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How hard could it be to find a black cat in the night? It might take one or two hours, right?
Wrong. Logan had been out for nearly six hours, and the sun had set four of those hours prior. And Logan didn’t even fucking know where he was. He was under a highway that ran over the arroyo. There weren’t even any highways within normal walking distance of his apartment! He’d walked at least ten miles in total, trying to get a good radius of his apartment, and ending up completely, miserably lost in the process. Stormy was probably sitting on the porch wondering where the fuck her human was.
Logan sighed and shook the container of cat treats again. He peered into a large crack under the overpass and was about to call out for Stormy when he realized what he was seeing.
A huge, underground club. Just. Underneath this random bridge. The neon blue sign read “The Overpass,” which was not only fitting but extremely cliché.
Curious, Logan edged his way inside and was greeted by a very intimidating bouncer who looked like she could rip his head off with two fingers. She snarled and said, “What the hell are you doing here? Are you a narc?”
Logan looked at the few people who were in line outside the club and compared them to his own appearance. He was dressed in jeans and a fleece jacket, and they all wore flowy neon clothes, eccentric hairstyles, and were sprinkled with fluorescent glitters of all colors, shapes, and sizes. He certainly looked like an outsider.
“N-no! I just found this place, and I--”
“You what?” she cut off harshly.
“I-I just--”
“Oh, Ellie,” cried a new voice from behind Logan. “They’re with me, silly! Must not have gotten the dress code.”
Logan turned and was face to face with a grinning man in green glitter. His mustache was twisted with his smile, and his green eyes seemed to glow under the blacklight. All in all, he was stunning, and he’d come to Logan’s rescue.
“Thank you.”
The man giggled and wrapped his hand around Logan’s middle. “Oh, it’s no problem, dearie!”
The bouncer was still glaring at Logan as she said, “You can’t seriously tell me that you brought this… outsider, Remus.”
“Oh, but I did! Please let us through, thank you!” The man, who was apparently named Remus, pushed past the very intense woman like she was a fly and dragged Logan into the club. They were immediately accosted by loud, booming music, and a pair of earplugs were pressed into Logan’s hand.
“For your own sake, newbie,” Remus explained with his Cheshire grin. “Wouldn’t want such a pretty human to lose their hearing on the first night. That’s more of a fifth-night thing.” He winked.
“Thank you,” Logan repeated like an idiot while inserting the earplugs.
“You’re so polite! Most people just want to rail me into oblivion when they see me, but you’re just so nice!”
Logan almost laughed at the bluntness of Remus. “Thank you?”
“It’s a compliment, um…”
Remus waved his hand towards Logan, so he supplied, “Logan. He/him.”
“Logan,” Remus said as though the word was going to grant wishes. “I’m Remus. Also he/him.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise. Would you like a drink?”
Logan shook his head, toying with the open front of Remus’ jacket. “No, I’d like to be sober for what I’m about to do.”
“Which is…?”
“Kiss you,” Logan breathed and surged forward. Their lips connected messily, but neither cared. They were too invested in the desperation and pleasure surging through them as they pressed inward. It was either seconds or hours later that they parted, completely disheveled and flustered.
“You have glitter… everywhere,” Remus pointed out.
“Good.” Logan leaned in for another kiss and decided that his cat could wait. He had more important business to attend to.