There was a particular ease about regulars, Remus realized. He found himself relaxing easier into the touches, the promises, the questions knowing there was some degree of safety in the interactions - no nasty surprises, although Remus didn’t know his name..<br/>They hadn’t had a set date, but the man had found him regardless, almost immediately upon Remus’ arrival. Some odd thirty minutes later, he had inched closer and Remus had welcomed it.<br/>Remus was nursing a cigarette, looking at the man with juvenile interest, flushed cheeks and grinning. Over the sound of the music, they had talked each other up to the point of their conversation becoming little more than teases. The man had a hand at Remus’ waistband, egging Remus on with wishes and desires, boyishly pleading them to reality with pound bills, stuffing them into Remus’ front pocket, fingers lingering against the thin cotton of the pocket lining.<br/>Despite the boldness of the exchange, Remus was entertained; his free hand lingered on the man’s arm, but the way it curved around his elbow rather than his wrist spoke of an unmistakable encouragement.