(A/N: welcome, any and all returning readers, to the first chapter of Elisir in about nine months. Countless apologies to everybody who's been waiting for it so long. Please, without further ado, enjoy...)
Elisir
by The Great Red Dragon
Chapter 26
A few days went by. Niki wore his new clothes and enjoyed them. Gomora went about his pandering with a foreseeable manner, which climaxed in a trip to the market and a purchase of raw foods, which were prepared to an appetizing degree for dinner, instead of the microwaveable products which remained crammed in the ice box.
They spoke on a level which before then was nonexistent, though it was mostly about things which didn't require much stretch of emotion or personality: the city, the food, other planets, celebrities, and a touch of politics. To an even lesser extent (composing mainly of Gomora's insights), life in the lab.Gomora invited Niki to a movie at the local cinema called "Alone In The House of Rayne", and afterwards, they discussed financing and tax shelters.
Their co-existence went on peacefully, from day-to-day, without incident. No questions were asked beyond one's opinion on a menial subject, or the location of some small object around the apartment.
Niki noticed, however, that neither of them made much of an effort to meet the other's eyes, and it was more than clear that neither of them was making any effort to bring up what had happened in the park, although the relentless buzzing inside of his head forbade Niki any effort to either forget it or think about it too much.
At the moment, Nikita sat on the couch. The television blared in front of him; it had been left on by Gomora before he had gone to get something which he had left in the car. The channel was a cooking show, and Niki was actually beginning to feel hungry. He was considering making a trip to his host's refrigerator when the main door's electronic chime sounded, indicating someone at the threshold. Niki sat up from a reclined position in surprise – Gomora had a key to come in, so he had no reason to ring the doorbell.
The chime sounded again. Niki slid from the couch and crossed the space to the door.
"Yes?", he asked cautiously, through the door's communication system.
"Delivery for Mister Gomora", came a nasally reply.
Despite finding the title of 'Mister Gomora' funny, Niki found himself at odds whether or not to open the door. Since he had stayed with Gomora, nobody had ever come to the door for him with deliveries…and he had unpleasant thoughts of the way he might overreact if he knew that Niki had opened the door while he was alone in the apartment.
"He's not here", he called back, apprehensively.
The individual behind the door cursed audibly.
"Listen, can you take this for him? It's important."
"…I'm not sure I should", replied Niki, his voice growing quiet, hoping the effect would be mirrored for whoever was behind the door; he wasn't even sure if it'd be his place to ask what the delivery was.
"Can you wait? – he should be back any minute…"
"I can't push it underneath the door", came the voice again.
"Please, can't you just take it?"
The Experiment, made wary by Gomora's surefire reprimandation and his own lonesomeness, considered simply telling the deliverer to come back later, but communicating to him over the constant humming in his head, a voice from his subconscious told him to stop being silly; there wasn't anything to worry about, and since he knew better than to argue with his head, Niki obliged and covered the distance to the door, which he opened with a careful touch to the control panel. The door opened, and before him stood a four-foot reptilian character, wearing glasses and a shirt so well-pressed that the few creases in it resembled canyon-like scars.
"Thank you very much", the courier said blandly, sniffing through a swollen nose which extended a few inches before his eyes.
He raised a hand to Niki's eye-level, in which he held a few small sheets of white paper.
"Mister Gomora's residence and bar bills", came the explanation before Niki could ask, upon which it was more less thrust into the Experiment's hands, and the deliverer marched off, sniffling miserably.
Repressing his own memories of being ill on-the-job, Niki watched the employee head down the hallway before he turned back into the apartment, sealing the door behind him. The supposed bill he held in his hand was warm and smelled of xerox, as though it had just been printed a minute ago. It was uncovered – not in an envelope or folder of any kind; he figured that Gomora must always accept his papers like this, if he received them regularly. Not that it seemed professional to deliver notes without some kind of envelope. Perhaps he'd ask Gomora about this when he got back, after he had pointed out the delivery.
Not wanting to fold the paper, he set it face-down on the glass table before the couch – the table, Niki had noted a few days prior, was looking much cleaner than before, apparently having been scrubbed and the magazines (sans the pornography, which had mysteriously disappeared) now sat stacked with some orderliness to them, with the exception of the newly-arrived copy of the thrash metal magazine "Edo Garazor", which was open to the page featuring an interview of the grindcore band Scumclaw about their new album, "Marinated In Sewage."
Gomora was taking a while longer than Niki was expecting – within a few minutes, he had not yet returned. This wasn't necessarily a positive thing, as the television program was exceedingly boring to Niki, and he wouldn't have minded some conversation. Shifting around on the couch, he considered leaving the apartment to go and search for Gomora, but he was quick to tell himself that it was silly to worry over a few minutes and that, with his luck, he'd probably miss Gomora returning, and then Gomora would be the one confused and upset.
