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The bar is musty in a way that can only be achieved by a concentrated amount of drunk college students, all fashioned in the cheapest, skimpiest Halloween costumes known to man. Dim lighting does nothing to hide stained floors and swollen wood furniture, the paint on the walls chipped and curling as if sprayed with acid. This place is a dump, even the drinks suck, but it’s the only bar that doesn’t look too closely at IDs, which is the only reason why Riyo keeps crawling back, night after night, like a toxic ex-girlfriend who doesn’t know when to quit.
In the far corner is an old, ratty booth with white fuzz spilling out of the cushion seams, which is where Riyo nurses a gin and tonic, heavy on the gin, while partaking in her favorite nighttime activity: people watching, Halloween edition.
Leaning against the bar is a slender man with tassel earrings rocking a slutty maid outfit, the layered skirts riding too high up his surprisingly supple thighs for public decency. He’s blushing like a firecracker under the gaze of his companion: a woman with platinum blonde hair in a fitted butler costume who’s tracing hearts into the bare skin around his plunged neckline. Her suit is modest, but it hugs her curves in all the right places, making it equally as sexy. The finishing blow comes when she rolls her sleeves up her forearms, muscles firm and defined, before unbuttoning her dress shirt just enough to tease her boy toy - a man who, for the record, is currently giggling into his fruity cocktail and weak in the knees. Fuck, that’s one lucky maid.
On the other side of the bar is a completely different story, one that Riyo would love to know the inner workings of: two men are completely on top of each other, though a more apt description would be that one is on the cusp of devouring the other. The victim in this scenario is someone Riyo is quite fond of: Jabber, a man with gorgeous purple eyes and dreadlocks that reach down his back.
He's a chill guy, except for when he's not. Riyo grabs beers with him a couple times a week when he's not playing the role of unofficial bouncer and picking fights with the most belligerent drunks in his immediate vicinity. That's how they first met, actually. Riyo was minding her own business to the best of her ability when some middle-aged businessman slid into her booth and got way too close for comfort. Within minutes, he was yanked out by his shoulder with a pop and thrown on the ground. What happened to him next is nothing Riyo will ever testify to because, as far as she's concerned, she saw nothing.
And that’s how Jabber waltzed into her life - with a bang, not a whisper. He eyed her cocktail and, upon learning that she's not technically old enough to drink, albeit by only six months, he ordered them a round of shots to celebrate her newfound “lost baggage” and told her to keep on fucking the system.
“You're not getting any younger and those bastards will never stop breathing down your neck, so lose your shit now while you still have the energy to get away with it.”
He's also bailed her out of jail before, but that's neither here nor there.
Each finger is adorned with his signature rings that look like heirlooms, which match perfectly with his fitted lace corset, skintight pants, and thigh-high boots. He bites down on his lip, fake vampire teeth and all, with the giddy smile of a man who won't have to wait long to get what he wants. Cornering him is a man in a cowboy costume with even longer hair, pale blond and navy blue, carrying more whips and ropes in his belt than should legally be allowed. He looks at Jabber beneath thick, sultry lashes, a bottomless hunger in his eyes that may never be filled. If she squints, Riyo thinks she can see a pair of fluffy handcuffs locked around his back belt loop. Sure, it's Halloween, but it's also a Tuesday for crying out loud.
For the record, Riyo's wearing cat ears and drew some whiskers on her face, a pathetic attempt that Jabber teased her over to no end earlier in the night. She's broke, though, so this is the best she could come up with.
The main event of the night is on center stage, crammed in the middle of the room by half-naked bodies, blaring music, and a severe lack of personal space. A woman, wearing the tightest Wonder Woman costume Riyo has ever seen, is running her fingers through her long, silky blonde hair with a scowl on her face, the kind that’s etched permanently into the corners of her mouth from overuse. She's tall, much taller than the majority of men here, with thighs that look as though they could crack watermelons in half without much trouble. More impressive than that are her arms - defined muscles with a tautness that extends up to her shoulders and around her back. Riyo, for the record, is not drooling.
(Except she is.)
It's a shame, though, to see her choice of companion standing next to her. Right now, she’s listening to the excuses of an expressionless (and costumeless) man dressed in black slacks, a black shirt, and a dark gray jacket with snowballing irritation. A vein of fury emerges from the woman’s forehead when her date checks his fancy watch and mutters something more to it than to her. From the looks of it, Riyo would say that he committed to do a couple’s costume with her, but then he either forgot or didn’t care enough to put the effort in, so now he’s acting as though she’s the problem by “overreacting.” Classic. Such typical behavior of stuck-up men who don’t even realize that their girlfriend is wayyyyy out of their league. What a loser.
Riyo’s not bitter or anything, it’s just that she’d never fumble a woman like that.
