"Stop fidgeting."
"This suit is ridiculous."
And he's right, it is, but he's playing the part of a millionaire's stupid and profligate son with money to blow. His pink blazer is loose and light on him, open to reveal the mostly unbuttoned button-up underneath. His pleated pants are pink too, fashionably half-a-size too big on him to fit in with the crowd at the club. His hair is parted the same as usual, but slicked down with gel and the tiny gold hoops in his ears are a testament to his commitment to the X-Men.
"That's the point," Amara says, delicately avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk as they skip the line. "They aren't going to bother with you if you don't look the part."
And she's just part of the ensemble. Her pink tube dress is tight and short. It has no sleeves, so the tiny iridescent sequins are digging into the underside of her arms, but she sucks it up and marches on in her matching pink stilettos. Even the big gold hoops dangling from her ears are designed to compliment the little ones in his. Altogether, she's the world's best accessory.
"I still think Roberto or even Ray should be the one playing this part," he admits. He looks at her again, scanning her from head to toe before saying, "You guys are the ones who do this stuff, not me."
His eyes on her make her feel warm. And he's right again. Roberto's a player, Ray's a conman, and Amara's been raised to smile at rich men her whole life. They usually played the Face on missions like these.
"But you're the one who looks like Tyler Levron," she reminds him, reaching up to brush his hair back into place with a newly manicured finger.
Amara looks down at his fingers, covered in gold rings and clenched at his sides. She reaches out to take his hand in hers.
"Plus I'll be with you the whole time," she assures him and Bobby squeezes her hand. "If you ever forget what to say, just pretend like you're kissing my neck and I'll feed you a line."
He blushes red and a chill starts in the core of her behind her navel, making her skin tingle where his hand is locked in hers.
"Name."
"Tyler Levron."
The bouncer scans Bobby's nervous face and then his clipboard. Sensing the tension, Amara lets go of his hand and puts it on her hip instead, pressing herself against his side. He squeezes her hipbone through the sequined fabric, sending a jolt through her body that makes her bite her lip and come away with gloss on her teeth. Bobby relaxes against her and manages to smile at the bouncer when he unclips the velvet rope and lets them inside.
Inside it's dark and smells heavy, like too much perfume to cover up the smell of too much smoke. It's the kind of place where the absolute dregs of high society go to feel like they're classier than they are. Men in million-dollar suits grope women in jewel-encrusted cocktail dresses. Everywhere she looks she sees nip slips and loose dicks, couples and throuples tucked away in corners necking and fucking. The crystal chandeliers above them reflect colored lights on the throbbing masses below them.
Behind the bar, Ray blends seamlessly with the other bartenders. Nearby, Rahne brings hors d'oeuvres to a table of men huddled close to hear each other over the thumping music.
Bobby presses his nose against her temple to say, "VIP is back there."
She looks across the sea of bodies to the private seating behind a curtain of glittery metal chains. Another bouncer stands guard.
She stands on her tiptoes to say in his ear, "Hold on, I'll get you there."
Amara takes the lead, sliding around the dance floor and past the dimly lit booths. They pass Dani, dancing with a stranger in a little black romper. Bobby keeps his hands on Amara's hips the whole time, thumbs pressing into her back through her dress. His grip gets tighter as they get closer.
"Bobby, you have to relax," she says when they reach the back.
He nods, but he doesn't get any looser. His eyes are fixed on the men behind the chain-link curtain. His hands are now starting to hurt, so she twists out of his grip and grabs his chin. When he looks down at her, his nostrils flare.
"Focus. This is just one big prank. And you're great at pranks."
He smiles a little at that. "Yeah, I am."
She smiles back and brushes his hair back into place again. He looks handsome and if she were just a girl out with her man, she'd be proud to walk in with him. Bobby licks his lip.
"You can't keep looking at me like that, 'Mar."
His gaze is heavier now, resting deep in the pit of her in a way that makes her blood thrum in her veins.
"I don't have a name, remember. I'm just here to make you look good."
"Mission accomplished."
Her face burns hot and she turns to approach the bouncer. Bobby's close behind her, much more relaxed than he was when they walked in.
"Tyler Levron," he says with a swagger that he didn't have a few minutes ago.
The bouncer repeats the name into an ear piece and waits for a response. Amara looks around at the room, at the men's grasping hands, at the women's writhing bodies. She wondered how many of them knew what was actually going on right under their noses, or if they too were victims of the drug that Professor X was trying to investigate.
Amara moves the arm that Bobby has draped over her shoulder so that his hand is resting on her ass. He tenses again, but she elbows him and he forces himself to relax. By the time the bouncer turns back around, she's tucked into his side. Like this is normal, like they do this every day.
"You can go in. Not her."
She can see Bobby fishing for a response, looking between Amara and the guard, so she takes the lead.
"Baby," she whines, resting her chin on his side to pout up at him. "Don't leave me out here with these creeps."
Squeezing her closer, he waves a finger in the guard's face and says, "Tell your boss that he's losing the deal if I have to leave her out here. She stays with me."
Amara glares petulantly at the bouncer for good measure and when he relays the message to his boss, the response he gets is to unclip the velvet rope for the both of them.
Amara walks ahead of him, using his hand to stay balanced on the steps. She reaches the top and parts the curtain for him, letting him be the first to walk inside.
"You just had to bring your piece, huh?"