Sighing, Niki's gaze fell upon the collection of magazines on the table, and onto the bill. He had no intention of doing anything more than look at its back as it lay type-down on the table…but it turned out that the notes featured typing on both sides of its pages.
Niki leaned forward, glancing at numbers, and items, and numbers, and items, and numbers…and items…
He blinked, and leaned forth more intently, eyeing the back of the bill and not believing his eyes. Regardless of whether or not there were items of equal cost on the rest of the pages, what Niki saw on the mere caboose of the note was jaw-dropping, enough: the figures were astronomical, as far as he was concerned - there were 250-credit spa visits and 100-credit bar bills for expensive and exotics drinks, 100-credit tips, and 200-credit sunglasses. Niki didn't think he had even made that much money in his life, extortions included.
Somehow, Niki suddenly felt as though he knew Gomora a lot less than he thought he did. The apartment was one thing, but the only people whom Niki knew to throw around money as apparently was custom to Gomora were certain pop stars. Gomora was hardly a pop star, but there had to be a difference between a well-paying job and a job which enabled one to afford…
"Saffron shampoo – 800 credits?"
Now Niki was curious; he'd been content to accept Gomora's elusive job description until now, but the need for a more detailed explanation was now itching in his mind. He'd ask, he decided…as soon as he found an honest way to get around the fact that he'd been looking into his host's private mail.
His potential scheming was cut short by the sound of the front door opening. Thankful that the paper hadn't come in an envelope, Niki hurriedly set it back onto the table and sat back against the couch as Gomora entered, wearing a sleeveless t-shirt featuring the evil illustrations of Headless Encryption. A rolled-up paper folder was stuffed into his pocket.
"Knew it was in the backseat", he said, placing the article on a commode before approaching the couch.
"Speaking of which, I met a certain twerp in the hallway – was he just here to deliver something?"
"Was this twerp an ill one?"
"No, he always sounds like that."
"Well, in that case, he brought this here…"
He pointed at the paper on the table, which Gomora took in-hand as he climbed back onto the couch's opposite end, switching the channel before he unfolded it and began studying it while the new television program (an adventure serial) played on.
Out of the corner of his eye, Niki observed his host, looking for some sign that might indicate that Gomora had found anything out of the ordinary with these transactions. The red Experiment, however, simply observed what was on the paper and set the sheet back onto the table without as much as a concerned expression.
"Just some stuff", he commented, after he had brought his eyes back to the screen.
"Nothing important?", Niki inquired.
"No – it's all covered."
Silence followed. Niki wondered if his level of apprehension was strong enough to be felt by his host. Leaning forward, he pretended to eye an advertisement for rollerslides on the table, but before Gomora could offer to buy them for him, he pretended to catch first sight of a figure on the paper which Gomora had placed, unabashed, on the table.
"…Gomora, what's saffron shampoo?"
"What rich people put on their fur."
"I didn't know you were rich."
"I'm not."
"But the shampoo…?"
"Just felt like pampering myself. My money doesn't work for itself, so I can hardly call myself rich."
Niki nodded, and seeing as Gomora didn't seem too concerned with protecting the figures of the paper, he carefully turned the sheet over with a single finger, re-reading the outrageous sums and pretending to see them for the first time; even though he was acting, and despite reading the paper for the second time, he had to exercise control as to not let his still-fresh surprise show too visibly.
"Whoa…that's a lot of money", he commented, with as much naivety as he could muster without sounding stupid.
Behind him, Gomora nodded, and leaned forward, over his shoulder.
"Well, it doesn't stay put, as you know – but that's why I work."
Niki felt a twinge of irritation as his host's nonchalance remained impenetrable and unchanged; no Experiment, after all, had the bred right to deal with outrageous amounts of money like Gomora did. He made sure to keep his face directed at the paper, lest his less-than-innocent feelings appear crudely upon his face.
"Remind me where you work, Gomora?"
"Diamondsteel plant – 'member?"
"Does everybody who works there make this much money?"
"Ehhh…I don't think so – more grunts than higher-ups, see."
"Are you a higher-up?"
"No, sorry – I don't have a suit to wear."
"Oh."
"And I fuckin' hate caviar."
"Ah-ha."
He was trying to be funny – Niki could tell without seeing his grin. But that didn't mean anything - no, on the contrary, it raised the question of why Gomora was being silly about the situation. After all, it would take less time to just reveal his source of income than to set up a joke, wouldn't it?
Niki had some thoughts to himself - he wondered for a while whether Gomora was a prostitute…but he shot his own suggestion down within seconds: a guy like Gomora would rob a bank before he'd hook, and besides, Gomora wasn't weak enough for the job, anyway. Not a guy like him. Still, his unanswered suspicions weren't placated as Gomora took the papers into his hands, folded them back up to a size smaller than their original state, and slid them into his pocket.