She’s about to take another sip of her drink when the man starts raising his voice, something about needing to leave right now, and Wonder Woman protests adamantly. She even stomps her foot down, the sound of which carries despite the overwhelming noise. When he grabs Wonder Woman by the wrist, yanking her halfway off her feet, and tries dragging her out, Riyo is already across the floor.
“Oh my God! Hey, girl!” Riyo exclaims, throwing her voice above the music, with a tap on the woman’s shoulder. The beginnings of a smirk are lying in wait along the edges of her lips. “It’s been foreverrrr! How are you?”
Wonder Woman looks at her with a confused sort of anger, but anger seems like a default setting on her face, so Riyo doesn’t take it personally. “Who-”
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me!” Riyo treads carefully as she closes in on them, the man’s grip tightening around the woman’s wrist at her approach. His eyes are darker than looking down the barrel of a loaded gun. How charming. “We met at the convenience store? I was looking for extra large tampons?”
The man lets go, disgust evident on his face, and Wonder Woman seems to have connected the dots. “Oh, right! Yes, I remember now!”
“Yeah, you really saved my ass that time! No surprise you’re Wonder Woman tonight - so fitting for you!”
The woman laughs, but it’s hollow, like a thin pane of glass. Behind her, the man is growing agitated and Riyo prays that she hasn’t accidentally said the wrong thing.
“Noerde, we have to leave,” he says, taking hold of her wrist once more. Even his voice is dark, kind of like he spends all his time in a bottomless pit and he only came out because his girlfriend begged him to… Actually, that’s most businessmen, but still!
The woman, Noerde, twists her hand out of his grasp and his gaze lingers on the spot where their connection broke. “I’m going to catch up with my friend here for a little. I’ll meet up with you later?”
His eyes narrow, untrusting, a wolf inspecting sheep disguised in the pelts of his own kind. “And her name is?”
“Oh, I’m-”
A large, calloused hand with several faded scars is raised in Riyo’s face before she can finish, eclipsing her view of him. “I’m asking Noerde. Not you. Refrain from speaking again.”
Clearly, it goes without saying that he’s a fun time at parties. A party animal, some might say. Riyo only has to know him for less than a minute and a half to piece that much together. Maybe if she’s lucky, he’ll stick around and force everyone here to use their indoor voices and get home by curfew.
Ugh.
See, this is why people in fancy watches and dress shoes shouldn’t be allowed in college town bars. They ruin the vibe just by being there.
“This is Cat,” Noerde says without missing a beat. “Short for Catherine.”
Riyo rolls her eyes at the amateur comedian in her midst and puts serious thought into tossing her dollar store cat ears in the trash. “Yeah. I’m Cat the cat, get it?”
Whether or not he gets it doesn’t matter one bit because, judging by the sharp look he gives her, he most certainly doesn’t find any of this even remotely funny. Honestly, he barely looks like he knows how to laugh, so much so that Riyo can’t help but think that he’s the kind of man who eerily chuckles at unfunny political comic strips in the morning paper. That, or whenever kids fall off their bikes in the park and skin their knees on hot pavement. Same thing, really.
Noerde scoffs, dropping her voice to a mutter. “More like a kitten.”
Well, damn. Is this the thanks Riyo gets for trying to help out another woman? Where’s the solidarity? The feminism? The girl’s girl attitude? Bitch.
Before Riyo can dismiss herself, Noerde continues. “Zodyl, I'm going to stay here for a bit and catch up with Cat. Meet up with you later?”
The man, Zodyl, stares at her with a stillness that feels alien amidst the surrounding chaos, but then he nods and Riyo can breathe easy again. He turns and passes through the sweaty, horny crowd, a sharp sting of cologne trailing behind in his wake.
“Bad vibes, that one,” Riyo says once he’s out of earshot, more to herself than to Noerde, but she doesn’t complain when Noerde sighs in response.
“He is… an intense man by nature.”
Now it’s Riyo’s turn to scoff. “Suuure. Keep telling yourself that.” She goes back to her booth and settles back in with her gin and tonic, the ice beginning to melt. Not much surprises Riyo these days, especially not men like Zodyl, but she’ll admit to being taken off guard when Noerde slides into the booth across from her and takes her drink, sipping it from the opposite side of the rim. “I can get you a drink, you know. Unless diluted gin is your thing.”
She can’t afford another drink, actually, but damn it she is determined to not fumble a woman this fine on her first shot. Also, she knows where Jabber keeps his wallet. Also also, the owner of this dump, Enjin, owes her a favor that probably amounts to a few hundred free drinks, so she’s not too concerned so long as Noerde doesn’t follow her up to the bar.
“Why would I need my own drink when I have yours?” On paper, it sounds like she’s flirting, but in reality it’s anything but - just a casual assertion of dominance that she enacts simply because she can. “After all, aren’t we friends?”
