Chapter 16: Delayed Gratification

Their train whisked them past the shining neon and glittering skyscrapers, Steven sitting beside Yemi in one of the narrow rows. The little male’s decision to join them had seemed last-minute, almost impulsive, which wasn’t like him at all. Then again, if this was something he had been denying himself, he might have pondered taking just such an outing for some time. He had pounced on the opportunity before it had passed him by.

Steven recalled the flashes of pink that he had displayed while the flock had been hitting on him, his larger male feathers making it harder to suppress. His reasons for not wanting to go out with his coworkers weren’t because he hated fun, or even that he didn’t like Ipal’s flock – they were rooted in his fear of tarnishing his hard-won reputation. Now that he was more secure in his position and more confident with women, perhaps those fears had been somewhat assuaged.

He seemed filled with nervous energy now, struggling to keep his feathers in their sheaths, his eyes wide as he gazed out of the windows at the passing scenery. The flock were no less thrilled to have him tagging along, peering at Steven and Yemi alike as they occupied the rows of seats directly in front of and behind the pair, whispering to one another almost inaudibly.

“I’m glad that you decided to come,” Steven began.

“You are?” Yemi asked, peeling his eyes away from the window.

“You shouldn’t have to be afraid of enjoying yourself. None of your coworkers are.”

“Perhaps I was overly worried about how people would perceive me,” he conceded. “My position at the company is more prestigious than ever, and I find that my coworkers have been treating me with more respect as of late. If I cannot feel secure now, then when? Must I be on the board of executives before I allow myself time to unwind?”

“We knew that Steven was rubbing off on you,” Ezi chimed, leaning over the back of their seats to give them a flush of amused yellow. “He’s practically made you an honorary Earth’nay by now.”

“You have seemed more assertive at work,” Mima added with a flutter of pink. “I must admit – the change suits you.”

“This has been a long time coming,” Ipal said.

With a pleased flush of green feathers, Yemi settled into his seat, turning his eyes to the skyline again as he allowed himself a smile.

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 – it might be the same part of the city.

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 Steven by the hand and leading him on a winding path through the flocks. “We know a really good place.”

Yemi followed, sticking close to Steven, his head on a swivel as he took in the sights. The rest of the group crowded around the pair, almost as though they were escorts – protecting their charges from the prying eyes of other females.

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.

“I haven’t visited a lounge since I moved to Kalahar,” Yemi noted, his eyes lingering on the animated sign. There was apprehension in his headdress, but also anticipation.

“Don’t worry,” Steven chuckled, giving him an encouraging pat on the back. “It’s technically my first time, so we can be rusty together. You don’t have to drink or smoke, or even talk to anyone if you don’t want to. We’re here to have a good time.”

“I feel better having you with me,” the alien replied, giving his friend a flutter of green. “I’m reminded of my youth, when I was still studying in my home city. I went out to a lounge with some friends to celebrate our graduation. It’s rather exciting.”

The strangers near the entrance glanced up at the newcomers as they approached, tittering to one another at the strange sight, no doubt guessing the purpose of the visit. It was hard to be discreet when you were a foot taller than everybody else, and Yemi’s feathers could be spotted from a block away. 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 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, with 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 moved over to an unoccupied booth, a few heads turning to watch Steven and Yemi 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. Paza was off to his left, staying close to Yemi, who was sitting a little further away. The curved shape of the seating meant that Steven 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. “Except for Yemi – he always dresses impeccably.”

“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.”

“This brings back memories,” Yemi added with a tinge of pink in his feathers. “I don’t think I’ve ever visited a lounge already in the company of a flock. Knowing that nobody is likely to approach us makes it easier to relax.”

“How do you usually get started?” Steven asked. “What’s the lounge etiquette?”

“Well, a little drink and herb tends to smooth things along,” Ipal suggested.

“Coming here was my idea, so sure,” Steven said. “We can get a little drunk and high. Wouldn’t be a party otherwise. How about you, Yemi?”

“It has been some time since I have partaken, but I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to indulge a little,” he replied with a flash of approving green.

Steven remembered how relaxed Yemi had become while drinking with him and Joseph. Maybe a little indulgence would help him overcome some of his social anxiety.

“You said that you hadn’t had herb before, Steven?” 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 having a good time.”

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. Paza handed Yemi the hose, his eye spots shimmering as his feathers flared green, his lack of practice leaving him coughing for a moment. 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.