"I'll deal with it later", he said, dismissively, settling himself back against the couch.
"It's nothing important."
They went back to watching television with something of a forced countenance between them, and the smaller Experiment felt it and knew it. He wondered whether Gomora felt it, too, and wondered just how much of an actor his host was - hiding things, avoiding certain subjects. Nikita felt the aforementioned twinge of irritation turn into annoyance. He slid off of the couch and excused himself to use the restroom.
He entered the room to vent his frustration. Among the cyclopean sink, shower, and toilet (which especially gave him trouble, and which he reserved to use only in the most dire of needs), he brooded angrily on the red Experiment's reluctance on certain matters. After all, for somebody who was left alone while Gomora attended to his unspecified job, didn't he have a right to know at least where he was always disappearing to? For somebody who had asked him to stay, for no reason other than a forced companionship, didn't Gomora feel as though his guest deserved to know for what he left him for, every once in a while? What kind of a host could justify this amount of secrecy towards a guest whom he had gone as far as to claim feelings for?
He sat down heavily on the raised edge of the shower, flustered. How rude of Gomora. What an idiot. Wasn't he, Niki, even worth telling these things to? On second thought, he probably was a hooker; all those muscles and the sword and the music didn't mean anything – he might still do it while nobody else was watching. Gomora would.
Nikita brooded in aggression for a while, his hands squeezing his knees as he thought about what a jerk Gomora was. He sat there for longer than was necessary for most trips to the bathroom, and didn't care what Gomora would think - the hooker.
Repeated emphasis on the idea settled him, though: he realized that the idea was far from probable, and thus returned to his central complaint: secrecy, and Gomora not being as truthful as he may be. It was still an angering thought, but the voice within his head overrode it by mentioning a tact of secrecy a little closer to home…
Niki knew he hadn't lied about anything, or even avoided the truth about something Gomora had ever asked him. True, Gomora hadn't asked about too much in Niki's life, but the younger Experiment cooled down as he began to ponder whether or not he would avoid telling his host about his own past, should he ever be asked. He had no idea how he would respond – probably not with the truth, if it would be told, but perhaps with the same aversion to the answer. Maybe even an outright lie. Niki knew that Gomora enjoyed to spin tales about endeavors which supposedly happened prior in his life (seducing popstars, and of the sort), but…was telling tales about something that wasn't real any different from a real-life experience that you didn't tell anybody about?
Suddenly, he felt increasingly wrong and insincere about his anger. Not that he might have misplaced it, but that being angry may be exceedingly hypocritical…at least at this point.
Niki started to wonder what he had meant with his last thought, but didn't bother for too long – he had begun to feel a bit silly sitting around the bathroom.
Though he didn't necessarily show it, Gomora sat on the couch in a state of total anxiety. There was no way that Nikita could know anything at all about the piece of paper he had intercepted other than what he had read, but the thought of it troubled the older Experiment to no end. He knew it was on Nikita's mind – he had felt the mechanics of his guest's head churning as they both had sat in silence, pretending to watch television. Nikita suspected something, and he didn't just go to the bathroom to use it – he had to be pondering the matter behind the closed door.
Half-baked explanations and excuses raced through Gomora's head, but he knew that Nikita was too intelligent to be turned by such means. Gomora's eyes slid from the screen and drifted out of focus as he fought the urge to place his knuckles against his forehead in frustration.
"Why the hell did I forget the damn papers in the car?"
In the corner of his eye, he saw the bathroom door open, but before Niki could step back into the living room, Gomora had reset a less-questionable expression on his face.
"Feeling better?", asked the crimson host with a playful chuckle.
His guest nodded, remembering only now that he had not flushed the toilet to plausify his excuse.
"…Yeah."
Nikita came to a stop before the glass table. He turned his head to Gomora, and eyed the television. Gomora's fluency in reading body-language made it no secret to him that Niki was only putting off a short moment to question or mention something more-than-trivial to him. He braced himself for the worst, though he didn't show this as Niki turned back to his face him.
"Gomora…I want to go back to the club."
His relief, surprise, and utter bewilderment, Gomora figured, must've made for one very interesting expression that he was afraid he was none too successful in covering up; he hoped that his comrade wouldn't concern himself with what he thought the larger Experiment had been expecting him to say.
"…Oh-!", he finally managed, reworking his posture out of his previous cramped slouch.
"The club…yeah, sure!...but why?"
Shifting his weight from one foot to another, and looking a bit uncomfortable of whatever he was thinking, Niki fumbled for the right answer;
"Well…um…I thought I'd…you…did you ever…talk to those two girls who were serving drinks there?"
"Luna and Sula?", replied Gomora.
"…No, I didn't. But Argo might've let them know that you're okay."
Niki didn't look satisfied.
