris, she is so very enchanting, one of the most beautiful women I have ever met. She knows me too well, I am sorry to say, so she knows who I am as a person, but I think that she will be happy to help you.”
***
It was ironic and annoying to D’Atagnan that his dreams were so deeply interlaced with French but he couldn’t hardly speak a lick of it outside them. Sure he had a few decent conversations with his mother, but beyond that it was pretty terrible. She was just too kind hearted to tell him he was awful at it.The woman had started to write him in French too, it was actually a little more helpful than he initially thought it was.
“I had ideas of getting drunk and music, I failed to remember how crowded and uncomfortable these places were.” The brunette said with an awkward smile. “I don’t do well in over crowded spots.” He got cranky, as R could see.
That name again. Esmeralda. D’Artagnan couldn’t help but laugh in a good natured sort of way. “We’ve met. My mother decided we were supposed to be married and set up an arranged marriage for us at one point or another.” He waved a hand. “I’m already married though, and happily so.”
***
“It is why you drink in these places, I do not think that anyone truly enjoys them, that is why they get so drunk.” R nodded with a grin. “I know of places to go, if you want to drink and listen to music. The college bars and the small pubs, they have the local music. You always hear the same songs but with enough beer they are good every time.”
R laughed as well, loud and bright. “So you are immune to her charms! You are more of a man than I am, because I am not. But hers is also a good place to drink, it is quieter, at least when she is not dancing.” It could get a little rowdy around her stage then, but if they had...something resembling an acquaintanceship, then it should be easy enough to find out her schedule. If not, R all but knew it by heart and would be happy to share the knowledge, if it would bring D’Artagnan a little more comfort in his life.
*** “Thing I didn’t want was to end at one of those boring places where the staff even looks half asleep.” The brunette shrugged. “I don’t know much about these sorts of things, they were more of Aramis’s forte. But I was bored staying inside tonight.” He admitted as he nursed a drink he’d gotten.
“I think I understand that sentiment now. Getting drunk to stand it.” He clarified as a woman in a skimpy outfit that could barely be qualified as clothing brushed past him. “Maybe I’ll let you be my guide for those then.” D’Artagnan shrugged, letting himself enjoy the temporary buzz the alcohol brought him for a moment.
“Suppose you’ve got a point there She did invite me out a bit ago. Maybe we could get there instead?” This place was starting to make his skin crawl..
***
“Well I will take you to places that are not boring, mon frere. We will make you enjoy yourself!” R laughed and clapped D’Artagnan on the back. “And we will go to see her now, if that is what you want. Finish your drink,” he said, reaching for his own and tossing it back easily. He paid his final bill and stood, waiting for D’Artagnan to be ready as well.
The brunette rolled his eyes in amusement but followed in suit. He couldn’t say he was actually disappointed by this idea. Getting out of that smoky bar was just what he needed. “I’ll call us a car.” He did just that, paying off what was left of his own tab and dialing in someone to ome get them. Money didn’t matter much to him, but he didn’t brag. He wanted his friends to be safe, and comfortable if he could help it and for the time being, he could.