Day 1 (Part 3) - Beds and Booths

Rex's gaze fell on Kev, his eyes narrowing in appraisal. "This little guy doesn't look like he could handle himself in a pillow fight, let alone assist you," he scoffed, a cruel smirk twisting his lips, exposing his sharp feline teeth. "Guess you like the small ones, huh, Fang?"

Fang's growl deepened, a warning rumble that even Rex couldn't ignore. "Watch your tongue, tiger," he warned, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

Unfazed, Rex waved a hand at a passing waitress. "Another round here, sweety," he called out, his voice rough and commanding. "And make it something with a bit of bite this time." He turned back to Kev, his gaze unwavering.

"So, what are you, then?" he asked, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.

Kev, growing weary of the constant questioning, met Rex's gaze with a defiant stare. "I'm a human," he replied, his voice trying to hide how intimidated he felt from the predator.

Rex's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A human? Never heard of it." he echoed, a sardonic laugh escaping his lips. "The old wolf hasn't made a move on you yet, has he?" His eyes flicked suggestively between Kev and Fang.

Kev's face flushed a deep crimson. Fang, sensing the human's discomfort, intervened. "That's enough, Rex," he said, his voice sharp. "Mind your manners."

Rex leaned back in his seat, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Well, if the boss man doesn't want to show you a good time," he said loudly, his voice carrying across the booth and drawing curious glances from nearby patrons, "I'm always available when you're off the clock." He punctuated his offer with a suggestive wink, leaving little to the imagination.

The waitress, seemingly unfazed by Rex's brashness, arrived with a tray laden with three drinks. Rex, ever the alpha, didn't even wait for her to set them down before snatching them up. He downed each one in quick succession, the amber liquid disappearing down his throat with guttural growls.

He slammed the empty glasses back onto the tray, a loud clang that echoed through the now-hushed booth. A belch, loud and unapologetic, erupted from his chest. He stood, towering over Kev with a predatory grin. "I look forward to seeing you around, human," he purred, his voice a low rumble. He gave Kev another wink, this one even more suggestive than the last, then turned to Fang with a curt nod. "Gotta get back to work, boss."

With that, he sauntered away, his muscular frame parting the crowd like a hot knife through butter. The tension in the booth lingered even after he was gone, a palpable reminder of his unsettling presence.

Fang's jaw clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "That tiger's been getting a bit too comfortable lately," he muttered under his breath, his eyes following Rex's retreating figure.

Turning to Kev, he offered a sincere apology. "I'm truly sorry about Rex," he said, his voice softening considerably. "He can be... a bit much, sometimes. Especially after a few drinks." He paused, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable."

Kev forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering unease Rex had left in his wake. "It's fine," he assured Fang, though a knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. The encounter with Rex had forced him to confront a reality he'd been trying to ignore: the true nature of his job. He hadn't really thought about what it might mean to "make the boss happy," but if Rex's suggestive comments were any indication, Kev might be in a more precarious position than he originally assumed.

The big, burly beastmen of the club were undeniably attractive, their raw masculinity and animalistic energy a stark contrast to the men Kev was used to back on Earth. But the thought of being with one of them, of surrendering to their primal desires, was both exhilarating and terrifying. He wasn't sure he could handle the intensity, the sheer physicality of it all. Kev sighed wistfully, at least his sexuality wasn't going to be an issue in this strange club. 

As Kev wrestled with these complicated thoughts, Fang's voice broke through his reverie. "Ah, Kaiote, you made it," he greeted warmly, a hint of relief in his tone.

A slender crow-woman, her jet-black feathers shimmering in the dim light, approached their table. She had a large sweatshirt on, hood pulled over her head so only her black beak stuck out. She moved with quick jerky steps and clearly wasn't comfortable in the boisterous atmosphere of the club, her posture tense and guarded.

"Kev," Fang said, turning to him with a smile, "meet Kaiote, our IT manager. She's the one who keeps all our systems running smoothly, even without the luxury of electricity."

Kaiote's sharp eyes flicked towards Fang, a hint of amusement in their depths. "There's plenty of electricity down at the entrance to the parking lot," she corrected him, her voice a melodic counterpoint to the surrounding din. "Just not within the club itself."

She turned her attention to Kev, her curiosity evident. Before she could voice the inevitable question about his species, Kev interjected, "I'm a human."

Kaiote's interest piqued. "A human?" she echoed, her gaze sharpening. "I've only read about them..." Her focus seemed more on the concept of humans as a whole than on Kev as an individual.

Kev, sensing her scientific curiosity, decided to steer the conversation towards her work. "What exactly do you do here, Kaiote?" he asked.

"I oversee the club's security systems," she explained. "There are multiple layers of protection surrounding the property, ensuring no one sneaks in any sort of electronics. It's a complex setup, but it's essential for maintaining the privacy and safety of our patrons."

