Club Fang

Kev, bewildered by their sudden change in mood, focused on his food, his appetite momentarily diminished by the unsettling display. He couldn't quite grasp the complex dynamics between Fang and Ralph, their friendship seemingly built on a foundation of playful antagonism and unspoken understanding. He decided to keep his observations to himself, content to be a silent observer for now.

Once the laughter subsided, Fang's expression turned serious once more. "I've got a VIP group coming in next week," he said, his voice low once again composed. "Some foreigners. Warlock's people. They'll be expecting the best of the best, and I might need some supplies on short notice."

Ralph leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Anything specific in mind?" he inquired, his tone businesslike.

"Not yet," Fang admitted. "But my people will contact you with any new information as soon as it becomes available."

Ralph raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze. "If that's the case, why discuss it now?" he asked.

Fang met his gaze, his own eyes unwavering. "I'm trying to make sure these VIPs are happy, Ralph," he explained. "Their satisfaction is crucial to the club's future. I need to know that I can rely on you to provide whatever we need. Whenever we need it."

Ralph nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I'll keep it in mind, Fang," he assured him. "But without any specific directions, there's not much I can do to prepare."

The business conversation trailed off as Fang and Kev finished their meal. The chicken and asparagus was delicious, grilled and light. The simple small portion was a perfect size, even with just a few bites of a sandwich for lunch, he was full after.

Ralph, sensing the lull, smoothly changed the subject. "So, Kev," he began, his voice taking on a more casual tone, "how's working for the old dog been so far? Bet he's got you doing a lot more than drafting. Tell me; playing fetch, keeping him from chewing on chicken bones, smacking him when he's sniffing butts? What does the assistant do?"

Fang growled playfully, nudging Ralph with his elbow. "Watch it, duck," he warned, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Kev smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him. "It's been fine so far," he replied. "A lot of names to remember, and the club is a bit overwhelming, but everyone's been very welcoming."

Ralph raised an eyebrow, a surprised chuckle escaping his beak. "Fang hasn't tried to bite your head off yet?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Not yet," Kev said, returning the smile. "He's actually been great. I just think he needs to get a real night's sleep now and then."

Ralph's gaze shifted to Fang, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Aww, is the puppy sleepy?" he asked, his voice laced with playful mockery.

Fang barked a laugh, a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the private room. "Enough, Ralph," he warned, though his tone was light. He stood up, draining the last of his drink. "One more thing before we leave," he said, turning to Ralph.

"What is it?" Ralph asked, his curiosity piqued.

"On your next delivery," Fang instructed, his voice firm, "make sure to include a bag of your very finest flowers. My new assistant here is fond of the grass just like Horns."

A small smile spread across Kev's face. He hadn't expected Fang to be so accommodating, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

"That's easy enough," Ralph replied with a shrug. "Consider it done."

Fang stood up, extending a hand towards Ralph. "It was good to see you, old friend," he said warmly. "You should come visit the club sometime. It's been too long."

Ralph's smile faltered slightly. "It was terrifying to see you again, to be honest," he admitted with a nervous chuckle. "Didn't know what brought you out of your Den so suddenly. I'll have to think about visiting the club."

Fang's grin widened, and he clapped a hand on Ralph's shoulder. "Don't be a stranger," he said, his voice filled with genuine affection. He handed Ralph the cigar box from inside his suit jacket. "A pleasure doing business, as always."

With a final nod, Fang strode towards the door, Kev trailing behind him.

As they were about to leave, Ralph's voice stopped Kev in his tracks. "Kev," the duck man called out, his tone thoughtful. "You seem to be good for the old wolf."

Kev turned back, a surprised smile on his face. "Thank you, Ralph," he replied sincerely. "And thank you for the delicious meal."

He hurried to catch up with Fang, who was already waiting by the elevator. As they descended back into the bustling mall, Kev couldn't help but ponder Ralph's words. It wasn't the first time someone had commented on his calming influence on Fang. Horns had said something similar earlier that day, and even Reepia had hinted at it.

He wondered what it was about him that seemed to ease Fang's usual tension and anxiety. Was it his quiet demeanor, his willingness to listen, or simply his presence as a reminder of a world beyond the club's walls? Whatever the reason, Kev couldn't deny a sense of satisfaction at the thought of being a positive influence on Fang's life.

The city lights blurred past the car windows as the owl-man sped back to the club. The streets were still alive with activity, a testament to Dala'Bon's vibrant nightlife. Kev, nestled comfortably against Fang, watched the ever-changing scenery with a sense of wonder.

Fang, his arm wrapped securely around Kev's shoulders, leaned closer, his voice a low rumble in the quiet confines of the car. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Kev," he said, his tone sincere. "It was... refreshing to step away from the club for a while."