"Luna was pretty upset about what happened…"
"Yeah, but…well, that's her. Can't really blame her for bein' upset."
"You yelled at her pretty loud…"
Gomora didn't reply to this - before he could think of something to say, Nikita went on;
"I want to go back there, and let them know I'm okay – so she doesn't have to worry anymore. …I feel like a ruined the evening for a lot of people, that night…", he added, looking ashamed.
"That wasn't your fault!", Gomora replied, quick to find the words this time.
"And besides, if anybody ruined the evening, it was me – making a fool of myself, like you said."
"I didn't say that…"
The exchange died down for a moment or two, and the dialogue of the television program's characters took the floor;
"…not that it matters, but I should've known before. Now, they're all going to get away, with what belongs to us! – Don't be discouraged; they're too large in numbers to get too much of a head start. We could beat them to the Numbcheney, if only we find another cruiser small enough to pass them… - Did somebody mention small cruisers?!"
"…That'd be okay", Gomora concluded, after the moment of silence.
"If you wanted to, that'd be just fine."
"Thank you", Nikita replied, quietly, and continued to stand before the table for a few seconds, awkwardly, before resuming his seat on the forgiving couch.
"Umm…when'd we be going?"
"Tomorrow", answered Gomora, who was already considering how he was going to survive an evening in the same building with a certain angry bargirl.
"Argo and Aries will be there tomorrow, and…yeah; best to have somebody big to put between us and…"
Not naïve at all, Niki didn't need Gomora to finish his statement to catch the meaning of his concern.
"Either it's a down-day for the church of the all-nosy shrews, or Zeph's been busy tonight", commented Gomora as he and Nikita stepped over the threshold of Nebular's and into the club, where "trance hour" appeared to be in full swing.
The tables along the side of the floor had somehow been raised at least a dozen feet off of the ground, and poles seemed to have extended from their centers, which were being gripped and used as dancing aides to the one or more party-goers that occupied each tabletop. Everybody, it seemed, was wearing some sort of reflective apparel in the blue laser lights, and everybody who wasn't on a table, it seemed, was occupying the dance floor. Nebular's top-box was bouncing up and down. Several guys had their shirts off. Even some girls were topless, alongside their dancing partners.
Before he even stepped onto the glass-tiled floor, Niki began having some reservations – few things, after all, could prepare him for something like this.
Yet he took comfort in being able to stick close to Gomora, whom he could at least put between himself and anything as loud as a dancefloor. Not that Gomora appeared any less raucous than the collective group on the floor – adorned in a black, red-dyed muscle shirt (embossed with the slogan "Hairy & Scary") and bright-orange slacks (not to mention reflective cufflinks), he looked rightly ready to jump into that dazzling, sweaty crowd. He certainly seemed entertained by it.
"Looks like we arrived just in time, huh?", he shouted in Niki's ear over the noise of the music and the crowd, even managing to drown out the ceaseless buzzing in Niki's head.
The smaller Experiment pulled his arms close to him in response, feeling more than a bit insecure in the midst of this environment – this amount of noise just didn't agree with him. On top of that, Gomora had somehow convinced him not to revolt against the idea of wearing a fairly low-cut, short-sleeved shirt of a bright lavender color, and a pair of lined, green denims; he had insisted that both of these articles had been among those he had purchased for him at the mall, but Niki was adamant in his belief that he had never hoped to look as flashy as he did now, and that this particular section of his wardrobe was not acquired in his own knowing. He had insisted that he at least wear a small jacket over the very questionable attire.
On the bright side, he figured it would help him remain as inconspicuous as he could be in the club, for aside from delivering his intended reassurances to Luna, Sula, and possibly the DJ, he hoped not to be the center of attention on this specific night - he'd be happy to remain in the background, and was pleased that Gomora kept both of them far away from the dancefloor: they remained standing against the wall, next to the exit, and watched the action from there. There was, after all, no reason to have a seat, as the tables were still all occupied and up in the air. Instead, both of them watched a shirtless Luik embrace his rather furry dancing partner and pull him into a kiss, which he accepted with gusto, wrapping an arm around the Luik's moist back and sliding his spare paw beneath the hem of his pants…
Before they could go much further, however, the song ended with an electronic bang and the conventional lights blasted on. The couple wasn't the only one that untangled amidst the sweaty mass of flesh and fur and scales, as a small cheer went up from the crowd, apparently directed at DJ Nebular, who was wiping his brow and pulling his phones off of his ears as his box feebly fell back to its docking port.
"Ah, don't you just love a nice remix?", he commented over the microphone.
"Okay, let's cool down just a bit…"
A considerable amount of the crowd vacated the dancefloor as a slightly quieter track began, dispersing towards either the bar, the tables, or the loft. Gomora nudged a bemused Niki in the shoulder, and the pair moved towards the table they had occupied during their last visit. They arrived just as the table-top reached its regular altitude, and off of it jumped three giggling bird-like boys who immediately headed for the bar.