Fang offered her a drink, but she politely declined. "Thank you, but I'd prefer to get back to my office," she said, her gaze lingering on Kev for a moment longer. "It's much quieter out there." With a final nod to both of them, she turned and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Kev with a sense of intrigue and a growing list of questions about this fascinating new world.

A pleasant warmth spread through Kev's body as he finished his second (and a half) drink. The initial anxiety had given way to a sense of cautious curiosity. However, he knew he should put something substantial in his stomach before Dale's potent cocktails caught up with him. "Can we get something to eat?" he asked Fang, a hopeful note in his voice.

Fang, also feeling a bit loose from his own drinks, stretched his arms out along the back of the booth, one casually landing behind Kev's shoulders. Kev felt the warmth and firmness of Fang's furry arm and a blush crept up his neck. Rax's suggestive words still echoed in his mind, adding an unexpected layer of tension to the otherwise comfortable gesture.

Fang, oblivious to Kev's internal turmoil, beckoned a waitress with a flick of his wrist. "Two steaks, rare," he ordered, his voice carrying an air of authority even amidst the boisterous atmosphere.

Kev, his heart pounding in his chest, tried to focus on the anticipation of a good meal, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Rex's words, and the lingering touch of Fang's arm on his shoulder.

As the steaks arrived, sizzling and fragrant, Kev noticed a subtle shift in the club's atmosphere. The dancers on the floor began to disperse, and groups of patrons peeled away from the bar, disappearing into various hidden doorways and dimly lit corridors. The bar remained busy, but the crush of bodies had thinned considerably. Kev's curiosity piqued.

"Where is everyone going?" he asked Fang, watching a group of giggling hyenas vanish behind a velvet curtain.

Fang, momentarily distracted from his steak, followed Kev's gaze. "Ah," he said with a knowing smirk, "the night is just getting started for some. The real action happens behind closed doors."

He gestured vaguely towards the labyrinth of corridors that branched off from the main barroom. "Private rooms, play areas... all sorts of hidden delights for those seeking a more... personalized experience."

Kev felt a shiver run down his spine. He tried to imagine what went on behind those closed doors, but his mind conjured up images that were both thrilling and unsettling. Even with his brief passing peak, Kev knew that they weren't playing cards. 

Fang, meanwhile, had devoured his steak with impressive speed, the bone picked clean in a matter of minutes. Kev, on the other hand, had only managed to eat half of his. The portion size was clearly meant for a beastman's appetite, not a human's. He pushed the plate away, feeling a sense of fullness he hadn't experienced in a long time.

As the night wore on, the combination of Dale's potent cocktails and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club began to take its toll on Kev. He found himself leaning against Fang, the warmth of the wolfman's body a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos. The subtle scent of Fang's cologne, a mix of musk and something uniquely him, filled Kev's senses, creating a strange sense of intimacy.

Fang, though outwardly composed, was anything but calm on the inside. The proximity of the human, his scent and warmth so close, sent a thrill through him that he hadn't experienced in years. His heart hammered in his chest, a primal rhythm that echoed the beat of the live music. He was both excited by the prospect of having this exotic new assistant in his life and strangely nervous, unsure of how to navigate these unfamiliar feelings. The contrast between his usual confidence and this newfound vulnerability was both exhilarating and unsettling.

"We're just waiting a bit longer to meet the head chef," Fang explained, his voice a low rumble in Kev's ear, trying to maintain his composure. "The kitchen will be closing soon, and she'll be free to join us then." He hoped the slight tremor in his voice wasn't noticeable amidst the surrounding noise. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This was just a business meeting, he reminded himself. Nothing more.

Kev, picturing the bustling kitchen and the hearty meals being served, had expected the head chef to be a burly figure, perhaps a buffalo or a pig man. He was taken aback when a slender rat woman, dwarfed by the surrounding beastmen, approached their table. She pulled off her chef's hat, revealing a mop of greasy, dark hair, and slumped into the seat across from Fang.

"What the hell is this?" she asked, her voice raspy and laced with exhaustion, gesturing towards Kev with a cigarette dangling from her lips.

Kev, emboldened by the alcohol, giggled. "I'm a human," he replied, a playful lilt in his voice.

Fang chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through Kev's body. "This is my new assistant, Kev," he introduced, a hint of pride in his voice. "Kev, meet Reepicheep, but everyone just calls her Reepia, our head chef extraordinaire."

Reepia's sharp, beady eyes assessed Kev, her expression unreadable. She lit her cigarette with a practiced flick of her wrist, exhaling a cloud of smoke that momentarily obscured her face. "Fang doesn't need an assistant," she declared, her voice gruff. "He needs a damn army."

