"I could go for a drink," Kev offered, his voice carefully neutral. "All this excitement has got me a bit anxious." He glanced at Fang, gauging his reaction.
Fang's gaze softened as he looked at Kev, the fierce intensity in his eyes slowly fading. "Horns," he said, turning to his manager, "you dealt with the situation admirably. You've proven yourself once again."
Horns stood up, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Glad to see you've calmed down a bit, boss," he said, patting Fang's shoulder reassuringly. "I'll get back to work now. Make sure the staff is informed that the white rabbit is not allowed on the premises. And if he's spotted, they should inform you directly."
Fang's eyes flashed with a renewed determination. "Good," he growled, his voice still carrying a hint of menace.
Then, his gaze softened as he turned back to Kev. "Kev," he said, his voice a low rumble, "let's get you that drink."
Fang's arm remained draped protectively over Kev's shoulders as they navigated the bustling club. Kev felt the wolfman's muscles tense beneath his touch, a subtle reminder of the simmering anger that still lurked beneath the surface. Every so often, Fang would shoot a warning growl at a patron who dared to brush too close or stare too long at Kev. It was clear that the incident with the city enforcers had left him on edge, his protective instincts heightened.
Kev couldn't blame him. Though he still had limited knowledge of Fang's ongoing battles with the city, this latest incident seemed to have crossed a line. The attempt to arrest Kev, a blatant act of intimidation and aggression, had struck a nerve, a violation of Fang's sanctuary and a threat to someone he cared about.
As they reached the bar, Kev felt a surge of empathy for Fang. The weight of responsibility, the constant struggle to protect his club and his people, must be immense. He silently vowed to do whatever he could to help Fang navigate these troubled waters, to offer a haven of peace amidst the storm.
Dale, ever the attentive bartender, appeared at their side with two fresh drinks. He placed them on the table with a practiced flourish, his keen eyes taking in the tension that still lingered in Fang's posture.
"Heard a bit of what happened out there," Dale remarked, his voice low and gravelly. "Sounds like those city boys are getting bolder."
Fang nodded grimly, taking a long swig of his drink. He settled into the plush booth beside Kev, his arm instinctively draping over the human's shoulders. "Dale," he began, his voice a low rumble, "we've known each other a long time."
Dale met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. He nodded slowly, his expression serious. "We have, boss," he acknowledged, pulling up a chair and sitting across from them.
Dale, despite his age, was a formidable figure, his broad shoulders and muscular build rivaling even Horns' impressive stature. His keen eyes, honed by years of observing the club's clientele, scanned Fang's face, waiting for the wolfman to elaborate.
Fang drained his glass in one swift motion, the amber liquid disappearing down his throat with a satisfying burn. He slammed the empty tumbler onto the table, his gaze fixed on Dale.
"You were right there," he accused, pointing towards the bar with his now-empty glass. "Did you see Kev get taken?"
Dale held Fang's gaze, his expression unwavering. "No, boss," he replied calmly. "Just after that fight broke out, I had three women come up and order drinks all at once. The first one wanted a Manhattan, the second a double shot of tequila with lime, and the third ordered a Fuzzy Navel. They even gave me a hard time about not writing their orders down, and said they wouldn't pay if I messed them up."
Fang cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I don't need the details, Dale," he said, his voice a low growl. "The point is, you were distracted."
He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You're my most powerful weapon in this establishment, Dale. And I need my weapons to remain sharp." He paused, his gaze piercing. "If you'd gotten a good look at that rabbit, we'd have a nice, clear picture of him right now."
Dale's jaw tightened, a flicker of defiance crossing his face. "I'm not your camera, Fang," he retorted, his voice firm but respectful.
"Yes, you are," Fang insisted, his tone brooking no argument.
Dale sighed, a weary resignation settling over him. He turned to Kev, his expression softening. "Mind if I bum a smoke, kid?" he asked, his voice gruff but gentle.
Kev, happy to offer a peace offering, slid his new cigarette case across the table. Dale selected a cigarette, its slender form dwarfed by his large, calloused hand. He lit it with a practiced flick of his lighter, inhaling deeply.
