Chapter 16: Delayed Gratification

As their train whisked them past the shining neon and glittering skyscrapers, Steven couldn’t help but notice the buzz in the air. He knew the implications of a visit to the lounge, and the flock knew that he knew. It was about as close to asking them to take him to bed as he could get without being uncouth. In some ways, he almost felt like he was offering himself to the flock as a reward, but that wasn’t really the case. This was something he had wanted for weeks, but that he had postponed until he could be confident that the flock’s intentions were genuine.

They had shown restraint, and they had proven that their interest in him was about more than just novelty or gratification. More importantly, they had learned to trust him enough to stake their jobs on his suggestions, and they had come to respect him as a colleague.

It was about time he put out.

The train slid to a stop, and they made their way down the narrow steps, the glow of the colorful signs that surrounded them bathing the streets in the fading sunlight. It reminded Steven of the street where he had met with Joseph, and it might be the same part of the city. Yemi would probably have remembered.

Throngs of Valbarans clustered beneath the palm trees that lined the sidewalks, chatting in their native tongue, a sound like birdsong accompanying the throbbing music that bled out of the nearby clubs. The night owls were just waking up. The pink sunset was their dawn, and the coming night brought with it the promise of revelry and more.

“Come on,” Ipal said, taking him by the hand and leading him on a winding path through the flocks. The rest of the group crowded around him, almost as though they were his escorts – there to protect him from the prying eyes of other females. “We know a really good place.”

They soon turned off the main street and into an alley between two of the tall buildings, passing into shadow. Steven might have expected garbage receptacles or trash lying around, as was the case with out-of-the-way tunnels on Ganymede, but even Valbaran alleys were kept neat and clean. It wasn’t deserted, however. At the far end of the cul-de-sac were a couple of flocks milling about outside a door, a few Valbarans leaning against the wall as they chatted, the pink glow from a neon sign bathing them. Even without knowing the romantic connotations of the color, the animated hologram playing a loop of a stylized dancer left no question as to what kind of entertainment the establishment offered.

Unlike the bars and restaurants, this lounge seemed like it didn’t belong – like it was an afterthought or somehow out of place. Steven remembered what he’d been told about lounges often being set up in spaces that had been vacated by their original owners, and how they weren’t usually factored into the city’s grand design. They were a little artifact of disorder in the regimented world of the Valbarans.

The strangers glanced up at Steven as he approached, tittering to one another at the strange sight, no doubt guessing the purpose of his visit. It was hard to be discreet when you were a foot taller than everybody else. They stepped out of the flock’s path and allowed them to enter, the group making their way down a short flight of steps that led below ground level, taking them into some kind of basement. It could have been an old bomb shelter or maybe some kind of abandoned storage area – Steven had no idea.

The steps leveled out, and they came to a second door, Steven having to duck to get through this one. As the panel slid aside, the sounds of music and conversations filtered out, Steven blinking his eyes against the soft light.

He glanced around as he entered the lounge, taking in the strange sights. It was at once familiar in some ways, yet completely different from any of the establishments that he had frequented so far. It was comparatively small and intimate compared to the bar that he had visited with Joseph and Yemi, and it was only a single story, lacking the elevated platforms and walkways. The ceiling above their heads was arched, furthering the comparisons to some kind of cellar, and the bare stone was lit by hanging chandeliers that cast a warm glow. The floor was bare flagstone, but it had been covered over with lavish, fluffy carpets that resembled fur rugs.

On his left was a long bar with a polished imitation wood counter, the shelves behind it stacked with colorful bottles filled with unidentifiable spirits. There were a few of the pervasive vending machines, too, snack foods and what must be soft drinks filling their racks. The bar was manned by most of a flock, suggesting that the other employees might be working in another area of the building – perhaps behind the door that must lead into an adjoining kitchen or storeroom. As was tradition, the servers who were carrying drinks and silver trays laden with strange objects were all males – their style of clothing and eye paint clearly intended to entice female visitors. They had the usual ornate plumage, the low-cut tops, and the jeweled diadems. The ink-like pigments framing their eyes almost looked Egyptian to Steven.

To the right side of the room were rows of booths just like the ones he’d seen in many restaurants, but these were walled off from one another for privacy. Each one had a low table that was ringed by a semi-circular couch, the seating scattered with plush, velvet cushions in shades of pink and red. A few of the booths were already occupied, their tables scattered with half-empty drink vials, the smoke from ornate hookahs lingering in the air to make it hazy. It wasn’t foul-smelling or acrid – it had a perfumed scent about it, as though it was flavored with something floral.

Steven could see a few groups of females chatting up boys, surrounding them in their booths, making them the center of attention. There were even a few small parties of two or three unaccompanied males who were undoubtedly there to meet women, a few predatory flocks watching them like hawks, preparing to make their moves. One of the servers had even slid into a booth with his clients, the flashes of pink suggesting that they were flirting. Others watched the evening’s entertainment with drinks in hand, their eyes focused on the back of the room.