Fang's smile faltered slightly. "Thank you for your concern, Reepia," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "But I can't afford to take a long break. The city's been breathing down our necks lately. If I step away for too long, they'll find an excuse to shut us down." He looked down at Kev, his gaze softening. "Give him a chance, Reepia. He might surprise you."

Reepia's gaze shifted to Kev, her eyes narrowed in a skeptical glare that could cut through steel. "And what exactly can this... little human do to help you?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "He looks like he'd break in half if he tried to lift a sack of potatoes, let alone handle the shit-storm you call a life."

Fang bristled, his protective instincts flaring. The urge to defend Kev, to silence Reepia's sharp tongue, was strong. But he'd known the rat woman since they were pups, their bond forged in the rough-and-tumble streets of their youth. He knew her gruff demeanor and biting words hid a genuine concern for his well-being. Reepia was one of the few who could get away with speaking to him so bluntly, and he tolerated it, even encouraged it, because he knew she had his best interests at heart.

"This is really the best you could find?" Reepia continued, her voice rising in disbelief, a cloud of smoke curling around her head like an angry storm cloud. "He's even smaller than me! And I'm a rat, for crying out loud!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, her cigarette dangling precariously between her fingers. "I'll have to give Horns a piece of my mind for not hiring someone more... capable. Someone who can actually handle the stress of this place."

She took a long drag from her cigarette, her eyes never leaving Kev. "I hope you're not just another pretty face, human," she said, her voice low and menacing. "Because Fang needs more than just a distraction. He needs someone who can actually make a difference."

Kev's brows furrowed in confusion. He'd hoped to foster a friendly rapport with his new colleagues, not face hostility on his first night. He decided to try a different approach, aiming for common ground. "The steak was delicious," he offered, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "But the portion size was a bit much for me."

Reepia's expression softened slightly, a flicker of acknowledgement in her eyes. "That's the Carnivore's Choice," she explained with a shrug. "Most of those phony alphas want to impress their dates with a big hunk of meat."

Fang let out a choked laugh, a rare display of amusement that caught Kev off guard. Reepia's bluntness, while sometimes abrasive, was often refreshingly honest.

"Relax, Reepia," Fang said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Give Kev a chance."

Kev, emboldened by Fang's support, spoke up. "I'll try to order a smaller portion next time, so I don't waste any food."

A hint of approval flickered in Reepia's eyes. "Good," she grunted. "Waste not, want not."

She stood up, her gaze sweeping over Kev and Fang one last time. "I'll be keeping an eye on you, human," she warned, her voice low and gravelly. "One wrong move, and I'll have to break out the kitchen knives."

With that ominous pronouncement, she turned and disappeared back into the bustling kitchen, leaving Kev to ponder the implications of her words.

Fang leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There are others you should meet," he admitted, "but perhaps this is enough for one night. We wouldn't want to overwhelm you."

He hesitated, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Just... try not to wander around too much. Some of our guests can get a bit... enthusiastic, especially after a few drinks." He didn't want Kev to become the target of unwanted advances.

Fang stood up, his towering form casting a long shadow over the table. He lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Kev. The memory of the human leaning against him, their bodies pressed together in the dimly lit booth, sent a shiver of excitement through him. He was reluctant to leave, but duty called.

With a final, lingering look, he said, "Good night, Kev. Sleep well." Then, with a nod, he turned and strode off into the heart of the club, his powerful presence leaving a palpable void in the booth.

Kev, feeling a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, rose from the booth and made his way towards the exit. He paused at the velvet rope, offering a grateful smile to the kangaroo bouncer. "Thanks for keeping an eye out," he said, his voice slightly slurred.

The bouncer nodded in acknowledgement, his stern expression softening slightly. "No problem, kid. Sleep well."

Kev navigated the maze of corridors, his steps a bit unsteady, until he reached the familiar staircase leading to the second floor. He climbed the stairs, each step a minor triumph, and finally arrived at his room.

The apartment was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the windows. Kev fumbled with the matches and lantern Horns had provided, cursing under his breath as he struggled to light the wick. Finally, a soft yellow glow filled the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

He settled onto the couch, lighting a cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke into the quiet air. His mind raced, replaying the events of the evening. The vibrant energy of the club, the intimidating presence of Rex, the enigmatic Kaiote, and Fang's lingering touch... It was all so much to process.

With a sigh, Kev stubbed out his cigarette and made his way to the bedroom. The queen-sized bed, with its crisp, clean sheets, beckoned him like a haven. He sank into the plush mattress, a wave of exhaustion washing over him.

As he drifted off to sleep, a part of him couldn't help but wish that Fang was there beside him, his warmth and presence a comforting counterpoint to the strangeness of this new world. But for now, Kev was content to let sleep claim him, the promise of a new day, and perhaps a new understanding of his place in this world, awaiting him in the morning.