"They didn't even ask, you know", came the unmistakable,, volcanic voice of Argo over the cacophony of other voices, as the bluish-grey giant – unmistakable by way of his unparalleled form and glowing red eye – made his way over to the seated pair of Experiments, Aries the Dragon in-hand.
"Just came right up to the table and hopped on it when the poles came up."
The massive shorca retrieved a jacket that he had left at his seat and pulled it over his moistened white tank-top before having a seat. Next to him scooted Aries, who looked quite tired out, with messy hair and a sleeveless "Save The Trees" shirt, and gave a nod of ascent as he leaned wearily against the back of the booth.
"Yup, they sure did", he said to the ceiling as he leaned his head back.
"Didn't look like it bothered either of you two – never thought you'd be dancing down there, Argo", replied Gomora as he adjusted his and Niki's seat to the optimum altitude.
The mountainous medic broke into an unabashed grin as he sought his mate's hand with his own, and placed both of their wrists on the table.
"Oh, I have this lil' cutie to thank for that", he insisted, gazing affectionately at the bushed Dragon.
"Told me that if I loved him, I'd get on the floor with him."
"Mmm…and he loves me a whole lot", murred Aries, his eyes half-open as he leaned his head against Argo's shoulder.
"Moved more than I've ever seen him…well, at some timesss…"
He uttered the last word with a playful hiss, and Argo chuckled as he placed the arm around his shoulders.
Gomora scanned the vicinity of the bar and dancefloor as Aries pressed a kiss against Argo's jaw, while Niki remained unsure of where to look or whom to watch.
"Are Luna and Sula around?", Gomora asked, looking back at the couple across the table, both of who immediately opened their eyes to their friend in some surprise.
"…Yeah, they're both here – they're up on the loft", Argo was first to reply.
"But why you wanna see them?", Aries posed.
"I don't think they want to see you…'least not you, Gomora, but they think your boyfriend's cute…"
Gomora started to stammer, but was quick to bring himself back to the original inquiry, while Nikita's shade of pinkish-peach turned as crimson as Gomora's fur;
"That's-…well, we wanted t'talk to them about that. I wanted to apologize for yelling at them…and Niki wanted to apologize for not tolerating the drink he was given."
Aries found something funny about this and sniggered, but Argo's brow furrowed sympathetically as he turned his gaze on Niki. Blinking while his electronic eye remained stationary.
"Nikita…you shouldn't think you need to apologize for what happened – it wasn't your fault at all. Everybody who was here knows that."
"…Just wanted to let them know that I'm okay – I don't want them worrying", replied Niki, slinking back against his seat.
The shorca nodded. He gave Aries a small shake ("Hush – it's not funny") before indicating towards the loft, turning his head slightly, so that Niki caught sight of the case of his electronic eye against his right temple.
"Well, they'll probably be down in a few minutes, and then you can-"
"Oh, I don't think I can wait for that, big guy", interrupted the crimson Experiment, shaking his head with a nervous smile as he began to slide off of his seat, urging Niki to follow him.
"If Sula's still hot about it, I figure I'll save my reputation if not too many see what she'll do to me."
Both Aries and Argo chuckled, and Argo replied;
"Oh, nobody will see you being thrown from the loft onto the floor, Gomora?"
"Well, at least there's a doctor in the house, huh?"
With that, and both Experiments on the floor, Gomora began to lead his younger guest around the length of the dancefloor, past the tables and the doors to the 'privacy rooms', and around the floor's edge to the stairs to the loft. They passed a sole reptilian character as they ascended the steps – four or five meters to the top.
"What happened to Argo's eye?", Niki asked Gomora as they neared the top.
"Long story", replied the larger Experiment, hurriedly, with obviously other things on his mind.
"Not my place to say. Maybe he'll tell you, some time."
They reached the top without another word. The loft was a far less raucous place than Nikita had imagined – it looked almost like an entirely different club, made up of a den-like space in which stood a number of smaller tables and couches. There weren't nearly as many occupants on this level, it seemed – barely a dozen, and none taller than six or seven feet. They lounged about, some of them smoking, and some of them sipping drinks from delicate-looking glasses…which, Niki made out, were largely being served from large, silver trays by the distinctive Luna and Sula.
DJ Nebular's topbox stood some ways off to the center of the railing. The club-owner, his hair as prominent as before, and wearing a yellow t-shirt, looked content to enjoy a slow period after the rave: nearly slumped over on his control deck, he reached down into what appeared to be a rack of audio cassettes when he caught sight of the pair of Experiments standing at the stair's edge. He smiled in surprise, and wordlessly waved them over. He pulled his headphones from around his neck and set them on the deck as the pair approached.
