Club Fang

As the head of security departed, Fang's Bloody Mary arrived, a vibrant concoction of red and green that mirrored the energy of the club around them. He took a long, satisfying gulp, the spicy tomato juice a welcome contrast to the sweetness of his earlier breakfast.

Kev, still a bit unsettled by Rex's advances, shifted in his seat. "I'm surprised the head of security would... you know, get me drugs," he said, his voice hesitant.

Fang's gaze softened, a hint of understanding in his amber eyes. "This club is a hidden paradise, Kev," he explained. "Within these walls, people are free to indulge their desires, explore their fantasies, without fear of judgment or reprisal. As long as they follow the rules, of course."

"What kind of rules?" Kev asked, genuinely curious.

Fang's lips curled into a sly smile. "There are a few," he admitted, "but the most important one is no fighting. Or rather," he corrected himself, "no non-consensual fighting."

He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Rex is a natural fighter," he continued. "He's never lost a match in the ring, not since he started working here. It's a part of who he is, a part of his... appeal."

Kev nodded slowly, recalling the tigerman's imposing physique and predatory aura. "That's impressive," he admitted, though a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of Rex's fighting prowess. He'd seen some of the other beastmen in the club - a massive rhinoceros, a burly grizzly bear bouncer - and Rex, despite his size, seemed to hold his own amongst them.

Fang swirled the remaining liquid in his glass, a contemplative look in his eyes. "Rex is an inspiration to the rest of the security team," he explained. "They know that if things get out of hand, he's there to back them up. It gives them a sense of confidence, a feeling of safety, which is crucial in a place like this."

"It's still a bit odd that he's the one bringing me weed," Kev remarked, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Not a bad thing, just... weird."

Fang chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the booth. "Well, if the head of security brings it, at least you know it's pure," he said with a wink.

Kev stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Your staff all seem so... impressive," he observed, his gaze sweeping across the barroom. "Everyone seems to know exactly what they're doing."

Fang beamed, his chest swelling with pride. "We're one of the biggest attractions in town," he declared, his voice booming with confidence. "That is, if you're lucky enough to be on the invite list."

Just then, Horns appeared, navigating the crowd with his usual lumbering gait. Fang spotted him and waved him over. "Horns!" he called out, his voice carrying easily across the room. "Come join us for a bit."

Horns, a look of relief washing over his tired features, gratefully accepted the invitation. He slid into the booth beside Kev, his large frame taking up most of the space. "Anything I can do for you, boss?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

"Just relax for a few minutes," Fang replied, gesturing towards the empty glasses on the table. "Have a drink with us."

Horns smiled gratefully. "Thanks, boss. I've been running around like a headless chicken since I dropped off those books for Kev."

"Books?" Fang inquired, his tone softening as he addressed the human.

"They seem interesting," Kev replied, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. "They're all about the city and its history. Looks like I've got a lot of reading to catch up on."

Horns chuckled. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little scholar," he teased, nudging Kev playfully with his elbow.

Kev laughed. "Hardly," he protested. "I haven't even had a chance to open them yet."

Fang finished his Bloody Mary and signaled the waitress for another. "Horns," he said, turning to his manager, "you've done an excellent job taking care of Kev today. Is there anything you need? Any requests or concerns?"

Horns leaned back, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Just stop firing the staff on such short notice," he said, his voice light but carrying a hint of seriousness. "It makes my job a lot harder."

Fang's good mood evaporated, replaced by a flash of irritation. "She stole from me, Horns," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You know the rules."

"It could have been docked from her paycheck," Horns countered, his tone calm but firm. "Or she could have worked extra shifts to pay it back. There was no need to terminate her employment outright."

Fang's jaw clenched. "You know the rules, Horns," he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "No fighting, no rape, no stealing. One strike, and you're out. It's not that hard to understand."

Horns sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with Fang when he was in this mood. "I know, boss," he conceded. "It's just... frustrating."

He paused, taking a sip of his drink. "It's just a minor inconvenience, though," he added, trying to appease Fang. "We'll manage."

Fang's expression softened as he looked at Horns. "I truly appreciate you helping Kev out today," he said sincerely. "He's new to all this, and I want to make sure he feels welcome and supported."

Horns waved a dismissive hand. "Think nothing of it, boss," he replied with a chuckle. "Besides, you've already taken care of my family. I couldn't ask for more."

A warm smile spread across Fang's face. "That's why you're my second-in-command, Horns," he said, his voice filled with genuine affection. "Loyalty and dedication are hard to come by these days."

Kev listened to their exchange, a sense of curiosity piqued. It was clear that Fang and Horns shared a deep bond, a history that went far beyond their professional relationship. He wondered what Fang had done for Horns' family, what act of kindness or generosity had earned him such unwavering loyalty.

Before Kev could delve deeper into his thoughts, a familiar figure approached their table. Rex, the imposing tigerman, sauntered back into the VIP section, a small pouch clutched in his hand. He tossed it onto the table with a flourish, a smug grin on his face.

Horns greeted Rex with a nod, a hint of weariness in his eyes. "Rex," he acknowledged, his voice carrying a subtle undertone of disapproval. "Couldn't find me, so you had to go digging in the safe, did you?"

Rex shrugged, his grin unwavering. "Couldn't find you anywhere, big guy," he replied, his gaze shifting to Kev. "And the little human here was getting impatient." He winked at Kev, his predatory charm on full display.

Horns turned to Kev, his brow furrowed in concern. "You ran out already?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Fang interjected, his tone light but laced with a touch of possessiveness. "Kev's still getting used to the club's... unique atmosphere," he explained. "He left it up in his room."