It was impossible not to compare the dancer to Yemi. Could he move like that? Would his scales shine beneath the pulsing lights in the same manner? Not for the first time, Steven considered how similar Valbaran males and females appeared. They shared wide hips and proportionally large thighs – a consequence of their biology that endowed the males with the same hourglass figure. It was the males who preened and engaged in pageantry, waxing their scales to a shine and painting their eyes, wearing clothes designed to draw attention to their slim midriffs and narrow shoulders. They were the smaller sex, more feminine by human standards...

“There we go,” Ipal chuckled, watching his expression. She snapped him back to reality, Steven taking a moment to center himself again before replying.

“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.

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

The flock shared her pink coloration, watching as she lay her head against Steven’s shoulder. Yemi had a tinge of yellow in his feathers, perhaps surprised by the sudden show of affection. He hadn’t been privy to their private conversations, and he hadn’t seen their relationship develop. Still, it was a lounge, and everyone knew what happened at lounges. The little male took another drink from his glass, averting his gaze, but Paza was there to meet it. She slunk a little closer to him, her voice low as she held some private, whispered conversation on their side of the couch.

Steven felt like he should intervene, but there was no hint of blue or purple in the male’s plumage – just pink. Whatever they were talking about, he seemed to be enjoying the attention. Steven had been worried about Yemi feeling like a fifth wheel, or the flock behaving inappropriately around him, but maybe those fears were unfounded. Yemi’s growing confidence meant that he didn’t need someone to hold his hand, and the flock had learned much from their time with Steven. Maybe it was okay to just trust his friends.

Paza had been pretty vocal about her opinion of Steven as a long-term mate, so he didn’t feel any sense of anxiety seeing her flirt with her coworker. What even was she to him – one-fifth of a girlfriend? He’d seen people fight over women in bars back on Ganymede, but while the Valbarans might treat their flocks as one unit, it was hard for him to view them that way. His human sense of monogamy was already out of the window. Besides, Paza wouldn’t go against the consensus. If Yemi left the lounge in the company of a flock, it would be with some lucky strangers looking to score.

He let his arm rest around Ezi’s shoulders as she snuggled up to him, his proximity and the pacifying herb leaving her content and relaxed. The rest of the flock were drinking and smoking, chatting about work as they lounged in the soft pillows.

They lay together on the couch for a while longer, enjoying the drink and herb as the music pulsed in their ears, Steven growing pleasantly intoxicated. He could drink a hell of a lot more than he could back home and barely feel tipsy thanks to the low alcohol content, and the herb was similarly measured for the diminutive aliens, taking a while for its calming effects to really set in. It allowed him to remain alert and engaged.

As Steven had hoped, Yemi was loosening up as the evening went on, just as he had during their outing with Joseph. He was engaging with the flock more, his conversations growing more lively, his feathers taking on more consistently green hues. When there wasn’t a yoke of anxiety weighing him down, he was downright bubbly. He even managed to get some laughs out of the flock with stories about his difficulties organizing the presentation, their pink hues suggesting that they were quite taken with him.

“I’m glad that you decided to invite him,” Mima said once there was a lull. “We’ve always been curious about Yemi, and it’s nice to finally see what he’s like when he’s not sat behind a desk in the lobby.”

“I think that Paza would say the same,” Steven said as he watched the two interact.

“Are you jealous?” Ezi giggled as she nuzzled at his neck. “You don’t have to be.”

“Nah, Paza told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t really see me as a profitable investment,” he chuckled as he took another drink from one of the crystal vials. “I just hope it doesn’t cause contention inside the flock.”

“Well, we decide such things together,” Ezi replied. “And we’ve already decided who we want to take home.”

“Perhaps we should go order some more drinks,” Mima suggested, giving her flockmates a quick feather signal. “We’ll give the boys a minute alone.”

Ezi left Steven’s side reluctantly, giving him a lingering glance as the flock rose from the couch and made their way over to the bar. Paza followed after a little insistence, leaving Yemi and Steven sitting alone. Yemi shuffled a little closer, his drink still in hand, peering up at Steven expectantly.

“Having a good time?” Steven asked, offering him a hose.

“Very,” he replied, pausing to take a puff. “Thank you for pushing me to do this. Now that I’m here, I’m realizing how much I needed a break from the stress of the office. I haven’t felt this relaxed since I was a student.”

“All I did was give you the option,” Steven replied, giving him an encouraging nudge. “You made the choice to come on your own.”