"Glad to see you're feeling better", he said to Nikita.
"Almost as glad that you didn't sue my club…or am I speaking too soon?"
He was sincere, Niki could tell, about what he said, as well as his humor, but he was pretty tired as well. But it was a good kind of tired, Niki noted – tired from an honest job. Without even knowing the meaning of it, Niki could see that DJ Nebular loved his job.
"I'm fine, thank you", he replied with a small nod.
Nebular held out a hand to Niki, who noticed a band on his wrist embroidered with "WyBreak YesterYear" as he took it. Nebular's grip was fairly limp.
"Call me Nebular. Or Neb", he said, giving a small shake.
"Then again, you probably already figured that. Tell you what – you can call me Cat. Not everybody gets to call me that. I'm sorry about what happened a few nights ago."
"Don't worry about it…Cat."
"'Cat Nebular'?", repeated Gomora – the DJ's first name a legitimate surprise to him.
"Don't you call me that", said the DJ as he retracted his hand.
"Only your roomie's entitled to that."
He grinned softly at the statement and leaned back against the shell of his topbox.
"So what brings you two fine fellas up to my lounging lair? – you don't look like wine-drinkers."
Gomora inclined his head towards the reclining area and replied;
"We both wanted to have a word with Luna and Sula – figured we'd try to save a relationship."
Cat Nebular gazed over his customers in the loft. He nodded, and reached back into his box to pull out a pre-opened can of some liquid which he took a sip from.
"That's a good idea, Gom'. Luna's still gets upset when I mention it. Sula-girl is hatin' your guts, though, Gomy – you might wanna go in with a chair and a whip. Not that that'd stop her if she decided to get after you."
"I'll take my chances", said Gomora with a nervous laugh.
"C'mon, Niki – you see about Luna, I'll go…"
He trailed off, and likewise moved off onto the light crowd of the loft. Nikita and Nebular watched him go. Nebular had a sip from his drink and nodded to Niki.
"You up to it?"
"I think so."
"Get ready for tears."
"Oh! Niki! Niki! Niki!"
There came a crash from behind, the shattering of breaking glass, and a moment later, Nikita felt himself being hugged desperately against what he knew were a pair of sizeable breasts, as Luna the Luik, on her knees, sobbed into his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry!", she wailed.
"I didn't know! I didn't mean to make you drunk! I only thought you'd like an XD because other people did! I promise I'll never give you an XD again! Never, never!"
Niki's face was burning redder than he had ever known it to, and he wasn't sure whether it was because it seemed he was once again the center of attention…or because there were a set of boobs up against his shoulders. DJ Nebular looked as though he was making an effort not to laugh, with his mouth pulled into a combination smile-grimace. Nonetheless, he lowered himself down to his knees and gently attempted to pry the female Luik off of the small Experiment.
"Luna, Luna…", he said, soothingly.
"Don't smother him…he's not angry at you, hun."
"Honestly!", Niki enforced, as she was finally brought off of him, and he was able to turn around to face her.
Her face already tear-stricken from barely twelve seconds of crying, The tray of drinks which she had dropped when she had spotted Niki was about a dozen feet behind her. She remained on her knees as she attempted to control the sobs that were shaking her entire luminous body.
"Oh, Niki…I'm so sorry - that was your first night at the club, and I ruined it for you…"
"I'm okay!", insisted, Nikita, reaching out his hands (apprehensively at first) to place them on Luna's bare shoulders (she was wearing a lime-colored top and silver highwater pants).
"I came to tell you that - I'm okay!...it didn't hurt me at all!"
Luna sniffed, and accepted a tissue that Nebular pressed on her to dab her face with.
"I just thought…I had poisoned you", she mewed, quietly.
"Gomora was so mad, I thought I must've killed you. They told me you were okay, but I was so afraid. I thought I'd be fired…"
"Oh no – you'd need to do in at least three of my customers before I did that", chuckled Nebular, and before she could reply, had hoisted her to her feet, so that both of them towered over Niki again.
"I know", she said, drying her eyes.
"But Niki's…just so small and fluffy, and I thought I hurt him…oh Niki, I'm so sorry; I really should've brought you exactly what you'd ordered."
"It's okay…it's okay", he said again, glad to see her less hysterical than she was; he motioned towards the try and broken glasses on the floor behind her, in an attempt to lighten the situation.
"…I thought you didn't usually serve people here like that?"
"Oh…it was Nebby's idea", replied Luna, blowing her nose delicately before handing the tissue back to the DJ.
"He thought it'd help service up here…and he was right – there's more folks here now than ever. Sula's not to happy about it…where is she, anyway?"
She looked around, suddenly free from all tears.
"I drop a tray, and she doesn't even notice it? Where is that woman?"
