The god damn barkeep, a raccoon with a nasty attitude accented by a taunting smile… those were the kind of teeth I liked to knock out before I take my dues from their wallet. Despite his smug attitude, I had to admit that it was a decent place that had a lot of people in here.
Hell, I would've stayed bitter if my ass hadn't been grabbed every 5 or so minutes. I could account at least half of that to the lace lingerie under my flight jacket. Sick fuck Falco has some freaky fetishes.
My sides were still sore from here he had held me when we had gotten intimate, where his feathers did very little to shield my side from this jagged fingers. It was almost like I'd been raped by Freddy Kruger and I had to pay for it for a long… long, long time.
I returned my attention to the raccoon, taking all my will not to pistol-whip the fucker. A mug was slammed down in front of me, the collision causing the contents to slosh over the sides. Rum and coke, because I have to be bland but I'm too fancy to just get a beer.
Even if I were drinking my own sweat and tears, it'd still taste better than that god-awful concoction Falco called beer. I swear that he's on drugs; no one not having a case of the munchies could down anything even relatively like that.
Hell- Wolf's cum tasted better than that.
The first drink had been overshadowed by my brooding, but the second drink was kind of good. A third and a fourth swig lead to me ordering another and fairly soon, I was more hammered than Paula Abdul had ever been.
On my 5th glass, I finally drew the line, knowing I couldn't take much more. It doesn't help that I weigh about 120 pounds and that much alcohol is much more than enough to kill my feral relatives.
Apparently the barkeep had kept count as well, coming up to me with a simple phrase, "Please tell me you don't want another one. I'm responsible for any deaths here kid and I don't need your alcohol poisoning on my consciousness."
"I…," I burped a little, bringing up a bit of the last drink back up in the moment of in…indigestion, "Don't want anymore." I wasn't stu…ttering at least.
"Do you need any help getting outside, I'd feel kinda bad if you couldn't make it or whatever," he said, offering himself as a crutch to me. I giggled a little, but shook my head.
My foot slipped from the rail of the barstool, catching alongside the middle. As I stood up, I collided with the floor. I hit with the side of my head but it hurt like fuck.
"Oh geez, lemme help you." He rushed through the small door in the counter, picking me up like I was a plush toy… like I weighed no more than 5 pounds. It wasn't like he was even vis…ibly muscular. As I was hoisted onto his back, I felt young as fuck.
As we strode out the bar doors, leaving the counter unattended except for the few waiters and waitresses, I pointed out my arwing. With a simple nod he just strode on.
The moment we were next to it, the moment I was on the ground, my lips planted onto his and gave him a sloppy kiss. I was pushed away, not to the extent where I moved, just so our lips weren't connected.
"You're drunk kid, don't do this, don't do something you'll regret-" he couldn't get much further as I kissed him again, moaning out a muddled, "Fuck…" as I slipped his shirt off.
My jacket slid off, revealing the lingerie. The pants I had been wearing slipped off almost as easily as I was exposed to the chill. My body mashed against his as the cold bit against my well being.
Kiss after kiss, slowly trailing down onto his chest leaving him in my hands. He did have muscles, pecs and abs and all, but it wasn't at all visible when he was dressed. Fuck he's hot.
Falco was the last thing on my mind.