“Ipal and her flock behave so differently around you,” he mused, glancing across the room at the girls. They were leaning on the bar, glancing back at the boys, engaged in their own private conversation that involved a lot of pink plumage. “Just a few days ago, I would never even have considered spending an evening with them like this. They’d be too persistent – too disrespectful.”

“Maybe I can take a little credit for that part,” Steven replied, taking a sip from his glass. “All I really did was give them a choice. We could fuck, or we could have a relationship, and they’d have to wait for the latter. I feel like there’s so much competition for males that the only approach that’s ever worked for them is being aggressive – nobody has ever given them another option before.”

“You have a special way of dealing with them that I hope to emulate someday,” Yemi giggled, taking another drink from his vial. “It’s honestly very impressive the way you stand up for yourself.”

“That’s just good old Earth’nay belligerence,” he replied. “You’re getting pretty good at it yourself, from what I hear.”

“I hope that my being here isn’t interfering,” Yemi added with a worried pulse of purple. “You once asked me for permission to pursue the flock – not that you ever required it – and I still feel the same way I did back then. I don’t want to step on your tail.”

“Nah, I want you here,” Steven said as he reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise. I just hope we’re not making you feel excluded. Paza seems to be showing you a good time, at least.”

“It must be so strange for you,” the little male continued with a flutter of yellow. “It’s my understanding that Earth’nay mate in pairs.”

“Generally speaking, but there are always exceptions to the rule,” Steven explained as he spared the flock another lingering glance. “You’re right, though – it’s a little intimidating. I can hardly imagine how a Valbara’nay guy feels.”

“Before you arrived, I never considered that it could be otherwise,” Yemi replied. “You have a way of changing the way that the people around you think, Mister ... Steven.”

“You think so?”

“For the better, in my experience,” he added with a warm smile. “The office has become a friendlier place with you here.”

“Well, the company did want fresh perspectives,” Steven replied.

“What a strange spectacle we must make,” Yemi added with a snicker. “Two males – an Earth’nay and a bachelor, accompanying the same flock to a lounge.”

“Is that why we’ve been getting all of these funny looks?” Steven asked, glancing around the room. A few of the unaccompanied flocks had been eyeing them hungrily from their booths, watching them like packs of raptors peering through the undergrowth.

“I think you understand the implication of coming here,” Yemi added, taking another puff from his hose. “At least, how it appears in our culture. Two boys with one flock – wouldn’t that be silly,” he giggled with a flash of pink.

“I imagine it doesn’t happen very often with how spoiled for choice you guys are,” Steven replied. “It seems to me that the flocks are the ones fighting over the males.”

“Oh, it happens more often than you might imagine,” Yemi replied with a flush of pink.

“You’re telling me that you couldn’t take any flock in this lounge home if you really wanted to?” Steven continued with a gesture to the nearby booths.

“Perhaps,” he added sheepishly, raising his vial to his lips. “But I would rather spend the evening with my friends. We’re here to celebrate, after all.”

“I guess they wouldn’t be a good fit for you anyway,” Steven said, leaning back into the couch. “The flocks here will be looking for hookups – they’re probably not the most egalitarian people.”

“They wouldn’t respect me the way that you and our coworkers do,” Yemi said with a flutter of green agreement that was tinged with more rose. “It would be dishonest to suggest that hooking up with a flock holds no appeal, but the expectation that I would abandon my career to become a stay-at-home husband is insulting at best. My options have always been either to be abandoned the next morning or to be hounded by prospective wives. It’s so refreshing to be here with ... no expectations.”

“That’s rough, little buddy,” Steven said with another encouraging nudge. “Tonight is about relaxing, so have a little more herb and a little more booze, and let’s have a little fun.”

“Alright,” Yemi replied with a smile, watching as Steven refilled their vials.

The flock soon returned, sliding back into their seats to surround the two males. Ezi shuffled back into place at Steven’s side, sticking close, while Paza guided Yemi back over to the far side of the curving couch.

“Now, where were we?” Ipal asked.

They talked long into the evening, Steven regaling the flock with more stories about Ganymede and humans, finding himself equally engrossed by their tales of life on Valbara. They indulged in their vices, growing more and more comfortable, the flock always wanting to be close to him. Paza was the exception, more focused on Yemi, but the colors of happiness in the male’s headdress made Steven glad of it. The little clerk deserved to enjoy some female attention without any strings attached.

It wasn’t long before the flock started getting more handsy with Steven. There was no need for pretenses or restraint anymore – everyone knew why they’d come to the lounge.

Full of liquid courage now, and with her feathers burning an amorous pink, Ezi 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.