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"So this is what you've been doing Friday nights?!" the tiger yelled over the thrumming bass echoing out of the building and down the block.

"Yeah - it's the best club in town! I can't beleive you've never come out before." The zebra snorted at his own joke, while the tiger rolled his eyes heavenward, praying for a miracle or maybe an earthquake. Anything to keep from going inside.

"Jer, I know you're really big into the club scene, but you know it just ain't my thing. I haven't even had a date in a couple years, and you think dragging me to a club with a bunch of people half my age is gonna help? You watch, I'll go in and dance for about twenty minutes, and spend the rest of the time wheezing at the bar, sipping drinks and telling cute young things that I'm not a millionaire." He shook his head and looked down at his clothes for a minute. All Jerry's idea, he assured himself, since no self-respecting professional would be wandering around with khaki green zip-off nylon shorts with bright orange accents and a dusty sage shirt with AF in purple.

"Awww, comeon, Khad, you're not THAT old! I mean, hell, they check IDs at the door. So at worst your'e 8 years older, and a lot more up on shit than most of 'em. If we weren't such good friends, I'd do ya in a heartbeat," Jerry chuckled, and playpunched his shoulder.

Khadjair shook his head and chuckled, his unkempt mane swaying back and forth. Jerry was never in need of a partner under any circumstance. Mid-20s, tight body, lithe and supple, kinda short, wearing these cute little john lennon glasses that made him look as innocent as he wasn't, he was the sort of person who attracted attention whenever he wanted. And in the outfit he wore tonight, baggy pocketed shorts with a midriff mesh t-shit and a necklace of glow-in-the dark rainbow beads, he was sure to attract more attention than even he could soak up. No, Khadjair thought to himself, I'm gonna get really close to the bartender.

Using the slow approach to the door guards as an excuse, Khadjair pulled his wallet out of his pocket, quietly thumbing through his bills. $300 for the night and anything else he wanted to do all weekend. It was supposed to be gym money, but when he saw how many people at the gym were obviously the sorts who had a cot in the back, he figured it'd be better to go have fun and get totally plastered. This should just about do it. After all, he could only watch Jerry flirt with anyone in the room who had a pulse for so long before drunkenness was the only alternative to crying in the bathroom. Why did he even say yes to this?

Oh, that's right, because no one ever says no to Jer. No one at all. And that's why tonight's gonna be a total disaster, yepyep. About $30 in alcohol, enough to put a decent sway in the walk and a nice disfocused stare on his face, and he'd have the perfect excuse to bail on Jer and take a cab home, yet not be hung over in the morning.

Without realizing it, the front of the line snuck up on the pair, a big burly bull in a leather jacket demanding to see ID, like Cerberus at the gates of Hades. Khad didn't even take notice, treating him like anyone else here, just part of the scenery. He held out his paw, face up, for a stamp, then was more or less pushed through the entryway.

The building itself was huge, and to think this was just the entryway. Once an old furniture factory, it had been converted into a huge dance club, restaurant and bar. The entryway space was occupied with a small bar, staffed intermittently, and stools for people waiting for friends to arrive. A pair of staircases wound up from here, each with a guard/maitre de checking the reservation list. A pair of lions scaled the stairs after having been cleared, making their way up for overpriced entrees and a seat overlooking one of the dance floors. There were signs at either side, indicating the two dance floors as merely "Room 1" and "Room 2" with a small sign underneath the latter with a faux-handscrawled "Basement" underneath, all the letters glowing under the ever-present blacklight.

Blacklight which, Khad noted dryly to hismelf, drew a ton of attention to Jer. His white and black stripes together with the mesh top made him look almost totally naked save for a small band across his hips. While it was fairly dark, it was obvious to Khadjair that Jer was getting stares. Not even on the floor and already making a scene. This promised to be a long night.

Then with a tug, Jer began to make his way toward "Room 2", dragging the reluctant tiger behind him. Khadjair shook his head in amazement. Somehow Jer could dress up like that and positively _prance_ his way around without seeming too gay. One of the perks of being a stallion, Khad guessed.

The hall was lit in long strings of neon and flourescent lights, the blacklight everpresent and hurting Khad's eyes a bit, making it very clear where Jerry was even without his vice-like grip on the tiger's arm. People walked down the hall in both directions, some dancing, hopping, swaying, sashaying or whatever else struck their fancy in time to the music in the places where one room was dominant enough to be clear over the other. There was some high-energy electronic playing with a slightly dark edge to it, bringing a smile to Khad's face. Maybe the night wouldn't be a total loss after all.