"This is the first time there's been an attempted arrest since I started working here," Dale remarked, his gaze fixed on the swirling smoke. "Things are usually kept... discreet."
Fang nodded grimly. "That's why I need you sharp, Dale," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Things are escalating, and I don't want any more mishaps. Regardless of who that rabbit was, or what his motives were, we need to seal the deal with the mafia. Their protection is more important now than ever."
"We have a few more days until those VIPs arrive," Dale reminded Fang, a hint of concern in his voice. "And then it'll be another few days or weeks before everything's said and done. That's a lot of time for things to go wrong."
Fang chewed on a piece of ice, the crunching sound echoing in the quiet booth. "Which is why you're going to be vital in the coming days, Dale," he said, his gaze intense. "I need you to be extra vigilant, to report anything suspicious, no matter how small."
Dale chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the booth. "Now you're just trying to flatter me, boss," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.
Fang's lips twitched into a half-smile, but his eyes remained serious. "I'm not in the mood for jokes tonight, Dale," he warned, his voice a low growl.
Dale's grin faded, replaced by a look of understanding. "You rarely are," he admitted, his tone softening. "That's why I have to bring some levity to the conversation. Keeps you from brooding too much."
Fang took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Just... keep an eye on Kev, will you?" he asked, his gaze shifting to the human beside him. "I don't want him getting caught in the crossfire."
Dale stubbed out his cigarette, a serious expression on his face. "Of course, boss," he replied. "I've been keeping an eye on him, and I'll try even harder now that he's been targeted."
He stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the table. "I'll send over another drink for you, Fang," he offered. "Something to help you unwind."
"Get back to work, Dale," Fang said with a grateful nod.
Dale grinned and headed back to the bar, leaving Fang and Kev alone once more.
Kev, sensing the lingering tension in Fang's posture, decided to try and shift his focus. "Do you still want to show me the nightly entertainment?" he asked, hoping to distract Fang and offer a brief respite from his worries.
Fang's gaze remained fixed on the bustling crowd, his eyes scanning the room with a predatory intensity. "Not tonight, Kev," he replied, his voice a low growl. "I need to... think."
Kev watched as Fang continued to observe the patrons, his jaw clenched, his muscles coiled tight. It was clear that the incident with Bryan had shaken him, leaving him on edge and wary. Kev couldn't blame him. The threat to his club, to his sanctuary, was a serious one, and the attempted abduction of Kev had only heightened his sense of vulnerability.
After a few minutes of tense silence, a familiar figure emerged from the kitchen. Reepia, her apron still stained with the remnants of her culinary creations, strode purposefully towards their table. She slid into the seat across from them, her sharp eyes fixed on Kev.
"You're causing too many issues, human," she declared, her voice a raspy growl. She lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around her face like a veil of disapproval.
"Reepia, not tonight," Fang said, his voice a warning growl.
But the head chef wasn't deterred. "I'm not talking to you, Fang," she retorted, her gaze burning into Kev. "I'm talking to him."
She took a long, angry drag from her cigarette, her eyes narrowing. "First, you want to mess with my staff's schedule, and now you cause a scene with the enforcers." Smoke billowed from her nostrils as she spoke, her frustration palpable.
"There are a lot of words I'd like to say to you right now, boy," she continued, her voice rising in volume, "but that sappy dog over there would probably get upset." She shot a pointed look at Fang, who remained silent, his jaw clenched.
Kev, though intimidated by Reepia's outburst, couldn't help but retort with a hint of defiance, "Looks like you forgot your kitchen knives, Chef."
Her glare intensified. "Watch it, boy," she warned, her voice low and menacing. "They're not far away."
Kev held her gaze, his own resolve hardening. "I won't apologize for either the schedule change or the incident with the enforcers," he said, his voice steady. "Not to you. I've already discussed both with Fang."
Reepia hissed at Kev.
Fang, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and concern, finally spoke up. "Reepia," he said, his voice calm but firm, "if one of your cooks got dragged off for having a drink or smoking weed, what would you do?"