"Oh, I think she's plenty busy for the moment…I'm surprised we can't hear her, though…", replied Nebular, looking around the loft for signs of a struggle.
"Huh? What do you mean?", asked Luna, before leaning down to Nikita.
"What's he talking about?"
"Oh! – there they are!...and Gomora's still standing!", exclaimed Nebular suddenly, indicating towards the far end of the loft, from which were approaching, both looking calm enough but slightly tense, the scaly Sula and an abashed-looking Gomora.
The frequenters at the tables and in the couches finally took their concerns off of the gathering near the DJ's booth that had begun with the falling tray and the wailing Luna, and returned to sipping "O'q'n'deoui" as the Experiment and the serpentine female joined the congregation.
"Apology accepted, Nikita", said Sula, before anything else.
"But please accept my apology for wanting to kill your roommate for the last week. He just managed to talk me out of it."
"Uh…sure, yes", Niki was quick to respond, not really knowing what else to say.
Gomora certainly looked worn as he took a stance next to Niki; he rubbed his head, and tried to manage a smile, but flinched as Sula addressed him sharply;
"Got something to say, fuzzy?"
He raised a shifty eyebrow to Sula before raising his entire head to Luna.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you", he said, somewhat softly.
"…Wasn't your fault, and I won't do it again."
The blonde Luik swooped down upon him, and amidst quite a bit of surprise, hugged him around his neck and kissed him on his furry, fiery cheek.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Gomy", she insisted, before placing an arm around Sula's waist and playfully patted her hand.
"Suly, you didn't hurt him, did you?"
Nebular yawned as the two ladies began conversing, and Gomora leaned lightly against Nikita's shoulder, emitting a soft groan. The DJ glanced at a watch that was attached to his belt, and made a motion towards the taller of the two pairs in front of him.
"Luna? Sula?...please clean up that mess before somebody hurts themselves…", he advised, before turning towards Gomora and his guest and adding;
"You two might wanna take a trip back downstairs – you'll know why. Go on."
He saw them off with a tired shooing motion, and the two Experiments headed towards the stairs, stepping over the mess of glass and wine on the floor, to which Sula and her girlfriend attended to the next moment.
"That went well, huh?", Niki said with a small chuckle as they began to descend the steps.
Gomora gave Niki a bit of a morbid look, and shook his head.
"Could've been worse, I guess…"
"What did she have to say?"
"Oh, don't ask…but I'm gonna need a drink or something. Luna needs to clean up and tend to me…"
They had made their way down the stairs and about halfway across the dancefloor when the lights dimmed. Gomora reached back and took Niki by the wrist and quickened their pace, but they were unable to beat the voice of the DJ, sounding suddenly vitalized and deep, spoke over the club sound-system;
"All you couples, on the floor…I got a romantic one for all of ya…"
Before the pair of Experiments, there came a flood of bodies and legs, as seemingly most of the club rose from the tables and hurried onto the lighted tiles of the dance area. Pushed by the onslaught of eager couples, Nikita and Gomora had to fight to keep from being knocked onto their backs, and very much against their wills, quickly found themselves walled in, in the center of the dancefloor, the glass tiles of which were flickering into a mellow shade. Gomora angrily tapped the knees of a larger character in front of him.
"Hey! – give us some room, huh?"
But he was left without an response – a chord of music was struck over the sound system, and the eyes of the creature whom Gomora has addressed turn soft and affectionate as he eyed his equally-large partner, whose hands he gently took into his own, and the two began to sway to the sweet-sounding ballad that had begun to play.
Nikita looked up, and all around him, as couples embraced and began moving to the tune of song, whose first vocals gently cooed;
"I saw you walkin' down the street, waaays back…didn't know how someone like you, could be alooone…"
Couples held hands. They hugged. And kissed. Niki saw the faces of those in love. The constant buzzing inside of his head was momentarily alleviated as he sighed softly, caught up amidst the strong emotions of those who crowded him and Gomora, yet left him feeling as though he were the only creature left on the planet – alone.
He wondered if he really had ever known what it was like to touch someone else…like that: tenderly, lovingly, with awe and affection, and be touched like that in return. Had anybody ever really looked at him like that? – as though he were the only important thing in all of the universe? Had he ever wanted anybody as much as these couples around him seemed to want eachother?
Before him, a vest-wearing nvyian leaned his face in close to his partner's - another nvyian - and gently pressed his lips against those of his partner. They smiled softly at eachother, and gently stroked up and down eachother's backs.
Niki sighed again. Memories of being with Mel, especially those of their last hours together, seemed an eternity away – almost dream-like in their wavering consistency, made incoherent by the very sure fact that he would never be able to relive them again. These memories, as he stood among the affections of the dancefloor, were cruel: he could only see his lover through his mind's eye – an image so beautiful, so worth living and dying for, that it hardly seemed real, anymore.