Khadjair suddenly felt like he'd walked in on the set of a movie, all his concerns flooding back in a torrent. The hallway itself opened onto a large plexiglass-walled landing, providing a viewing space out onto the floor. Two huge staircases wound down onto the main dance floor, while a DJ sat bathed in strobing, multicolored lights up on a small stage, a crowd of dedicated dancers vying for attention or merely their chance to worship the god of the groove, or something like that. The landing itself turned into a wide deck, maybe 10-15 ft. wide, that ringed the entire area, with small turrets done up like dance cages projecting out over the dance floor below. Under the deck on either side were two very busy bars, the bartenders, shirtless and all quite young and handsome, serving orders at a frantic pace. Khadjair's tail slumped as he realized there were no stools at all, and no prayer of remaining in the vicinity of the bar. He tugged back on Jer's grip on his arm, bringing the zebra up short.

"Whaddya want?" Jer just about yelled over the music, affecting a deep Brooklyn drawn he claimed to have picked up as a kid, though Khadjair knew it was an affectation.

"I'm outclassed. I can't believe I let you talk me into this!" Even over the loud music, his frustration was clear.

"Awww, come on, Khad, give it a shot. Tell ya what, your first Long Island's on me, 'kay?"

Khadjair shook his head. "Jer, you don't get it. I just watched the entire cast and extras of 90210, Dawson's Creek, Buffy, and Smallville wander by! Yeah, sure, the music's great, but there's not even a place for the losers like me to sit down and just enjoy it. I don't have your energy, I don't have your looks, and damnitall, I don't even have a chance of getting a second glance. You go down and have fun. I'll buy my own drink. And.. " he held up a finger to cut off Jerry's impending protest, "I'll still try my best to have fun. I promised, and after this week, I sure as hell need it."

Jerry neigh-laughed loudly, throwing his head back. "You're too damned hard on yourself, Khad. Have some fun, forget that you're around a bunch o' wankers who begged daddy for a personal trainer when they were 12 and plastic surgery at 15 who couldn't have a deep conversation with a potted plant, dance a bit, and just try to forget about all that crap you carry around in your head. And don't lie. You've told me you like to dance, but you're just embarassed. So go, have a drink, and use the excuse. You were gonna get just drunk enough to lie and tell me you hadta go home and sleep it off."

Khadjair smiled sheepishly. "You got me there, Jer. But don't worry about me. I'll take a cab home when I'm ready to go, but I promise it won't be for a couplea hours. You have fun, and don't even think about nursemaiding me. Who knows, I might get lucky." He snorted, shaking his head with a wry grin. "And Jesus has had a second coming, right here, in the men's room. Miracles do happen." He grinned lamely, leaving Jerry to just shake his head.

"You'll never get over it, will you?" He grabbed Khadjair by the shoulders suddenly, pulling him forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek, the tiger just standing there dumbly. "Now, you promised you'd have fun. So go, have some fun!"

Then he was swallowed into the hungry, steaming jaws of the crowd, consumed save for an occasional flash of white and black glowing out on the floor. Khadjair chuckled, turning and heading down the stairs to the less crowded of the two bars. Hyperconscious of the young, handsome, scantily-clad bodies writhing around him and gyrating to the music, he knew it was gonna take at least one Long Island before he was comfortable enough to chance heading out on the floor solo.

* * * * * * * * * *

Khadjair looked down at his watch. 11:30. The floor was, if anything, even more active, and the paper cup form his third Long Island was hanging empty in his fingers. He'd been jostled, sneered at, bumped into, nearly trampled, until finally he retreated against one of the posts that supported the deck above. The DJ had changed, and so had the music, away from the darker trance he liked and had even dared dancing to for a while to a more euro-pop "queer anthem" sound. All in all, it was looking like once that two hours was up, he was dashing for the door and out for a cab.

He glanced at the stairs up to the landing, where there were bodies pressed against the glass, some of them couples making out lewdly to the music. The stairways themmselves were crowded, with dancers, gawkers, comers and goers all thronged in a slow-motion dance of confusion and randomness. Like a river of fleshy pudding it flowed slowly and lumpily, some people trying to force their way in either direction only to be stopped by the press of flesh. As much as he loathed the idea, Khadjair resigned himself to being stuck here for a few more hours yet.

He saw the second staircase that continued down to the "Basement," with remarkably little traffic. He considered the press of bodies up here, the cloying scent of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes of twenty thousand different blends assailing his nose, and his general dismissal by everyone around, then shrugged. It can't be any worse down there.