Kinda hot, not gonna lie. And just being Noerde’s not flirting doesn’t mean Riyo won’t be. She gets to have some fun in exchange for her stolen drink, right? “Wow, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've already taken a liking to me, Miss. Wonder Woman. Are you gonna take this kitty home with you tonight, or do I have to roll over and beg?”
The corners of Noerde’s mouth tilt ever so slightly in Riyo's favor. This is the part of the chase she loves most: the push and pull, finding out just how much they’re willing to give and take before devolving into greed. “In your dreams. Sorry, but I don't take in strays.”
“Oh come on now, it's Halloween. Isn't it tradition to give your local strays a few treats?”
A chuckle, not with Riyo, but at her. Noerde runs her fingers through a strand of her long, blonde hair and eyes her the way a predator might eye its prey. “Are you always this persistent?”
“I've been called charming before,” she replies with a lazy wave of her hand, emerald eyes sharp as daggers. “But I've also been called worse, so I'll settle for persistent if that’s what you want me to be.”
“Oh-ho,” Noerde says, leaning back in the booth and taking another sip from Riyo’s drink. “Well, aren’t you eager to please?”
“That’s one way to say it.”
“And another way would be…?”
Riyo smiles and cups her head in her hands. “I know what I want and I don’t like wasting time.”
“Pfft, now you’re starting to sound like Zodyl.” Noerde crosses her arms and looks to the side, but Riyo knows she has her full attention.
“Hey, now. I resent being compared to a guy like that. How’d someone like you end up with someone so… what was it… ‘intense by nature?’” The air quotes aren’t necessary, but Riyo provides them anyway since she’s such a good sport for remembering details about a slimy man.
Noerde twirls her drink from side to side, watching the condensation leave streaks on the table while the gears turn behind her eyes. “He’s all right. When he wants to be, that is. Not that it’s any of your business, little kitten.”
“Call me Riyo.”
“We’ll see,” Noerde says, smirking into her now half empty drink. “Maybe I’ll consider it later if you’re a good kitty for me.”
Riyo runs her tongue along the back of her teeth, not taking her eyes off the woman in front of her. “Is that a promise?”
“I am nothing if not a woman of my word.”
“Good. I’ll hold you to that.”
And she does. Over the next hour, with a few more drinks in their systems, Riyo introduces Noerde to her world of people watching. Would a good girl share her hobbies so freely with a woman she just met? No, of course not. Next question.
“That’s Zanka,” Riyo points out the maid by the bar who’s currently getting his face sucked out. Somehow, his skirt is hiked even higher up on his thighs. “Hyo is the sexy butler and she, like, owns his ass. He worships the ground she walks on.”
Noerde clicks her tongue. “With arms like those, who can blame him? The real question is whether or not they’re going to fuck in public, or will they be getting a room at some point?”
“Heh, they’ll get a room. Hyo might not look it right now, but she’s actually pretty reserved. Those two, on the other hand,” she groans, pointing across the bar to Jabber and his new boyfriend, Tamsy, whom Riyo is still on the fence about. “They might fuck over the counter while the bartender’s on break.”
“I wasn’t expecting drinks and a show.”
“Eh, you get used to it. Jabber, the hot one in the corset, he’s the kind of guy to let his partners have their way with him no matter the circumstance. A real bonafide masochist type, you know? Unfortunately, he keeps picking these sadist guys with exhibitionist tendencies, so I’m always catching him with his ass out. Literally.” If she’s being honest with herself, which admittedly isn’t her forte, Riyo wishes that for once Jabber would pick a sadist who likes to bully him in private, thanks. She’s not the type to consider anyone family, not even her own flesh and blood, but Jabber… Well, he’s the closest she’ll ever get to the real deal. She loves the guy, but she’s seen enough of his ass to last a lifetime.
Noerde looks over with a question between her brows. “You sound fond of him.”
“I am. I owe a lot to Jabber. He’s always looking out for me even when I tell him not to.” She chuckles at the memories. “He even bailed me out of jail once. No one else would answer their phone, not even my roommate, but Jabber did and he was there in minutes. Spent the rest of the night scolding me about how only amateurs get caught doing dumb shit.”
There’s a brief pause, but then the moment’s gone. Riyo takes a large gulp of her drink, the liquid courage burning the back of her throat much like Noerde’s distrustful stare does to her pride. “What exactly did you do?”
“Stole a car,” she shrugs in an attempt to remain calm, cat ears tilting on her head. “Well, it was my father’s car, one of those cybertruck eyesores that only assholes buy, but still. We weren’t on speaking terms back then, and we certainly aren’t now.” Riyo does not mention getting high and purposefully crashing that damn ugly car in a McDonald’s parking lot because, you know, that is not what good girls do. Besides, she doesn’t need another lecture under her belt.
