Thank you Kimzy, cimfam32, and multiple guests for the comments, and to everyone that read chapter 1! I'm so happy you're as excited about this story as I am.
Chapter 2 is a short one - more introductory than anything else.
I did forget to mention that this story will be smut heavy. All chapters will have a warning at the top as well as indicators for start and end of smut so you can adjust your reading according to your comfort.
Enjoy :)
It always struck him as weird that he'd been voted in as Vice President of the Dragon Riders. Riven had never been a people person, and he was big enough to admit that he wasn't much of a team player. He should be after having been raised as part of the Dragons, but he just got so frustrated when people half assed their tasks. It was easier to work alone where he knew he could rely on himself. It was why he became a Mayhem – a part of the team with extensive knowledge of explosives, firearms and anything else that allowed him to work alone. Riven considered that he may have been voted VP because he was a legacy – his father being the current President – but it may also be because he was good at what he did and, even if he didn't work well in teams, he always considered what was best for the club. It could also be that the only other person to throw their hat in the ring was a bit of a moron.
His father, Eirik, had become President 16 years ago after the former chief bit the bullet – almost literally. His death had been a gruesome affair: first bullet right to the jaw, followed by several rounds through the neck and chest. They'd had a closed casket funeral. Riven had become VP 2 years ago after the previous VP had been excommunicated. He'd ratted on a brother – you didn't do that in this world. The only reason he'd been excommunicated instead of killed was that he had a kids and their mom had died of cancer the year before. The Dragons didn't mess around when it came to those that caused damage to their group, but they valued family above everything else.
Family. Fucking bullshit in Riven's opinion. His dad had no issues beating him as a child – that didn't exactly scream family man to Riven. His family, his real family, were the people he chose. There were only a few people he would consider family without hesitation: Nabu, Helia and Helia's wife, Flora. If pressed he might also include Roxy and Bloom, and, if he was feeling generous, Sky. That wasn't to say he didn't care about his club members – he did – but sometimes he felt they took the whole thing a bit too seriously. He would consider them his friends but wouldn't go as far as family for a lot of them.
"The washrooms here are fucking disgusting" Nabu groaned, taking his seat and groaning more when his sleeve stuck to the table. "This whole place is disgusting."
"It's a dive bar. What the fuck were you expecting?" Riven chuckled. He had to admit that he wasn't fond of the place – it was too sticky, too crowded, too loud – but Tuesday night was dollar beer night, and he was willing to put up with a few inconveniences to get drunk for cheap. Even if it would take him two dozen of the tiny cups they were using.
"My expectations were low, but I was hoping to not stick to the floor when I walk. It's like they wash this place with beer."
"We can go somewhere else if you're just gonna bitch."
Nabu contemplated the offer, but ultimately decided against it. As much as he liked fancier – as in, not sticky – places, even he couldn't pass up a cheap drink. And cheap food. Riven thumbed through the pocketbook sized menu that had been carelessly wedged between the salt and pepper shakers. Fries for a dollar, a burger for three. This place was cheaper than any fast food joint in the city. If he'd known that he wouldn't have had supper before coming. Then again, food that cheap from a place this disgusting was almost a guaranteed case of food poisoning.
"What'd your dad say when you talked to him this afternoon?" Nabu asked, leaning back in his chair.
"I didn't." Riven had been supposed to talk to his dad about a new market that the old man had wanted to tap into: drugs. Riven thought it was a terrible idea. His objection wasn't moral. As a general rule, he didn't give a fuck if people he didn't know wanted to fuck up their lives. His objection was for the sake of the club. Where Eirik saw money, Riven saw dead bodies. Drugs were Angel business and trying to impede on their market would lead to war.
"Not like you to chicken out."
"I didn't chicken out. He was… busy." Balls deep in his barely legal girlfriend was what he'd been when Riven had tried to go see him. Riven had heard the moans from the front door and decided that seeing his dad mid-fuck was not an experience he needed.
Nabu raised his eyebrows curiously, knowing full well that Riven had no qualms about interrupting his father's meetings. Both were fairly certain that Eirik hated that Riven had been voted VP, but even the President didn't get to veto a vote that had been unanimous amongst the members, so he sucked it up.