Towards the far wall was a small elevated platform that served as a stage, a series of spotlights reminiscent of those from the theater illuminating a dancer, their hues matching his impressive feather displays. Steven couldn’t help but pause to admire him for a moment. Just like the performer at the theater, he showed incredible skill and grace, his sequences of carefully choreographed moves accompanied by mesmerizing flashes and ripples from his vibrant plumage. He moved with the rhythm of the music – its melodic thrum loud but not overpowering – his body flowing like water.

The tight costume worn by the theater performer had been rather revealing, but this outfit was clearly intended to draw the female gaze, exposing the waxed scales of his shoulders and midriff. The shorts that he wore had reflective filigree that caught the light with each shake of his hips, and on the tip of his tail was a neon band, its bright glow painting lingering afterimages in the air. Dangling gems hung from silver chains attached to his diadem, covering his eyes almost like a veil, affording the viewer only brief glimpses of his violet irises. The red paint that adorned his face furthered the effect, darkening the scales around them.

The flock led Steven over to an unoccupied booth, a few heads turning to watch him as they settled into the soft couches. The walls of the booths actually afforded more privacy than he would have assumed, blocking out their neighbors so that their occupants could only see the bar and the stage. They were high enough that Steven couldn’t see over them unless he really tried, and there was enough leg room that he could stretch out a little. The flock settled in beside him, and he found himself sandwiched between Ezi and Ipal, with Mima and Tilli on his right and Paza off to his left. The curved shape of the seating meant that he could have face-to-face conversations with all of them, and nobody was left out in the cold.

“We must look strange wearing business clothes to a lounge,” Ipal chuckled.

“More strange than showing up with me?” Steven asked.

“Seeing an Earth’nay in a lounge isn’t that unusual in some parts of the planet,” Mima replied. “So, what do you think, Steven? Was this what you expected?”

“It’s kind of like a nightclub or a bar, but also not,” he mused as he glanced over at the shelves of liquor. “It’s a little like a strip club, but also not. I would call it uniquely Valbaran.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever brought a boy to a lounge,” Ezi added with a nervous giggle. “What do we do now?”

“The end goal is usually to get them to leave,” Ipal chuckled.

“Well, what would you usually do?” Steven asked. “In fact, pretend that you just met me. I caught your eye across the room due to my dashing good looks, and you’ve invited me over to your booth to put the moves on me. Pretend that me going home with you guys tonight isn’t a sure thing.”

He watched a ripple of pink spread through the flock, Ezi going all quiet and shy again as she was reminded where the night would lead them.

“Well, a little drink and herb usually smooths things along,” Ipal suggested.

“I’ve already consented, so sure,” Steven said. “We can get a little drunk and high. Wouldn’t be a party otherwise.”

“You said that you hadn’t had herb before?” Mima asked.

“Not your kind, no. I’m curious to see what all the fuss is about.”

“We are celebrating closing the contract,” Tilli added.

“And our promotion,” Paza said.

“And we have overtime pay to burn,” Ezi snickered.

“We have tomorrow off, too,” Steven said. “Just for tonight, don’t worry about work or deadlines or office politics. Just focus on us.”

Ipal called over one of the servers and ordered some drinks to start them off, the boy soon returning with a couple of bottles and some crystal vials balanced deftly on a tray. There was also a small silver container that looked like a little pocket watch.

The hookah was already waiting for them at the center of the table, half a dozen flexible hoses trailing from it. It was a vaguely bulb-shaped object with a long neck that appeared to be blown from green-tinted glass, and it was decorated with colorful resins and metal accents. At the very top was something shaped like a bowl protected by a metal cap that was covered in little ventilation holes.

Ipal popped open the pocket watch, revealing it to be a container that was packed with something resembling tobacco or grass soaked in a gummy resin. She took a few pinches of the stuff and lifted the cap, packing the bowl before securing it again. There was a heating element near the top, and she lit it with the press of a button, a red glow emanating from the device as it began to warm.

They waited for a few moments as it got going, then Ipal lifted one of the hoses, bringing a little whistle-shaped nozzle to her scaly lips. She took a long, slow puff, seeming to savor its flavor for a few seconds before exhaling two plumes of smoke from her nostrils. It made her look like a little dragon.

“Good?” Mima asked.

“Yeah, it’s good stuff,” she replied as she suppressed a cough. A ripple of relaxed green spread through her feathers, and she leaned back into the cushions, enjoying the herb’s effects.

“You’re much larger than we are, so it should be perfectly safe,” Mima said as she passed one of the hoses to Steven.

“If an alien offers you drugs, it’s bad manners to refuse,” Steven replied as he took it from her hand. “What do I do – just suck on it?”

“Inhale,” Mima explained. “Hold it for a few moments, then release.”

He did as she instructed, the flock watching as he took a draw. It had a rosewater aroma to it, along with a distinctly fruity taste, the smoke filling his lungs. He held it, then slowly exhaled through his nose as Ipal had.