A sigh of relief escapes Noerde and the sound is music to them both. “Zodyl has one of those cars. It's ugly on the inside, too, but I suppose you already know that.”
Actually, she’s forgotten the majority of that night, but that’s neither here nor there. “My condolences. I’m sure he makes you ride in that hunk of junk all the time.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, you know.”
Well, there’s a curveball no one saw coming.
“Then what is he?” Riyo blinks slowly, her knee brushing against Noerde’s under the table - a feeler of sorts, one that isn’t rejected. “A brother, maybe?”
“A casual lover, sure, but I don’t have enough commitment for him to justify riding in that death trap more than strictly necessary.” Noerde smirks. “So, the next time you're looking to get arrested, I'll give you his address.”
“Hey now,” Riyo says, feigning offense while her words begin to lose their edge under the influence. “I'll have you know that I'm a very good girl, thank you very much.”
“Oh? Did a stray like you get domesticated overnight?”
Riyo slides her palm across the table and her fingers deftly trace the outline of Noerde's hand. Only a small part of her is surprised that Noerde is letting her touch happen, meanwhile a larger, much hungrier part of her is preparing to pounce. “Something like that.”
Noerde watches Riyo, calm and collected in stature all the while a wildfire burns behind her retinas. Riyo likes to think of herself as the type who can easily get what she wants, smooth enough to slip through the cracks of anyone’s defenses, but something about Noerde tells her that she’ll have to use bolder tactics to catch this Wonder Woman off guard.
So, in light of this revelation, her brilliant and not-at-all-tipsy instincts kick in, convincing her that it’s a good idea to slide into Noerde’s side of the booth and climb into her lap. Luckily for her, she does not get shoved off. “Much better,” Riyo purrs into Noerde’s ear, the scent of gin heavy on her breath.
There’s that smirk again, smug and satisfied and entirely in control. Or so she thinks. “Well, well, I see the rumors are true that a cat’s place is curled up in her owner’s lap.”
“Owner? Shouldn't you at least buy me dinner first?”
Noerde places one hand on the small of Riyo's back, not bothering to be humble about her strength, while the other is tilting her head up by her chin. “Don't you worry your pretty little head off. I have just the meal in mind for you, little kitty.”
Riyo leans in close, their lips brushing, Noerde's warm breath trickling down her neck. “Can I get a treat first? Just a little one? I've been so good all evening.”
Around them, people are drunk off their asses and drinking even more for good measure. Cheerful shouts echo over the music from one end of the room to the other, the lights dim and intimate despite the crowd. It's there, in the midst of the Halloween chaos, that Riyo devours her prey.
Their kiss is an immediate shock to her system, sobering her thoughts while also keeping her drunk on the feel of Noerde’s skin on hers. Finally, Riyo has the chance to run her hands through this long, blonde hair that has been teasing her all night. It isn't as silky as it looks, but its harshness only adds to the rough, intoxicating movements of Noerde's lips as she and Riyo battle for dominance with their tongues.
For her part, Noerde has taken a special interest in the slight curve of Riyo’s hips, artistically sculpted by booze, deadline stress, and a poor college student’s all-ramen diet. Compared to Noerde’s firm muscles in all the right places, Riyo’s a twig, and not a very big one at that, but she makes up for it by knowing how to use her sharp edges better than anyone.
“You know,” Noerde says in between peppering kisses down Riyo’s neck and back up again. “I would hate to be a hypocrite.”
“Oh? And how is that?”
She nods towards the bar with a sharp tilt of her chin. “I already criticized those hopeless romantics over there about not getting a room. I'd hate to be just as bad as they are.”
Riyo's lips curl upwards, teeth bared with eyes dark and calculating. This is the moment she's been waiting for. “Well, I'm your new kitty now, right? Aren't you gonna take me home?”
“Aren't cats supposed to be more cautious around people they just met? Jumping into bed with a stranger isn't very feline of you.”
“What do you mean? I'm your good friend, Cat. We met at the convenience store, remember? Don't tell me you already forgot.”
Noerde bites her lip into a wicked grin, her grip on Riyo's waist tightening like a leash, strong and possessive, almost restraining. Funny, really. It's at this moment that Riyo starts to understand why Jabber likes being tied up so much.
“Silly me. Who could ever forget meeting you? And after all we've been through together.” She presses another kiss into Riyo's neck, one that quickly turns into a teasing bite. “I suppose I have no choice but to take you home with me.”
Hook, line, and sinker. Pride wells in her chest as Noerde leads her out of the bar and into a vacant taxi. It really is too easy. Like she said before: Riyo's the type who can always talk herself into getting what she wants.
And maybe, just maybe, if Noerde's a good girl, Riyo might consider settling down and leaving her solitary days as a stray behind.