Anime One-Shots

(Chuuya Nakahara X Reader) Happy Hour

You remembered that the first time you met him was when you both were eighteen.

He walked into the establishment with a whole party of people in suits and ties who seemed almost misplaced within the bar amongst the other, more casually dressed customers. They certainly constituted a rather memorable group.

One of the members, a heavily bandaged brunette, crossed his arms vexedly with a childishly grumpy pout. "This isn't the bar, Lupin."

"You always go there, let someone else pick for once. Besides, this is a one time thing in order to celebrate...boss...the...n..." Their voices quieted down enough so that the end of the sentence was cut off from your hearing. "We probably won't all go drinking together again for a long time."

"Ugh, but why did we have to go with Chuuya too? I don't even like being in a thirty mile radius of him. Couldn't we have just left him behind? With his tiny stature, I'm sure we could've lost him in the crowd."

"Oi, you bastard-" A fuming redhead brusquely grabbed his collar with tightened, straining fists. "If you want, I could send your sorry ass flying right off into the fucking galaxy! Would that be far away enough for you?!"

"Oh? How are you going to do that, Chuuya? With your ability that I'll just simply nullify at the touch of a finger?"

"YOU ARE THE MOST INSUFFERABLE-"

"Um, sir, please quiet down." You called from behind the bar counter while wiping a beer glass dripping with water. His ears bloomed with red at being chided by the attractive barmaid who was wearing a disapproving expression upon her youthful face. "You're disturbing the other cust-"

"No, no! It's fine, d-do as you please!" Your manager stuttered, covering your mouth with a sweaty, shaking hand. "W-we greatly appreciate the business you provide."

You sighed, shaking your head, but refrained from vocalizing any further complaints and returned to cleaning the empty cup. A few minutes later, the same ginger-haired boy from before stood in front of you, slapping down a single, but exorbitantly valued bill.

You would've said his eyes were beautiful - a shade of deep, oceanic blue that seemed to glow with a luminescence of their own under the dimmed bar lights... that is, if they weren't busy twitching with intense irritation.

"A Bloody Mary."

"Oh, that's an interesting choice. Not too many people order them." How memorable.

"Gonna pour it down that asshat's shirt and pretend I killed him. Keep the change." ...how memorable.

"...pretend?"

"The guy's practically unkillable. Good-for-nothing bastard can't even kill himself. Trust me - he's tried."

"Er, okay...? Enjoy?" You hesitantly slid the glass over to him across the counter, the man grasping it tightly with a death grip. He then chased after the taller, fleeing male with the crimson liquid about to be utilized as a projectile. Of course he missed.

"Ah, one puddle of a ruined alcoholic beverage and one wet, unhappy customer - two messes to clean up."

----------

Well, at least he wasn't drunk. The first time you saw him get utterly wasted was when he came into the bar, clothes in disarray, his fedora teetering dangerously off the edge of his head.

"Scotch on the rocks - as many as this much will buy." He practically emptied his entire wallet and flopped over into the barstool, his head in his hands as he leaned his elbows onto the counter.

"You don't seem the type."

"Huh?"

"Nothing... you just don't seem like the kind of guy who'd like a scotch on the rocks." You poured the high alcohol content beverage straight over the ice cubes and passed the drink over to him. "You usually order a glass of our best red wine, simple but sweet."