Kev felt a warmth spread through him at Fang's words. He was touched by the wolfman's vulnerability, his willingness to let his guard down and share a glimpse of his personal life. "Thank you for bringing me," he replied, his voice soft. "I really enjoyed it. And all the new clothes and the watch... it's all very generous."

Fang chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through Kev's body. "I want you to stick around, Kev," he said, his gaze meeting Kev's. "I know the club doesn't have the same luxuries as the city, but I can provide an exciting life for you here. New experiences, new opportunities..."

Kev leaned into Fang's embrace, a sense of contentment settling over him. "Don't worry so much, Fang," he said, his voice reassuring. "You haven't given me a reason to quit yet."

A relieved smile spread across Fang's face. He tightened his grip on Kev, drawing him closer. As they approached the security checkpoint, a familiar figure stepped out of the guardhouse. Rex, his muscular frame silhouetted against the moonlight, raised a hand in greeting.

Rex, his voice a low growl, informed the driver, "Standard procedure, fellas. The boss man doesn't get special treatment."

The owl man nodded and stepped out of the vehicle, his movements swift and efficient. Kev and Fang followed suit, a hint of annoyance in Fang's eyes as he observed the security protocol.

A team of security personnel, armed with high-tech scanners and detection equipment, swarmed the car, their movements precise and coordinated. They meticulously examined every inch of the vehicle, their scanners sweeping over the exterior and interior, searching for any signs of tampering or hidden devices.

Fang shifted impatiently, his tail twitching with barely contained impatience. "They're taking their sweet time," he grumbled under his breath.

Kev, sensing Fang's growing frustration, reached out and gently rubbed his back. "It's for our safety," he whispered, his voice soothing. "Better to be thorough than sorry."

Fang relaxed slightly under Kev's touch, a grateful smile playing on his lips. He watched as the owl man, having removed his shoes and any metallic accessories, was ushered through a metal detector, his wings momentarily ruffled by the breeze from the security checkpoint's fans.

Fang followed, passing through the metal detector without a beep. Kev, feeling a bit nervous, removed his shoes and belt and stepped through the archway. A shrill alarm pierced the night air, causing Kev to jump in surprise.

Rex, a predatory grin on his face, sauntered over. "Looks like someone's been naughty," he purred, his voice a low rumble.

"Rex, cut it out," Fang snapped.

Ignoring Fang's protest, Rex began patting Kev down, his hands moving slowly and deliberately over Kev's legs, lingering a bit too long on his thighs. He leaned in close, his hot breath tickling Kev's ear. "Relax, little human," he whispered, his voice laced with a suggestive undertone. "I just need to make sure you're not hiding anything dangerous. Got anything hard hiding in those pockets?"

His hands moved upwards as he spoke, tracing the contours of Kev's chest, his fingers brushing against Kev's pecs. A shiver ran down Kev's spine, a mix of fear and a strange, forbidden thrill.

"Aha!" Rex exclaimed triumphantly, pulling the silver cigarette case from Kev's pocket. "Got you."

Kev's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's new, and I completely forgot about it." He quickly stepped back through the metal detector, this time passing without incident.

Rex, a smug grin on his face, handed Kev his belongings but held the cigarette case up to the moonlight, its silver surface glinting in the darkness. "I could get you something real nice," he purred, his voice a low rumble, "if you wanted to come out with me sometime."

He placed the case back in Kev's outstretched hand, his fingers brushing against Kev's palm, sending a shiver down his spine.

Kev, finally starting to get used to the unabashed advances of the beastmen, met Rex's gaze with a neutral look. "That's cute," he said, his voice flat and dry.

Rex's grin faltered, his confidence momentarily shaken. He blinked, his predatory eyes wide with surprise. "Cute?" he echoed, his voice a bewildered growl. He was a tiger, an alpha, the epitome of strength and dominance. Cute was the furthest thing from his usual image.

Kev, amused by Rex's flustered reaction, chuckled softly. He turned and walked back to the car, leaving the bewildered tigerman standing in the moonlight.

Fang, who had been observing the exchange with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness, opened the car door for Kev. As they settled into the backseat, he couldn't help but grin. "You handled Rex quite well," he commented, his voice laced with a hint of pride. "Not many people can fluster him like that."

Kev shrugged, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I'm just being myself," he replied.

Fang's grin widened. "And that's exactly what I like about you," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver of anticipation though Kev.

 The car pulled back into the familiar wooded driveway, the towering mansion emerging from the darkness like a slumbering beast. Stepping out into the cool night air, Kev was greeted by the familiar cacophony of the club in full swing. The windows blazed with light, and the rhythmic pulse of music throbbed through the walls. It was well past midnight, and the revelry was at its peak.

"Would you like a nightcap before bed?" Fang asked, his voice a low rumble in Kev's ear.

Kev nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Sure," he replied, his curiosity piqued. "Let's check on Dale and catch some of Asmodeus's performance."