“Tastes better than I expected,” he said, watching as Tilli began to pour them some drinks.

The rest of the flock took their turns, a low bubbling sound emanating from the hookah as they smoked. Steven was passed a drink, and he took a sip, finding it a little stronger than the wine they had enjoyed previously. It was still nothing compared to the average human spirit, but it was a welcome change.

“Should I be feeling anything yet?” Steven asked, watching the flutters of green that were spreading through the flock.

“You might need a little more,” Ezi said, gesturing to his hose. “You weigh three times what we do.”

He took another puff, that floral scent filling the air, his eyes drawn to the dancer on the stage. The spotlights changed color to match his feather displays, reflecting off the iridescent eyespots, his movements married to the flow of the music. The little neon band on the tip of his tail painted shapes in the air, like someone holding a glowstick at a rave. As Steven watched, a sense of calm came over him, the pacifying effect of the herb kicking in.

“There we go,” Ipal chuckled, watching his expression.

“Yep, that’s THC alright,” Steven said as he took another draw. “You guys are so high-strung – it’s no wonder this is how you like to relax. This whole lounge thing is a relief, in a way.”

“How so?” Mima asked, sipping at a vial of amber liquid.

“Valbara’nay society can appear kind of ... utopian from the outside,” he began. “On a surface level, everyone seems to be a good citizen, and everyone follows the rules. There’s no crime or disorder – at least that’s visible – and there’s enough social trust to leave vending machines and food delivery drones unattended.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Ipal asked with a skeptical smile, nursing her hose.

“It comes off as inauthentic to someone with my background,” he continued. “When things are too good, we get suspicious.”

“But that’s so sad!” Mima exclaimed. “You’re saying that you can’t enjoy peace and safety without anticipating some ulterior motive or hidden danger?”

“That kind of thinking keeps you alive in places like Ganymede,” Steven replied. “If something is too good to be true, it generally is, and we develop a pretty reliable bullshit radar. These lounges aren’t part of your careful planning and consensus, though. They’re not clean and sanitized – they’re dive bars where people come to get wasted and try to take strippers home. This is the most human thing you guys have shown me so far.”

“That’s good ... I guess?” Ipal said as she gave Mima a questioning look.

“He’s saying that a society without a little sleaze is an unnatural thing,” Ezi said, taking a longer drink from her vial. Maybe she was searching for a little bravery at its bottom. “Because deep down, underneath the veneer of civility, we all want the same things. No matter what planet we come from, we’re all just clever animals, and we’re all driven by the same biological urges. He doesn’t trust people who don’t have flaws and faults – people who don’t have selfish desires. Do you trust me?” she asked, creeping closer to him on the couch.

He raised his arm out of her way, her lithe little frame pressing tighter, her long tail slithering across the cushions like a snake. Full of liquid courage now, and with her feathers burning an amorous pink, she climbed into his lap. His thigh made an admirable seat for her, the skin-tight shorts that she wore letting him feel her soft, springy cheeks through the insubstantial fabric. She leaned against his chest, her glass still in hand, her plumage tickling his skin as she lifted her snout to nuzzle his neck. It was as high as she could reach.

“I’m very flawed,” she purred, her scaly nose brushing against his jaw. “I have a lot of greedy, self-indulgent desires.”

There was no need for pretenses or restraint anymore – everyone knew why they’d come to the lounge.

Steven wrapped his arm around Ezi’s narrow waist, letting his hand rest on her hip, feeling her shift and shiver at his touch. There was still an adorable uncertainty in her eyes, those violet irises peering up at him as they fished desperately for a response. He gave it to her in the form of another kiss, Ezi leaning into him as they joined, knowing what to expect this time. She took a handful of his suit jacket, lifting herself closer as they embraced, her lips cool and smooth against his own.

He felt her narrow tongue greet him, the taste of her drink still lingering, her pace more adventurous now. Its tapered tip explored him with light flurries and quick licks, swirling around his much larger organ. He could feel her quiver and see her feathers start to flicker each time he brushed her palate or touched her in some unexpected place. This wasn’t merely her second kiss – the concept didn’t exist for Valbarans, so it was all still wonderfully new to her.

Steven allowed himself to slide his hand down to her thigh, his fingers sinking into the spandex-like material of her shorts, the velvet-soft flesh beneath yielding in the most inviting way. The Valbarans were proportionally bottom-heavy when compared to humans, with so much of their body mass in their thighs, their butts, and their long tails. As Ezi let out a soft little trill of desire, he felt his digits meet firm, rubbery muscle. The tissue that allowed her to leap with such ease was delightfully springy, providing wonderful resistance when she flexed. The tight hem of her shorts cut a little dimple into her leg as though to advertise its plumpness, his fingertips leaving the silky fabric to find her glassy scales.

“You can touch me,” she whispered as they broke off their kiss, a fine strand of their shared saliva glittering in the colorful spotlights as it joined their lips. “I want you to touch me.”