Reepia's scowl deepened as she turned to face Fang, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell happened, Fang?" she demanded, her voice sharp with concern.
Fang's expression hardened. "We'll find out," he said, his voice a low growl. "But if I had been there, you'd be grilling rabbit tonight."
A flicker of amusement crossed Reepia's face. "Good thing you weren't then," she retorted with a wry smile. "Rabbit's best in a stew, slow-cooked with plenty of herbs and spices."
Fang chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the booth. "Make sure you keep those knives sharp, Reepia," he said, his tone playful but with an underlying edge. "We might need them."
Reepia stubbed out her cigarette, a determined glint in her eyes. "I'm not looking forward to that meeting tomorrow," she muttered, her voice a low grumble. "But I'll be there, ready to fight for my kitchen."
With a final nod to Fang and Kev, she turned and marched back towards the kitchen, her apron flapping behind her like a battle flag.
Kev drained the last of his Cape Cod, the tart sweetness a welcome contrast to the smoky atmosphere of the club. He glanced at his watch, its silver face gleaming faintly in the torchlight. It was one in the morning, the club still buzzing with energy, but a sense of weariness had settled over him.
He looked up at Fang, who seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the dancers swirling on the floor. "It's getting late," Kev said softly, his voice barely audible above the music. "Would you like to come up to my room tonight?"
Fang's body stiffened, his muscles tensing beneath Kev's touch. He turned to face the human, his amber eyes filled with a mixture of longing and conflict.
"Kev," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I want to. More than anything. But I'm... I'm too tense right now. I can't relax, not with everything that's happened. I need to go down to the security check point and talk to Lanon to figure out how Bryan got on the invite list"
Kev reached out, his hand gently resting on Fang's arm. "I understand," he said, his voice soothing. "I'm a bit on edge myself... But it would be nice to have some company up there. It's usually so quiet."
Fang's gaze softened, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. He looked around the club, the familiar sights and sounds a comforting distraction from his troubled thoughts. But the weight of responsibility, the lingering anger from the earlier incident, still clung to him like a heavy cloak.
"I'll walk you up to your room, at least," he offered, his voice a low rumble. "Make sure you're safe."
Fang's hand rested lightly on Kev's lower back as they ascended the grand staircase, a silent gesture of protection and affection. The club's energy throbbed beneath their feet, a stark contrast to the hushed stillness of the upper floors.
At Kev's door, the human turned, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Come in," he invited, his voice soft. "Have a glass of water before you head back to work."
Fang hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. The desire to accept Kev's invitation warred with his sense of duty, his need to be present for his club, his people. He took a deep breath, a silent struggle playing out on his face.
Then, with a suddenness that surprised even himself, he pulled Kev close, his arms encircling the human's waist. "Kev," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper, "come here."
Their lips met in a passionate kiss, the world outside the door fading away. Kev melted into Fang's embrace, his hands finding their way to the wolfman's fur, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. Fang deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring Kev's mouth with a hunger that had been simmering all night.
But just as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Fang pulled away, his gaze searching Kev's face. "If I lost you tonight I… I don't know what I would have done," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with both desire and regret. "Good night my… assistant… Make sure to lock your door, so I don't worry."
He gave Kev one last, lingering look, his eyes filled with a wistful longing, before turning and heading back down the stairs.
Kev closed the door behind him, a sigh escaping his lips. He leaned against the cool wood, his heart still pounding from the unexpected kiss. He was turned down again, but that embrace had been everything, passionate, fierce, uninhibited. Not a single doubt or fear existed in that moment, just Fang.
As Kev climbed into bed, the soft sheets a welcome embrace, he couldn't help but replay the events of the night in his mind. The new clothes, learning the workers don't have days off, the near-arrest, the tense confrontation with the city enforcers, the unexpected intimacy with Fang... it had been a rollercoaster of emotions. But despite the challenges, Kev felt a sense of hope. He was starting to understand this new world, to find his place in it. And most importantly, he was beginning to understand the enigmatic wolfman who had captured his heart.