Jon didn't really like Fuu. That was what I thought, the first week we were together.
One night, she suggested hitting a biker bar, saying she'd seen a group of familiar bikers outside.
We did, asking around, and I had a good time. It was dollar beer night, so I was happy and hammered. Jon sat quietly, sipping a vodka-something-or-other, while Fuu flitted around, flirting here, telling a joke there…it was really quite amazing to see her in action.
She was really way smarter than Jon thought she was. In fact, making him think she was dumb was one of the smartest things she could've done.
But she worked this crowd, getting all the information she needed from a group of psycho asshole bikers who'd break your neck for fun.
I like Fuu, even if Jon didn't.
Twenty minutes later, we walked out, her stumbling more than I knew she had to, him walking slowly beside me.
She was definitely pretending to be drunker than she was, because you talk differently to drunks, you reveal more to them, than you normally do.
She was a bit ahead of us, taking off her shoes.
"Jon, you like Fuu?"
There was another of those infuriating pauses and then, "Yes, I suppose so."
I was surprised, which I guess he could tell because he leaned in, while her back was turned, and looked like he was going to kiss me.
Instead, he bit my lower lip, and I yelped, making Fuu turn around to see what was up.
"Let's go clubbing," she said it first. I was thinking it, though. I really didn't want to hit the flophouse we were staying at so early in the night.
"C'mon, Jon, that's a great idea!"
He seemed scared. Or I would've thought he looked scared if it weren't for who he is.
The bouncers didn't even bat an eye as Fuu strolled in, past them and so obviously fifteen.
Jon and I got looked over, patted down and then admitted.
"Did the guy who patted you down grab your junk?"
He laughed, but I thought I saw a blush creep across his face.
"Oh, shit, he totally did, didn't he?"
Jon just shook his head.
"You? Did he, as you put it, grab your 'junk'?"
"Yeah, it was weird. I wouldn't've minded if it was you, but him? Fuck that."
"I'm going to say something," he turned, ready to wreck havoc on the grabby bouncer.
"The Hell you will," I replied, grabbing him and pulling him against me.
"Now, let's dance," I said, loud, over the music.
He moved unsurely, shuffling a little and looking around. I laughed, finding the rhythm of the music and dancing my ass off. He was impressed, that much I could tell, but he still looked uncomfortable.
"I'm getting a drink."
"Huh?"
"I said I'm GETTING A DRINK."
"Oh, me too."
We found Fuu at the bar, entertaining the masses with a long story. All eyes were on her, and it was obviously a funny story, 'cause every couple minutes somebody laughed.
"So then, I run into this queer looking Viking and his blonde boyfriend, oh, there they are! I was just telling how we met."
I looked at Jon, ready to see him slap her hard, but instead, I saw him smiling, and then he fucking laughed. I guess he did like Fuu all right.
"If that guy's gay, then my tits are plastic," a buxom, short little redhead said. Serious, her tits were big.
I smiled wolfishly at her, scooping her up and taking her seat.
"Hey!"
"Sorry carrot-top, my legs are tired."
"Why don't I join you, on your lap?"
"My boyfriend might not like it." I looked at Jon, amazed to see he hadn't bailed or killed me yet.
Instead, he cracked a smile and sat down, on my lap.
"You'll pay for this later," he whispered in my ear.
"Can't wait," I replied.
Fuu got everyone drinks, paying with some poor bastard's card. Clever as always, I don't think she even picked his pocket to get it. I think she just sweet-talked her way into it. I swear to god she's the kind of girl you all in love with, bad.
Later, when she was actually drunk, she let me dance with her. She was aggressive, grinding up against me like the rent was due.
But I danced back. Her hands were everywhere, but y'know, so were mine. I was thinking about her the whole time, 'til Jon grabbed me by the neck.
She didn't notice, her back was turned to me and she was looking for her biker I think, but Jon held me by the throat and kissed me.
"You're still mine."
His words hung on my ears, and after the song ended, I tapped Fuu and told her I was hitting the bathroom.
She smiled and asked Jon to dance. He looked petrified. I laughed.
When I came back, I ran into Jon. Apparently, I took too long and he ran out of excuses for not dancing with Fuu.
Speaking of, I didn't see her on the floor, and I got the feeling something was going down.
Eventually, Jon spotted her, having some kind of argument with some snide, burly looking asshole.
We got through the crowd quick. She looked legitimately scared.
He grabbed her wrist when she turned to run and said, "We're not done here, bitch."
Jon flipped his shit, lunged at the guy and broke his nose.
"Fuck," was all I could say, getting ready to fight a big guy with a broken nose and six of his closest friends.
I hate to brag, but when I fight, it looks damn good. It's like Capoeira and break dancing and dirty, nameless tricks all rolled together. Even on my back, I'm dangerous.
Jon, however, is a very straightforward fighter. He was a little flushed, (damned if he ain't a lightweight), but I knew, even drunk he could kick whoever's ass with his jujutsu, (I think that's what he does but I don't really remember).
So, we fight. Both of us are so quick and fast it doesn't matter if you're the strongest as long as you're faster than the other guy.
Winning a fight ain't like what you'd think. Winning doesn't mean you don't take your share of blows, it just means you're the guy who's still standing.
"Let's get the fuck out," I yelled when we had a chance to escape. We could of easily finished all those assholes off, but two of the four big, professional bouncers were making their way towards us and those guys love calling the cops after one of them pins you and the other busts up your face. Not that I would know.
We all ran out, quickly, through a back door. I was real surprised an alarm didn't go off, but whatever, not like I'm about to complain about that.
When we were outside, away from the piped in techno bullshit "music" and the crowds of anorexics and roid-ragers sweating vodka, we looked at each other and laughed.
It was weird, the three of us bursting into laughter over nothing. I guess the situation was funny enough we couldn't really do anything else.
"You know Fuu, you took care of yourself pretty well back there," Jon said.
I shrugged, agreeing. She did have her moves. She was a spunky little thing, kicking shins and punching noses. I guess she did know how to take care of herself.
We walked all the way back to our flophouse. It was a long, long walk but we didn't mind. What a beautiful fucking night.