Fang's arm draped casually over Kev's shoulders, a gesture that felt both comforting and possessive. Together, they navigated the bustling crowd, Fang's presence parting the sea of patrons like a bow through waves. They reached their familiar spot in the VIP section, the table cleared of remnants of their earlier drinks.

As they settle into the plush booth, the feline waitress, Rebecca, appeared with a graceful stride. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the dim light as she inquired, "Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?"

"Gin, tonight," Fang grunted.

Kev, still mesmerized by the music, smiled up at Rebecca. "I'll have a Cape Cod, please."

A flicker of confusion crossed Rebecca's face. "A Cape Cod?" she echoed, her brow furrowing slightly. "I'm not familiar with that one."

"Dale will know how to make it," Kev assured her. "Thanks, Rebecca."

Her face lit up at the mention of her name, a shy smile gracing her lips. "Of course, Kev," she replied, her voice soft and melodious. She quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving Kev and Fang to enjoy the ambiance.

The music swelled, filling the room with a vibrant energy. Asmodeus, tonight leading a small orchestra, conducted the musicians with a flourish, his flamboyant movements mirroring the passion in his music. Kev closes his eyes, letting the melodies wash over him. The blend of wind instruments, strings, and horns created a rich, almost big band sound that set his heart racing. It was a far cry from the melancholic piano solos of the previous night, but no less captivating.

Dale, a tray balanced expertly on one hand, approached their table with a knowing smirk. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice a mix of amusement and gentle mockery. "It's been three years, eight months, and fifteen days since you last took some time off, Fang. What's the big occasion?"

Kev's eyes widened in surprise. At first, he thought Dale was joking, pulling numbers out of thin air for dramatic effect. But then he remembered the bartender's uncanny ability to recall every customer's drink order, even after years.

Fang snatched his gin from the tray, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. "I have a social life, Dale," he grumbled, his voice a low growl. "I don't tell you everything."

Dale's smirk widened. "As your reluctant personal journal, I think I'd know," he countered playfully. He placed Kev's Cape Cod on the table with a wink. "Enjoy, Kev. And good luck keeping up with this one." He nodded towards Fang before turning and heading back to the bustling bar.

Another slipped away in a comfortable haze of conversation and shared laughter. Kev, buoyed by the alcohol and Fang's undivided attention, found himself drawn to the wolfman in a way he hadn't been with anyone before. However, as the night deepened, and the crowd began to thin, disappearing down the side hallways to the private areas, Fang glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's getting late, Kev," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice. "You should probably head to bed."

Kev, who had been dreading this moment, took a deep breath. He'd been thinking about it all night, the stolen kisses in the car, the lingering touches, the undeniable attraction that crackled between them. He knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"Or," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "you could come up to my room."

Fang's amber eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat. The invitation hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desires and unspoken fears. He wanted nothing more than to accept, to spend the rest of the night wrapped in Kev's embrace, exploring the depths of their connection. But the club, his life's work, called to him. He couldn't simply abandon it, not when there were still patrons enjoying themselves, not when there were potential problems lurking in the shadows.

"I... I don't know, Kev," he stammered, his voice betraying his inner conflict. "I should really stay here, make sure everything runs smoothly."

Kev reached onto the table, his hand gently covering Fang's. "I understand," he said, his voice soft but firm. "But I also know you need to rest. You've been working nonstop, and it's taking a toll on you."

He paused, his gaze meeting Fang's. "Please, come with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with a longing that mirrored Fang's own. "Just for a few hours. Let me take care of you."

A blush crept onto Fang's cheeks, a rare sight that betrayed his inner turmoil. He abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor with a jarring sound. "I... I should check on the back of the house," he mumbled, his voice a mix of embarrassment and reluctance. "Make sure everything's running smoothly."

Kev watched him go, a wave of disappointment washing over him. He'd hoped Fang would accept his invitation, that they could finally explore the connection that had been simmering between them. But it seemed the wolfman's dedication to his club, his sense of duty, outweighed his personal desires.

Kev sighed, a heavy weight settling in his chest. He was beginning to understand why everyone kept telling him to keep Fang calm, to help him relax. The wolfman was clearly driven, a workaholic who pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion. Kev worried that if Fang didn't learn to take a break, to prioritize his own well-being, he might eventually burn out.

With a heavy heart, Kev made his way back to his apartment. He lit a cigarette, the familiar ritual offering a small comfort in the face of his disappointment. As he inhaled the smoke, he couldn't help but think about Fang, about the warmth of his touch and the longing in his eyes.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, the silver case gleaming in the moonlight. He took off his watch and climbed into bed, the soft sheets a welcome embrace. But sleep didn't come easily. The image of Fang, alone in the bustling club, haunted his thoughts. He knew he had to find a way to help the wolfman, to break through his self-imposed isolation and show him that there was more to life than just work.