The mood was light and relaxed as they made their way back into the barroom. Kev craned his neck, trying to get a look at the dance floor. The room was packed, large beastmen and women reveling in the anachronistic atmosphere. Allowing himself to be led to the usual booth, he couldn't help but notice Gretchen, the black panther woman, had a slight grin on her face as she watched the dance floor too. Kev followed her line of sight, and his body nearly shuddered. There was Rex.
He was a whirlwind of orange and black stripes and flailing limbs, a massive, uncoordinated beacon of pure, drugged-out joy in the center of the dance floor. A huge, goofy smile was plastered on his face. He was surrounded by a laughing, encouraging circle of other dancers, both men and women, who took turns grinding against his powerful, gyrating form. He was terrible, utterly devoid of rhythm, but he moved with an uninhibited, raw energy that was somehow infectious.
Kev shook his head. "Quite the sight, isn't it?" he said to the bouncer.
"He's got great endurance, but his rhythm needs some work," Gretchen said dryly, her green eyes critically assessing the scene. "If he learned to point his toes, maybe he'd have something."
Kev was a bit confused and lacked a response; the panther's observation was much more nuanced than he expected.
"Dancing is good for mobility," Talon said, taking his position next to Gretchen. She looked over at him and nodded. "Great for cardio too," she agreed. "Uses all sorts of different muscles."
Kev let Fang pull him along, not knowing what to add to their literal considerations of Rex's dancing.
As Kev turned, he nearly bumped into Fang, who had stopped abruptly. There, in their VIP booth, sat Lanon and the zebra woman, Marsha.
"What are you doing, Lanon?" Fang asked, his voice low as he stood at the edge of the table.
"Oh, we are just here to enjoy our time," Lanon said with a smile.
Fang frowned and looked at Kev. "Kev, my love, I think it might be time for you to go to bed."
The excitement, the joy of the night, drained out of Kev as he heard those words, but before he could protest, Lanon spoke.
"Oh, Fang, it's not time for our talk. Come, come," Lanon gestured at the booth, "and Kev, you too. I'd be remiss if you two were separated for my sake."
Fang growled, "Lanon, what is this about?"
"Sit," Lanon said a bit more firmly, "unless there is some reason you are avoiding me." Kev felt Fang's grip tighten for just a second before he let Kev go and sat in the booth across from the iguana and zebra. Kev slid in next to him.
Lanon looked between Kev and Fang, his forked tongue tasting the air. "So," he said finally, "what was the breakthrough?"
Fang looked away.
"What do you mean?" Kev asked.
"Fang," Lanon said, his voice a low purr, "I asked you a question."
Fang looked back at Lanon and said, "We are not having one of our meetings."
Lanon laughed and said, "Who knew a wolf could be shy? Regardless, this is so wonderful. Isn't love wonderful, Ms. Marsha?"
The zebra woman smiled and playfully swatted at Lanon. "Don't put me on the spot like this, Lanon." She turned and extended a manicured hand to Fang. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fang."
Fang took her hand and gently touched his muzzle to it. "Ms. Marsha, you are stunning. What has Lanon done to deserve your distinguished company tonight?"
The zebra woman blushed and said, "I was actually asked to send him an invitation, but he's such a good listener, and..." she giggled.
"Marsha here is a model," Lanon put his arm around her. "Our dear friend Marybelle is displaying her new collection tomorrow and has extended an invitation to us."
The name Marybelle instantly sent an image of the intense gecko woman through Kev's mind: how she had yelled at him for suggesting a fabric, how she had worked with such focused intensity and made him a complete suit in less than an hour. He subconsciously felt at the sleeve of his own suit, the fine material a testament to her skill.
"Oh, please, Mr. Fang," Ms. Marsha said while batting her eyes, "Marybelle is going to be so sad if you don't go."
Fang roared with laughter. "Sad? Oh, you must know her better than that."
Marsha blushed and coyly said, "She told me to say that."
Lanon also erupted in laughter. "Oh, that's so true."
Kev leaned into Fang and said, "It would be nice to support Marybelle. These outfits she made me are really comfortable."
"Oh, she made you those?" Marsha said, leaning in and feeling Kev's collar. "I should have noticed earlier."
Kev grinned and said, "My clothes aren't usually the first thing people notice about me."
"I didn't want to say anything about it," Marsha giggled.
"Oh, he is quite exotic, isn't he?" Lanon said. "A, what's the word? Unconventional partner for our unconventional boss."
"He's cute," Marsha said, smiling at Kev before once again turning to the wolf. "Oh, please, Mr. Fang, bring him along tomorrow. It will be fun."
"I'm a very busy man, Ms. Marsha, and so is Lanon here," Fang said, raising an eyebrow at his director of public relations, "when he isn't fraternizing on the clock."
"Says the wolf who was in the hen house earlier," Lanon grinned.
Fang looked away again.
"Fang," Lanon said slowly, "you were in the hen house earlier, yes?"
"We don't have chickens here," Fang said, still avoiding Lanon's eye.
"I meant that you consummated your relationship with Kev while you were in the west wing earlier tonight," Lanon said, rising from the booth and placing his hands on the table. The shirtless iguana man leaned in, staring unblinkingly at Fang, his golden necklaces swaying over the table.
"What the hell?" Fang said, his ears flicking back. "This... this isn't one of our meetings," he sputtered.
