Chapter Text
The music bled into you, consuming and all damning. The bass was intense, louder than you would have been able to stand it in any different situation, but it was everything you needed this night. And maybe even a little bonus too. Between the flashing lights, coloring the club and bodies around you in shapeless black and sinful red, faces only visible for split seconds each, a smirk showing more teeth than to be called innocent caught your vision. Between the flashes of darkness and your own intense movements and swirls, you managed to puzzle together a strong sharp face in your mind. A strong, clean shaven jaw, dark hair in dreads and shaved sides. Straight nose, thick eyebrows, and the most intense blue eyes you had ever seen, pinning you in place, pulling you apart, piece by piece.
You had come to the club that night to loosen up with your friends; it was a tradition of you all to always take the only weekend you had off in the month to the Underground of Spikemuth. The club scene was not for everybody, hell, even the city wasn't; the whole town probably should be put under quarantine solely on principle, but it was your hometown, birthplace and probably graveyard in the making. You lived for the intensity you could find nowhere else than right here. You and your friends always toasted first to have survived another day. As always, as the night had gone on, you had taken off on your own to jump into the fray of the masses and dance until you forgot your name. You always had more stamina than most, trained from a young age, a misplaced youth, and had been doing this for too long. Now you were in your late twenties, and life just didn't seem like stopping. The days were exhausting, and most off time you would fall right into bed after work without even getting the chance to see what you were holding onto. But here, moving and sweating and yeah, sometimes fucking, you never felt more alive. So you spend money you didn't have on drinks you didn't like and then danced the night away with alternating strangers that thought that they could keep up with you.
Something was different tonight. Or maybe it was just him. Most of the people of the Spikemuth underground scene already knew you, in one way or another, and you were even on first name bases with Piers, even if that was more work related then anything. The few people that tried to dance with you saw it as a challenge, and it wasn't like you wouldn't hope for one to win the prize, but even the ones which raised your attention in the beginning quickly tired out off your never ending swirls and shakes and dips. Eventually, they would find the time not worth the price and move on, which was fine with you, too. You didn't need them, only the drowning bass and musky air.
But this guy, he had a different kind of aura if you were honest with yourself: he was leaning lazily on the bar, only partly sitting on a stool, talking to his two friends there while never leaving you out of his eyeline. He was staring obviously and shamelessly so, and when you defiantly stared back at him to acknowledge his interest, he only seemed to put more teeth into his grin. The way his eyes picked you out of the crowd seemed incredibly matter-of-fact, but not like he had something to prove. His clothes were simple, and you took a second to follow his bare arms to the tip of his fingers which were casually holding onto a drink at the bar. He raised the glass to toast you in a simple gesture, and you winked in return, which officially started the war of tug.
With a last glance in his direction, you saw him nod to his friends and pull away from the bar to the dance floor, slowly swaying to the music while also moving forth with purpose. You opted to turn you back at his approach, to invite the adrenaline of surprise into the game, and changed from your intense movements to more sensual ones, swaying your hips harder, let your hands wander over your curves and invite any looker still, but you did hope that your playmate was the first to approach you.
You felt a gentle finger running down your spine, slowly until it went left and held on to your hip. You didn't dare to turn around just now, but rolled your hips in time with the bass of the song back, letting the hand guide you into an embrace which entailed a strong chest at your back and hot breath necking your ear. His other hand reached for yours and guided it over your head to his neck, where the shaved part of his hair sensually tickled your fingertips. You thought him adequate tall when you saw him at the bar, but he seemed to loom over you in a way which made your insides quiver and mind race with possibility. He effortlessly matched your dancing, and with every deep burst of the bass you pressed yourself harder against the stranger. His hand had wandered from your hip to just under your navel, returning your hard sways, while his thumb gently caressed the thin strap of flesh between your skirt and crop top. It drove you insane. Your mind barely remembered that being with you should be seen as a reward, and he easily had taken control over your game. You let your hand, which had settled on his neck at your back, rise further, you did have to tip toe a little, and gave one of his dreads at the back a gentle tug. You felt his head tip back a bit, and his hands were losing their strong grip on you for a moment, and you turned around.