A soft smile played on Fang's lips as he looked at Kev. He found the human's reserved nature endearing, a refreshing contrast to the hedonistic abandon of most of his patrons. There was an innocence about Kev, a vulnerability that stirred a protective instinct within him. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time, and it both intrigued and excited him.

"Thanks, Rex," Kev said, a hint of gratitude in his voice despite the tigerman's earlier advances.

"Anytime, little guy," Rex replied, his gaze lingering on Kev for a moment too long. He turned to Fang, his demeanor shifting to one of professionalism. "Your guests have arrived, boss. They're going through the checkpoints now."

Fang nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Good work, Rex," he said, his voice carrying a note of approval. "Hang around for a bit. We might need you later."

Rex nodded and settled into the booth, his presence a silent but imposing reminder of the club's security measures.

Horns, meanwhile, had taken the bag of weed from the table and was expertly rolling a joint. Kev watched in fascination, impressed by the mooseman's dexterity. His large, calloused hands seemed ill-suited for such delicate work, yet he handled the task with surprising finesse.

"So," Horns asked, lighting the joint and taking a deep drag, "who are these guests Fang's so eager to entertain?"

"I invited Warlock over to discuss some business and have a drink," Fang explained. "He's a powerful figure in the city, and his influence could be beneficial to the club."

Horns, after taking a second long drag from the joint, carefully rolled another one and passed it to Kev. "Here you go," he said with a friendly smile. "Enjoy."

Rex leaned forward, his keen eyes observing the entrance. "Whoever this Warlock is, he didn't bring much of a crew with him," he noted, a hint of suspicion in his voice. He flexed his paw, and for a fleeting moment, razor-sharp claws extended from his fingertips before retracting back into their sheaths. "Just two bodyguards, from what we can tell."

Horns raised an eyebrow, curious. "What kind of business does this fellow do?" he inquired.

Fang took a thoughtful puff from his cigarette. "He works in information," he replied cryptically. "He knows things, secrets that others would pay dearly for."

He paused, a glint of ambition flashing in his eyes. "This is a high-stakes deal, Horns," he continued, his voice low and intense. "Probably the biggest one we've ever done."

Horns, sensing the gravity of the situation, nodded slowly. He waved Dale over, signaling for his presence. The bartender, ever attentive, hurried over, his practiced smile firmly in place.

Dale arrived at the table, balancing a tray laden with fresh drinks. "What's this then?" he inquired, his eyebrows raised in amusement. "A party in the wolf den?"

Fang leaned forward, his voice serious, cutting though the horse-man's jovial tone. "Dale, I'm going to need your help with some bartending soon."

Dale glanced back at the bar, where patrons were already nursing their drinks. "Yeah, that's what I do," he replied with a shrug. "Pour drinks and listen to people's problems."

Horns snorted. "More like pour drinks and laugh at people's problems," he quipped, earning a playful nudge from Dale.

Fang ignored their banter. "Get someone to cover this room," he instructed. "I need you to work the VIP room in the West Wing. We have a guest coming, and I'd like you to... hear the conversation."

Dale's smirk faded, replaced by a look of cautious curiosity. "I'm not your audio recorder, Fang," he said, his voice low.

Fang's grin widened, a hint of menace in his eyes. "Yes, you are," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Dale let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "Fine, fine," he conceded, "I'll be ready in ten minutes." He distributed the fresh drinks, his expert hands ensuring not a drop was spilled, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Kev sipped his drink, his curiosity piqued by the cryptic exchange. He remained silent, however, sensing that Fang was purposefully keeping them in the dark. He was beginning to understand the intricacies of this world, where information was a valuable commodity, and secrets were carefully guarded.

Horns, after a few moments of contemplative silence, announced, "I need to take a leak." He stood up, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the table.

Kev, lost in his thoughts, absently ashed his joint into the ornate ashtray. Rex, ever vigilant, rose from his seat. "Boss," he said, his voice a low rumble, "would you like me to escort your guests in, or would you prefer to greet them personally?"

Fang considered the question for a moment. "Bring them to Dale in the West Wing," he instructed. "Let them have a drink and settle in for a few minutes. And make sure no other guests bother them." He paused, his gaze hardening. "This meeting is... delicate."

Rex nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. "Consider it done, boss," he said, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He disappeared into the crowd, his muscular form weaving through the tables with a feline grace.

With Rex and Horns gone, a comfortable silence settled over the table. Kev, emboldened by the shared intimacy of the previous night and the growing sense of camaraderie, ventured a question he'd been pondering.

"Are you nervous?" he asked, his voice soft but clear in the relative quiet of the VIP section.

Fang's gaze met his, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. It was an unexpected question, one that cut through the usual bravado and posturing he often employed. He took a deep breath, letting the truth slip past his lips.

"Yes," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "This isn't something I've been working on for a while. It's... a bit out of my comfort zone."

He studied Kev's face, noting the genuine concern in his eyes. The human's kindness, his willingness to see past Fang's tough exterior, was both disarming and strangely comforting. It was a reminder that even in this world of primal instincts and hidden desires, there was still room for genuine connection.

"You'll do great," Kev assured him, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "I can tell you're passionate about this club. That passion will shine through."

Fang took another sip of his drink, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his chest. "I certainly hope so," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He reached across the table, his large hand gently squeezing Kev's. "Thank you, Kev. For... everything."

Fang sipped the last of his drink and stood up, his towering form casting a long shadow across the table. "Come," he said to Kev, extending a hand. "It's time."

Kev, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within him, took Fang's hand and followed him into the heart of the bustling club. The crowd had thickened considerably since their arrival, a vibrant tapestry of beastmen and beastwomen, their laughter and chatter creating a symphony of sound. The air hummed with energy, a palpable anticipation hanging in the air.