"Fang, this is getting ridiculous," Lanon said, his eyes boring into Fang.
"You're crossing a line, Lanon," Fang said before looking down at Kev and urgently saying, "I think it is best if you go to bed. It seems Lanon is a bit drunk."
"Fang," Lanon hissed, "we've talked about this. If you don't go up with him right now, then you're following me back to my office and we are talking."
"You do not tell me what to do!" Fang roared, but his fury quickly dissipated again when he caught Lanon's eye.
Lanon stood up straight and crossed his arms. "Ms. Marsha, I apologize, but it seems like our night together ends here."
Marsha quickly stood and nodded, not wanting to stay near the raging wolf. "Thank you, and I'll see you tomorrow," she said before departing.
Kev stewed in his own seat, embarrassment warring with something else, his chest felt tight. Lanon was out of line asking a question like that to Fang, but... Kev was frustrated. How many times did he think that Fang and he would... would take their relationship to a different level? Being able to call Fang his boyfriend earlier only seemed to amplify these feelings. He would love Fang if Fang had no sexual urges but, he knew that Fang did. The way they kissed, the way Fang held him, in the car, in the VIP booth, even in those rare moments Fang would come into his apartment... but Fang pulled away every time.
"Have you made your decision, Fang?" Lanon asked coldly.
Fang looked between the iguana and Kev, his eyes filled with shame. "I need to talk with Reepia about the menu for the VIP dinner in two nights. We can talk later." Fang stood and reached for Kev, pulling him into a hug.
"You can come to my room any time, Fang," Kev whispered, "I'm yours."
Kev felt Fang's breath hitch before the wolfman quickly departed without another word, disappearing into the kitchen.
"Look what you did," Kev said to Lanon, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "We were having a great night, and you had to go and be weird."
Lanon, who had watched Fang's hasty retreat, turned back to Kev. "I've done nothing but ask questions," he stated, his voice cool and analytical. "Can you not see that if a question causes this much distress, there is something wrong?" Lanon did not look back at Kev as he left, heading back towards the west wing.
Kev sat at the table alone, Lanon's words ringing in his ears. Kev sighed and stood. It seemed like he might as well go to bed; his night was over. As he began to walk towards Talon to tell him they were free to head upstairs, a furry hand tapped him on the shoulder.
Kev turned. "Oh, Rebecca, what's up?"
She looked panicked. "I didn't see you two come back, I'm so sorry, I should have come over sooner," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "And I just saw Mr. Fang walk into the kitchen, is... is he..." Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned abruptly. "I, I'll just leave."
Kev reached out and grabbed her hand. "Wait, Rebecca."
She stopped and turned back to him, her feline features scrunched in sorrow.
"Please, tell me what's going on," Kev said, his voice gentle. "You've been on edge all night. You haven't been acting like yourself."
Rebecca looked around before wailing and falling onto Kev's shoulders. "Oh, Mr. Kev, I don't know what to do."
Kev reached up and hesitantly patted her back. He hadn't expected this.
"Mr. Fang... he... he... he..." she stuttered, having a hard time controlling her breathing. "...he gave me a 12,000-dollar tip last night."
Kev's eyes shot open. "He what?"
"I don't know what it means! Is it some sort of test? Am I supposed to give it back?" she wailed. "Or would it be rude if I gave it back? I really need this job!"
Kev hugged her back firmly. "Rebecca," he said, "I know this is going to sound really dumb, but he probably didn't even realize he gave you that much money."
She sniffed. "So I should just give it back?"
Kev laughed and said, "That's not what I meant. You should keep it."
She pulled back and looked in Kev's eyes. "You're not joking, are you?"
"No, I wouldn't joke about this when you're upset," Kev said. "If you need more convincing, please ask Cindy. She should be back tonight, right?"
Rebecca nodded her head, her eyes still red.
Kev said, "Go right now. I can tell you won't be able to think about anything else until you've dealt with this."
Rebecca sniffed and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Kev." She turned and scurried away.
Kev grinned, thinking about Fang slapping that tip down on the table the previous night. He had no idea that those were all 4,000-dollar bills.
"Well," Kev thought, "that explained one of the night's mysteries." He walked over to Talon and Gretchen. "Hey Talon, we can head up to bed now, I guess."
Talon looked over. "Where is Mr. Fang?"
Kev sighed and said, "He's off with his true love, the club."
Talon nodded.
"Thanks for keeping things safe tonight, Gretchen," Kev said to the panther woman, who merely nodded at him before once again casting her gaze on the dance floor.
Kev grinned. He looked too, wanting to get one more memory of Rex dancing. There on the dance floor, Rex looked nearly the same as earlier, big, goofy grin, a crowd of other dancers, but this time Kev noticed his eyes. The lustful tiger's eyes looked full of distress. A pang of pity briefly passed through Kev, but he pushed it aside. Serves him right, he thought. That could have been me... if he wasn't an idiot.
Kev didn't have much to say to Talon as they walked back upstairs and could only muster up a "see you in the morning" before closing his door.
Kev stripped off his suit and lit a cigarette. His mind was still trying to decode Lanon's words. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was something wrong with Fang. He poured himself a glass of water and paced around, feeling restless still. When Kev finally went to bed, he tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep, his dreams an odd mixture of the Jungle Book and West Side Story.