Kev leaned into Fang as they waited for the elevator. Fang was relaxed, one arm draped comfortably over Kev's shoulders. Gretchen stood a little apart, her posture alert but at ease, her eyes scanning the restaurant with a practiced calm. Lanon, having finally removed the towel from his head, stood next to her, looking smugly satisfied, his argyle suit a jarring note of preppy cheerfulness in the sophisticated space.
The wolf let out a large yawn. "Lanon, where is this clothes party we are going to?"
"It's down on the one-hundred-and-twenty-fourth floor," Lanon said, picking his teeth with what looked to be a small bird leg.
Kev shuddered and turned back to look at the stainless-steel doors. The little light above them and on the electronic panel beside them blinked, and the doors slid open.
Kev felt Fang's grip on his shoulder tighten instantly. "Ow! What's-"
Kev saw who Fang was looking at. He was tall, thin, and impeccably dressed in a sharp, white suit, tailored perfectly to his lean, spotted frame. A deep purple undershirt provided a stark, royal contrast, and a pair of dark framed glasses sat perched on his nose, hiding his eyes but not the condescending smirk on his lips. Maffa, the cheetah-man. Behind him stood two large wildebeests, both in black suits. One had long, sharp horns that twisted a bit near the top, the other had shorter, stouter horns that stayed closer to their head. They were a wall of muscle and menace.
"YOU," Fang growled.
"Hey, Fang, relax," Kev said, rubbing Fang's back.
"If it isn't the wild beast himself," Maffa said, stepping out of the elevator. "How unfortunate it is to see you." He paused. "And your..." Maffa's voice trailed off as his scornful gaze moved from Fang, and he finally comprehended the furless mammal trying to soothe the wolf.
Gretchen was fast. She put herself between Fang and the big cat almost immediately, sensing her boss's agitation. "Mr. Fang, is this person bothering you?"
"Yes!" Fang howled, his fur starting to bristle.
"Shh," Kev said, looking back at the packed restaurant, his eyes briefly meeting with the unfortunate gazelle-man at the host podium.
"I think I know you," Maffa said, leaning down a bit and pushing his glasses up, peering at Gretchen. "You're a DU alumni, right?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but you're going to need to step back. Mr. Fang does not want you near him," Gretchen stated, her voice a low, steady growl.
"You're... the mezzo from the championship run in nationals a few years back," Maffa stood back up. "I'd shake your hand, but you'd probably tie me in a knot." He let out a short, forced-sounding laugh. "Why are you degrading yourself by working for that scoundrel?"
Gretchen's whiskers twitched. "Please move along, sir, and enjoy your evening."
"No," Maffa said, giving his arm a slight, dismissive wave. "I want to talk with my old friend Fang."
One of the wildebeests stepped forward and approached Gretchen. They held up a finger dramatically and then lightly touched her on the shoulder. "Tag," a much lighter voice than Kev expected said.
"Oh, Amara, you do love playing games," Maffa said, stepping past the now-occupied panther. She was hissing at the wildebeest woman, who stood, arms up, ready for whatever the panther would try. "Now, Fang, where were we? You seemed so eager to see me," Maffa said, stopping a bit more than arm's reach away from where Kev was desperately trying to dissuade the wolf from attacking.
"This is Ralph's restaurant," Kev pleaded. "We just need to get in that elevator, and we won't have to think about him anymore."
"Hello. Are you one of Fang's friends?" Lanon stepped up to Maffa.
"We go way back," Maffa said, turning his gaze to the iguana. "Are you one of his friends?"
"Our relationship is more complicated than that, unfortunately," Lanon said. "I did notice you seem to excite Fang. How exactly do you know him?"
"People are looking at us, Fang. Let's go. Please," Kev said. "We can call Ralph or something. Cancel his reservation."
"Our fathers... knew each other," Maffa's voice was cold as he turned back to Fang. "Isn't that right?"
"You broke the deal, you scum!" Fang said, his voice just under a shout. "The graveyard is a mess, and the flag was removed! How dare you!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Maffa replied, his tone one of bored indifference. "If you have some issue with the city, I'll be happy to give the information to the proper authorities."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Fang tried to step forward but felt his leg press into Kev. The human was standing directly in front of him now, using his body to prevent the wolf's pounce. "I do not need assistance right now," Fang said, looking down, his voice sounding like he was trying not to explode.