The DJ threw in another hard heavy techno number, and you moved your hips against his in small and unforgiving movements; you swore that his irises were becoming smaller and smaller with each snap of the beat, the blood red light highlighting his blue eyes even further.
You wanted to touch this attractive asshole, but it also felt like losing, in a way. There was a small part in you reasoning that the only way to rise above his judgment was to snatch it from him and disappear right now, but what a price it would be to pay, with his hands gripping your hips hard, rising all the way up until they were directly under your breasts. Some of his fingers were delicately snug under your shirt and started tracing the hard underwire of your bra, without crossing the path to indecency just yet.
You recognized the next song that came on and decided to be the person to pull at the leash. You raised your hands above your head, crossing them in a sensual way and let the stretch float through your body, press your chest harder against him. The movement made your shirt rise, and for a split second you caught his stare wander to the lacy string of your bra, where his finger still absentmindedly was caressing the strip. His eyes fast came back to your face, taking in you mirroring his lazy smirk from earlier that night. You leaned farther back in an easy sway, letting his hands support your standing, stretching out and taking in his full height, when you started mouthing the next lyrics from your one of your favorite songs, which just started describing how the singer would want to be fucked senselessly, shaking him all night long.
Maybe you should have been embarrassed by the sheer vulgarity of the song lyrics, but you were trying to make a point. His mouth opened for a moment, as if he was to say something, probably asking if you were serious or not. Then he closed it again, not without biting a bit into his lip. A fleeting thought sparked in your mind, that he had really nice teeth, and really sharp and pointy back teeth. They would leave beautiful marks, if he decided to.
You had made your move and the ball was now in his court. In a last suggestion you raised an eyebrow and stepped away from him, before turning around and leaving the dance floor.
You headed for the emergency exit – the alarm stopped working years ago and nobody had the money to repair it – and the door led to an alley which had been separated and mostly used for cigarette breaks from dancing, or to make out. With music starting to get quieter with every step you took, you were outside and only felt the bass in your bones.
The icy cold air from outside hit you when you stepped through the door, and it didn't help that you were particularly drenched in sweat. With the music gone, the exhaustion started to sweep through your body, and with a look to your watch you saw that it was already four in the morning. Most of the hook-up-ers where already sealing the deed somewhere more private, so you were alone for now. You must have been dancing for hours, and still the little game with the stranger had you pulled taut, excited where it would lead to. Preferably to a nice bed of a particularly handsome man.
Just when you were about to head back, maybe get another victim, said man appeared in the door frame, but he looked a bit steadier than you would've liked, or that you felt yourself. You had some drinks earlier, but with your alcohol expertise, dancing and now cold air, you felt almost as if sober. Now was the time to say something witty, or flirty, you thought. But nothing really seemed to match the occasion. Your brand of flirting has always been not flirting at all, but rather a dance invite, which he already got, and then getting to the exciting bit. You haven't heard a complaint until now for it. Also, you remembered, the ball still was in his court, theoretically speaking.
He was standing – towering – before you now, a bit more than a whole head taller than you, even in your heels, and looked positively amused through – his shirt cramped, arms and forehead shining with sweat, but he had pulled his dreads into a neat ponytail. His face again had a lazy expression on it, while his eyes checked your whole form out now out in the light of a single street lamp. He seemed more the pleased with what he had caught.
He welcomed the fact that you were already leaning with your back against the wall, head tilted back and exposed neck and stepped closer, trapping you between the cold wall and his warm hot body. He leaned close enough for your breaths to mingle again. You smelled alcohol, sweat and a spicy cologne he wore, and your mouth started watering.
You told him your name in a small, weak whisper and felt his smile in your bones.
“Rai,” he growled in return, and then he was kissing you senseless.