The stairs themselves were a different style, and boded well for a transition. Where the upstairs was all metal and plastic and neon, this was more concrete, steel and a bit of fake plant work to give it a bit of urban decay. The music down here seemed more jungle, drum-n-bass, and hardcore with some darker elements. Things were looking up the further he descended.

A DJ list was scrawled on the wall in flourescent chalk, listing a number of people Khadjair recognized from listening to local radio and following some of the dance lists. His ears perked up, making the rings jingle a little as he eyed the large doors, feeling the deep, rapidfire beat from behind them. He looked at his outfit, a desperate attempt to make him fit in with the crowd upstairs, then shrugged. What the hell, he thought, the music's bound to be good.

As he pushed open the door, a wall of sound washed over him, carried on a damp, cool mist that permeated the room. Done up in a sort of post-modern holocaust style, with fake chunks of concrete, dim flickering lighting, laserplay, fake plants, and heavy mists, it fit his darker tastes well. The people down here were more into the dancing, a swaying rhythmic motion riding over the rapid beat, or the jerky seizure-like motions favored by those who were really into both hardcore and stimulants. There was even a small bar, and a couple of the fake rocks arranged almost like stools. Khadjair had found his oasis.

He finally spotted the DJ as he rounded an outcropping, recognizing him from upstairs before. He had darkened the mix a fair bit, keeping it uptempo and melding in tribal elements, a perfect mix for Khadjair's mood. He didn't know when he'd started dancing, but it just felt good to let go, and let the music carry him along for a while.

Finally his body screamed that it was time to stop so he limped over to the bar for a drink of something non-alcoholic. His fur was drenched but he wore a huge grin across his face, tailtip twitching in counterpoint to the beat, body still swaying and his step measured to the rhythm surrounding him. He grinned, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, noticing the time. He'd been dancing for almost two hours without even realizing it. It felt good to just let go for a while.

He took a deep swig of the juice he'd ordered, flumping back onto a rock, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow. He'd take his shirt off like so many others down here had done, but he was too conscious of his own soft midriff, even in a state of physical exhaustion like he held now. He leaned down over his knees, coughing heavily, his eyes closing from the effort.

As he opened them, he was confronted by a pair of black leather combat boots on a pair of positivly huge paws. As his gaze rose, the boots yielded to massive calves and bright white fur. He blinked and sat up suddenly, startled by this massive mountain of polar bear, obviously a weightlifter. He couldn't be a bodybuilder, since, while massive, they tended more towards tone and definition rather than the raw mass of this bear. A pair of black denim shorts clung to his hips, while his blood red tanktop was tucked into the back waistband like a flag. The bear's chest was broad and massive with a bit of the characteristic paunch common to most of his breed, swelling slowly with each breath. He gave a friendly smile, his eyes fixing the tiger's own.

"Saw ya dancing out there, kid. Couldn't help but see you really got into the music. Kinda a shame you decided to stop." He grinned and folded his arms over his chest, his mere physical presence intimidating, even to Khadjair, who wasn't exactly small himself.

"Couldn't go on anymore. Out of shape, too old for this shit. But it was sure fun." he chuckled and scooted aside on his rock, offering the bear a seat.

"Nah, I don't need to sit down. You don't look all that old, must be what, 24, 25?" The bear grinned, putting Khadjair at ease.

"Nah, now I know you're lying," he said, returning the grin, making it clear he was only joking. "29. Almost 30, really. Spent too many of the last 10 years on my ass, and it shows. Now I'm just gettin' old. Oh, my name's Khadjair, but everyone calls me Khad. Pleasure to meetcha," he said lamely, offering his paw.

The bear took it in his own, dwarfing it with his powerful grip. "Nah, you're never too old, kid. And the other part of what you're thinking, about how you'd get laughed outta most gyms. Lemme tell ya, it's not as bad as you think. And neither are you. Sure you could use a bit of a workout, but if you can dance like that there's hope for you yet." he grinned, finally releasing the tiger's paw. "Name's Josh. Pleasure's mine."

Khad chuckled softly, then blushed bright in his ears. It was a bad habit he had, whenever he ran out of things to say. He had started purring a little under his breath, which only got louder when Josh rached a massive paw over to rub his headfur like a housepet, scritching him between the ears. Being feline, his fur damp and a little itchy from dancing, he soaked up the attention, leaning into it, purring loudly and closing his eyes.