"You must be Mr. Maffa, Fang has told me about you. I think Ms. Gretchen was correct," Lanon said, crossing his arms. "You should go enjoy your meal."
"Ugh," Maffa waved his hand again. "So noisy." The second wildebeest approached Lanon, planting himself directly between the iguana and the cheetah.
"Hello. Are you one of Fang's friends?" Lanon asked.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your... assistant?" Maffa said, watching Kev still trying to get Fang's attention, his tone laced with a mocking curiosity.
"I'll get Donna's phone number, and we can tell her to mess with his order. Let's just go," Kev pleaded desperately.
"Your assistant is conspiring to poison a city official," Maffa said coolly. "That is a misdemeanor."
"You'll wish you were poisoned when I'm through with you!" Fang barked, still unable to bring himself to break past Kev's flimsy restraint.
"Poison? How sophisticated." A smooth voice cut through the tension.
Warlock stood there, leaning slightly against the host podium where only the antlers of the terrified gazelle-man could be seen poking above the polished wood. "Bruno," he said, "why don't you go and give Mr. Maffa a little back rub? He looks very stressed." The large brown bear grunted and began walking towards the already chaotic scene.
"Warlock!" Maffa hissed, taking another step back.
"That's Mr. Warlock," the otter said, his eyes narrowing.
With another step back, Maffa said, "And why have you so rudely joined this conversation between old friends?"
"Rude?" Warlock said. "I just thought my new brother's friend might want a backrub."
"Brother?!" Maffa hissed, looking between Fang and Warlock.
"Yes," Warlock said, pulling a can-like object from his pocket. It had a brass fixture on top. He sprayed a stream of fire from it into the air. He laughed manically and said, "You've come to a great place for dinner, Mr. Maffa."
"Amara! Jabari!" The two wildebeests quickly disengaged and fell back behind the cheetah, who was now smoothing down his suit. "Well, isn't that just another point on the graph," he said. "Debauchery, hedonism, vice, and now what? Trafficking endangered species?" Maffa walked wide around the small group that had formed. "You're disgusting," he whispered as he passed Fang.
Fang whirled. "You're a spineless coward who has no honor!"
"Honor?" Maffa turned. "As if your bloodline could produce honor."
Fang howled and reached for the cheetah. Lanon, however, had already moved to block his path. "What about Maffa excites you?"
"NOT NOW!" Fang barked.
The elevator dinged, and a new couple got off, confused by the commotion in the small waiting area.
"Let's go, Fang." Kev put his arms around Fang's waist and began pulling him towards the elevator. "Hold the door, Gretchen!"
Gretchen, who had been tensely watching the situation, quickly nodded, seeing that the human was somehow able to pull the increasingly volatile wolf.
"Have a good night, Mr. Fang," Warlock waved. "I'll order this cat your favorite meal as an apology from you!"
Kev managed to pull Fang onto the elevator. He had resisted at first but had resigned himself to not being able to eviscerate the cheetah.
As the doors closed, Kev finally let go of Fang. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
Kev's heart jumped. Fang's hands wrapped around him and lifted him slightly. He didn't even have time to process it as Fang kissed him, pure passion. His heart had been racing from the confrontation, but now he felt like he had jumped from one of the windows in The Perch.
"Thank you," Fang finally said, gently lowering him back down.
"If you are getting aroused, I cannot leave," Lanon said. "But I did keep the towel."
The one-hundred-and-twenty-fourth floor took longer than Kev expected to arrive at. They only changed elevators once on the way down, though, so Kev didn't have to avoid Lanon's questions for too long.
When they arrived, they stepped into a long, rectangular room. It was a stark, minimalist space, a high-fashion fever dream rendered in monochrome. The floor was a smooth, seamless white that seemed to glow from within, casting a cool, ethereal light upwards. Large, abstract art pieces in bold black and white hung on the walls, and the seating areas were arrangements of low, sculptural furniture, a black leather chaise lounge here, a white, egg-shaped chair there. The air hummed with a low, pulsating electronic beat and the smell of expensive perfume and champagne.
Hip, extremely overdressed beastpeople talked in small, exclusive groups. Kev even spotted a frog-woman in full BDSM leather... mask and all... chatting away with a small group, standing by a large, chaotic splash art painting, which was also, of course, black and white.
A jacked python-man in tight pants and a black t-shirt stood not far from the elevator. "Yo, bros," he said. "You on the invite list?"