He tasted as good as he smelled. The excitement of kissing a complete stranger clouded your mind, and you wondered briefly if you had ever kissed anyone you'd known less about than him. Not that you could think of, but then, that was becoming more and more difficult as you faded into him. His tongue pressed into your mouth, twirling around your own in a fast, claiming pace. Your fingers found purchase in his sweat soaked dreads, and when you pulled them free again, you moaned into his mouth. His mouth left yours which let you chant his name in a weak moan while he made his way down to your jaw. The fantasies of biting and nipping ensued, sparks of arousal mixed with slight pain sent to your brain and leaving it reeling. He was overwhelming as a whole, overwhelmingly attractive and overwhelmingly eager.
When he ended an especially sensitive hickey at your collarbone, he reached for your wrist and urged you along. You were expecting to get invited home, into his bed to be specific, and were more than willing to go along in that moment. Instead, he pulled you in the other direction, back into the club to the small lounge area, which was only for VIP guests. The staff didn't even blink an eye when you two pushed through, and you decided to not waste too much brain power on this information. It also wasn't your first time there, and if you asked you probably would get a place, but your throne was the dance floor. The area itself was crammed with several sets of couches and chairs and its own small bar, and it was also further away from the dance floor so the music wasn't hindering any conversations.
There must have been people around, some of them probably important too, but if anyone were to ask you about it later you wouldn't be able to give an estimate as to how many. You were entirely focused on your stranger. His large hand was still grasping your wrist, holding tight, but you surprisingly didn't mind the assertiveness. You were used to playing the seductress and tugging the reins, always being the control freak you needed to be. You did not submit, it just wasn't your style. But the easy smile he gave you, when he sat down on one of the sofas and tugged you into his lap, promised things. And you were only here for the ride. He wrapped his arms around your middle, again in and in a tight grab, feeling you exhale. You used the height advantage you had in this position and loomed with a wicked smile over him, mirroring your earlier poses. You pressed your forehead against his, nose to nose, and ran both of your hands over his shaved sides and dreads, relishing in the rough texture. And then you were the one doing the kissing.
Time was only a concept, as far as you were concerned now. You grinded down on him hard, letting yourself half be guided by his hard grip on your hips, where your short skirt was already being indecently pushed up by your position. You both changed between kissing, sometimes gentle, sometimes not as much, and leaving marks on any exposed skin the both of you could reach. He was electric and perfect, and everything you needed tonight.
Eventually, however, the intensity of you two was broken when someone cleared his throat rather loudly behind you. The overdramatic sound of it made clear it wasn't the first time the person had tried to be noticed by you twi, and you still wanted to further ignore him, if you were honest. Rai broke away from you and your kiss with disdain in his face. You took the time to take in his swollen lips and the many hickeys at his throat, before turning your head around.
You found a guy standing there, who wore askew snap back and dark sunglasses – in a dark as fuck club!!! - together with a rather interesting outfit. Also rather colorful, for an outing in the Spikemuth underground. But he also was looking a lot more embarrassed by the situation than either of them.
“I swear to Arceus if -” Rai had started and shook rather funnily a fist at his friend.
“Shut it,” the silly clown guy interrupted and turned his back to them, still tomato red in the face. “Piers called; if we still want to crash at his we need to leave right now.”
You took a moment to take in the appearance of your stranger for a last time; swollen lips, messy hair and marked skin giving his already more than attractive look a wilder aspect, getting even more to you. But he also looked a bit younger than you thought. Younger than his assertiveness suggested, or his lean, towering frame. But definitely younger than you.
He also looked a bit unsure how to proceed in this situation.
You decided to help him out with sliding off his lap and standing up, fixing your skirt and shirt up which were showing more then it would be good for a lonely walk home. You did not intend to follow this guy to Piers for goodness sake – alone that they knew each other would give you headache the next morning – but you also will surely not invite him to your small wacky apartment you shared with your mother and sister.
His friend took the noises from your moving as a sign that it was okay to turn around and give his friend a bit of a gloating grin, which promoted Rai to stick him the finger. He was still sitting, looking a bit defeated. You leaned down to give him a last chaste kiss, you didn't really know why, and winked at him.
“Another time, handsome”
Then you hastily made an dramatic exit for the entrance to get home. You so needed to get off.