"What was he do-" Nabu started, cutting off when his phone chimed with the annoyingly stupid tone he'd assigned to whatever girl he was seeing at the time. Nabu had a list of exes a mile long. It was just who he was. Nabu tended to fall quickly and dive headfirst into relationships. It helped that women loved him: he was suave, intelligent, confident and incredibly charming. Riven had had quite a few relationships, but none of them had ended as nicely as Nabu's. Nabu, who was still on cordial, if not friendly, terms with almost all of exes. Riven, on the other hand, was sure all of his ex-girlfriends hated him. Though, really, he couldn't see why they did when he'd made it known at the beginning that he wasn't looking for anything serious.
"It's Amber. She wants to know if I'm free."
"Did she ask that?" Amber was a nice enough girl, but she didn't speak many words. From what little Riven had seen of her and Nabu's texts, Amber seemed to prefer pictures of the seductive variety. "Not in so many words" Nabu admitted with a laugh.
"Go."
"Nah, man. It's our time."
"We see each other just about every day. Go fuck your girlfriend. I'm gonna have another drink and go talk to my dad; I really need to get that done."
"You sure?"
Riven waved him off. Nabu was out the door in a second, leaving behind some cash for Riven to pay for the three beers Nabu had had. Riven grabbed his cup and made his way to the bar. There was no point in a single person taking up a four top. Not when there were so many people standing around waiting for someone to move so they could sit with their friends.
He managed to flag down the bartender and order another beer as he took the open seat at the far end of the bar. He contemplated how he would explain to his dad that the drug idea was a terrible one as he drank. If it came to an explosive argument, so be it if it meant getting it through the old man's thick skull that club members would die for his decision, but he'd prefer that be avoided. Riven considered the multiple ways to approach it but, as much as he hated it, they all ended in an argument. They all ended in his father telling him he was an ungrateful son; that he was clueless; that he was a mistake; that it was his fault that his mother left. All the same crap he'd been told most of his life.
After downing his cup, Riven paid their bill and headed into the washroom. As he was heading back into bar from the bathroom that was about what he'd expected from Nabu's description, a young woman stumbled into his path. She threw her arms him, using his shirt collar to hold herself up. Surprised, Riven took a step back causing the girl to become unbalanced and stumble around in the torture method women called stilettos. He managed to regain his composure quickly enough to catch the girl and guide her towards the two young women running – or trying to – at him from the left to retrieve their friend.
"I'm so sorry about her. She's had a bit too much..." One of the girls apologised, shooting him a thankful smile that Riven presumed was for not being a creep and feeling up her friend after she'd basically tossed herself at him.
"You should probably get her home" Riven muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. The two wrapped their arms around their friend's waist and started leading her back towards the table. The girls leg wobbled with every step and Riven couldn't help thinking that if she couldn't handle her liquor well, she probably shouldn't drink so much. And she definitely shouldn't wear those fucking shoes.
He'd not taken a single step towards the door when he collided with someone. He took a step back to stop himself from falling again, grumbling that people needed to learn to stay out of his fucking way. He was vaguely aware of the feeling of liquid hitting his jeans, but not enough for it to matter. Whoever he'd bumped into had dropped their drink.
"What is it with people in this place?" an angry mumble came from the girl in front of him. "Can't fucking understand what no means or watch where they're going. It's like I missed the sign that says Idiots only on the front door."
"You realise you're in this place too, right?" Geez, what a fucking attitude. And on such a small person no less. She couldn't be more than 5'3 or 4 – she barely reached his shoulder – and she had to have one of the smallest frames he'd ever seen on an adult, or, at least, he thought she did; it was hard to tell under the loose clothes. Dark eyes looked up at him in shock. "Shit. Did I say that out loud?"
"Yeah" Riven chuckled. He should be annoyed with her, but the way her eyes widened and the guilty grimace on her face made her look so cute that he found he couldn't be. The girl loosened a bit and gave a low, breathy laugh of her own. She was pretty. Riven usually hated flirting, and he especially hated picking up girls at bars – it always felt sleazy – so he was surprised when he heard himself asking if he could replace the drink she'd dropped.
Her eyes roamed over him, and she fiddled with one of the loose buns that sat atop her head as she contemplated his offer. He liked the twin buns; they made her look a little spunky and completely adorable. Finally, after an excruciatingly long silence, she said: "sure."