He felt so very unloved – because the one who had loved him would never say those words to him ever again.
"Niki?"
Nikita turned. There was Gomora, still only inches away from him, but all of the irritation and tension of the confrontation with Sula and being trapped by a forest of legs seemed to have lifted from his face. He was looking very tender. Emotional. Open.
"Would…would you like to dance with me?"
The peach-furred Experiment wouldn't have known whether to call the request uncalled for or unfair even if he had the time to think about it. His intuition was to reject it, and to know for sure that he didn't want to dance with Gomora…but that didn't seem the case: something in his head was cooing to him that it was alright to do so - to dance with Gomora. There was, after all, no harm in it. Nothing to be lost. And there was nothing better to do amidst the trappings of the rest of the partiers.
Rather than consider his complicated emotions, Nikita nodded gently, and let Gomora step carefully towards him.
Neither of them, it seemed, knew where to start, and it was only after a few half-hearted attempt to take the other's hands or arms that they finally agreed upon lightly laying their hands on their hips and shoulders – Gomora's hands on Nikita's hips, who put his palms upon Gomora's shoulders.
There was nothing bad about it, Niki told himself again and again, as the two of them began to sway slowly, uneasily to the ballad, which was slowly rising: after all, they both generally agreed they had a hormonal liking for guys over females, so there was nothing wrong with the idea of two guys dancing together, even if one of those guys was himself. They had to do something, it seemed, other than stand around and wait for the song to be over, and trudge back to their seats. And how discomfited would it have been if he had refused Gomora, and they would've just stood there while everybody else danced? Pretty embarrassing, Niki figured, as he glanced from Gomora's well-sculpted chest, to his at-a-distance face, and away from him entirely.
"Umm….you look really good tonight…", he heard Gomora say quietly to him, as they swayed.
"…Thanks…", he replied, even more quietly, as he watched their feet.
"…Do you like this song?"
"Yeah…it's pretty good"
"…I thought you didn't like this kind of music…"
"Hmm?"
"Well…I though you only liked…heavier stuff…"
"S'not the only kind of music I like…"
The song reached its bridge, and Niki raised his eyes to Gomora's; he found, for the first time, that behind their black, layered opulence, they had a brown tinge to them. He might've figured the idea odd – to be looking at Gomora's eyes, while a huge couple behind them nearly tripped over their own feet and crushed them both. Neither of the two Experiments, however, took notice of this, as they subconsciously took the rhythm of the song into their steps, continually losing political awareness of the way they were touching eachother.
"Hey…look up here, a second", came Nebular's voice over the speaker system.
Little had Niki realized that he and Gomora were positioned almost directly underneath the DJ's box. Niki looked up at Cat Nebular…and if he wasn't very mistaken, found him looking directly at him, with an odd sort of grin on his face.
"Oh...sorry, never mind", he saw his lips form, as his voice was magnified over the speakers.
Nebular smiled, somewhat humbled at the crowd, but proceeded to wink…an action which, Niki was sure, again, was directed at him.
He turned his head back to Gomora – and whether by accident or by a brilliant plan of baiting and positioning by the DJ and him, Gomora's and Nikita's lip met.
It was only for a prolonged instant, for as soon as he realized what was going on, Nikita had pulled his face away from Gomora's with a terrified gasp, and stared wordlessly at the Experiment he was dancing with. Be it the situation or something else, he found himself unable to read Gomora's face – somewhere between extreme surprise at his own actions and a kind of quiet achievement Gomora's emotions seemed to stand, leaving Nikita without any idea of how to react. He tried to speak, but no words came out of his mouth – he didn't know what to say. The kiss had been just as surreal as he had always imagined it would be.
The buzzing was alive in his head again, and was growing sharply in intensity. It almost hurt. He might've cried out in anguish had Gomora not been there to lean against. Telling himself again and again that it was purely an instinct of survival - one of the few things inside of him that was functioning properly - he slowly leaned against Gomora's chest. He didn't look at his face, but he placed his head against one of his powerful shoulders, keeping his eyes wide open at everything else.
It helped – the buzzing was subsiding, and not coming back. He felt Gomora's arms across his back – slowly, awkwardly. What was Gomora thinking? – was he happy about this unexpected turn, the subsequencies of which he couldn't see? Was he as surprised as Niki was?
Why was he considering Gomora's thoughts? Did it even matter what Gomora thought?
Not for now, at least, Niki told himself. For the innocent reason of completing the picture, he placed his arms around Gomora's lower back, and wondered what the two of them looked like, still swaying, but in eachother's arms as though they cared this much for eachother.
He would worry about it later, and would ask Gomora (with much irritation and fury, he promised himself) what he had meant by that kiss, and assure him that this embrace meant absolutely nothing: he was only playing along to make his head stop hurting. It was as simple as that.