"There, it's okay, you don't have to be embarassed. In fact, I think you've got a lot of potential, if you just had the right motivation." He smiled down at the feline, who was drinking up the attention. "Damn, kid, you'd think I had my hand in your shorts the way you're drinkin' this up."

Khadjair jumped suddenly. returning to some sense of decorum, looking even more sheepish if at all possible. "I.. I've had a lot to drink tonight. I'm sorry," he stammered, wanting to kick himself hard for melting at the first touch. Had it really been two years?

"Nothin' ta be sorry for, kid. I've seen a couple like you before, no self-esteem, so embarassed by who and what they are that they never get on to bein' what they can be. I'm not gonna take you for some kinda slut just 'cause you like your ears scritched. Hell, run those nails of yours down my back a few times and I'm a puddle on the floor." He scruffled Khadjair's ears again, firmly with some soft rubbing from his blunt claws, bringing the purring up again.

His paw slowly worked down the side of the tiger's cheek and under his chin, cupping it gently, his other paw fishing out a card. He knelt down until he was eye to eye witht he seated tiger, taking a paw in his free one, pushing the card into it.

"Now, I know what you think, and I'd be givin' ya somethin' other'n a business card if that was all I wanted, if ya know what I mean. It wouldda been easy ta just suggest goin' off to the john, and you can't say no, I can see it in yer eyes. It's why I'm not, kid. You look like the white collar type, so you won't be doin' nothin' tomorrow or Sunday. So why dontcha come by the shop and we'll talk some more, 'kay?" He smiled into the tiger's eyes, seeing the fear and awe in them.

He stood up slowly, scruffling the tiger's head with his paw, smiling as he saw the paw with the card dart into his pocket. "I'd loveta stay, but I gotta client comin' in at 8 tomorrow mornin', and I gotta get my sleep. I'll seeya sometime tomorrow, prolly after noon, I'm guessin'. Take a hot shower when you get home, and drink lots of water. Don't wanna be sore or hung over, right?"

"Nah, I guess not. It's been great talkin' to ya, Josh. Seeya.. .tomorrow..." Khadjair's words trailed off as he looked up at the bear, who gave him a wink and turned to walk out. He just sat there and stared for a while at the closed door until he came to his senses.

A glance at his watch showed it was almost 3 am. He was sober, exhausted, invigorated, and confused, just the perfect mix to make him forget about the week. But Josh was right, he should get home and get some rest. He pulled the card from his pocket, looking it over.

"'Bodies by Josh', hmmm? Well, we'll see how I'm feeling tomorrow. I gotta say, though, that was the weirdest pickup I've ever heard." He clutched the card and stood, pausing while his head cleared, then headed for the door.

The stairs off the Room 2 floor had cleared some, but it was still slow going. A sudden tug on his tail and a wolf-whistle at close range brought him up short. He turned, finding himself looking down into Jerry's broad grin.

"Hey, Khad! I didn't think you'd still be here. Have a good time?" He leaned against a chocolate otter wearing a pair of short nylon shorts and not much else, two gold rings peeking from his chestfur. Obviously the second act of tonight's entertainment.

"Yeah, went down to the basement, got lost in the groove for a bit, met some guy down there and talked for a bit. But now I'm just dog tired. I need ta get home and get to sleep. And I'm sure you do, too," he said with a slight glance over at the otter.

"Oh, how rude of me to forget. Khad, this is Brian, a guy I've talked to here before a couple of times. We're gonna head out, get some snacks, maybe a late movie. You wanna come along?" The otter's sour look told volumes about how well that idea was received.

"Nah, you run along and have a good time. I've gotta go find where I parked the pumpkin. It's after midnight and all. I might be out tomorrow, dunno yet, but if I am, I'll see ya at the office." He wrapped his arms around Jer and hugged him tight, the otter stepping back out of the way, like he felt fat was contagious.

Jerry felt the card in Khadjair's paw and grinned knowingly. "Ah, good for you, man. Well, we're gonna head out. I'll see ya on Monday!." He wrapped a paw around Brian's shoulders, and the two of them trotted giggling up the stairs.

Khadjair's mood soured a little as he stuffed the card back in his pocket, tromping up and out into the night air of the city. After he was clear of the doorway, ignoring the cold looks from the bouncers, he took a deep breath and enjoying the coolness against his fur, glad to be free of the meat market. He wasn't sure if he'd be coming back, but if he was it'd be right to the Basement. Nothing else there interested him, and most of it wasn't interested in him. He looked up at the moon, deciding he'd walk home. It was a good mile or two, but the streets were well-lit and he wanted time to think.