The Curious Tale of Rurik 5

Rurik’s sensitive ears throbbed in tune to the blare of the rave overhead, the autonomous heartbeat of the club bleeding through the filter of his cigarettes and sending the ashes wrapped up around the remnants of his life trickling down the frayed edges of the cigarette into the back of his throat. There was a fleeting mixture of shame and amusement that stirred in him at the prodding of the women to be the prerequisite ‘party animal’ of their little entourage, but once they’d scattered to their own fringes of the nightclub’s aural orgy he found himself quite comfortably nestled in the tattered pile of mothballs near the bar, casting a cursory glance around the perimeter of his periphery before lighting up another smoke.

The barkeep, a vampire stranded somewhere between the effeminate swagger of his hips that swayed and sashayed as he strolled towards the tapir and the arrogant machismo that took but a moment’s drag to size up and dismiss Rurik with a final flick of the wrist, plunking down a glass of hard cider before meandering towards the newest couple perched up and snuggling together at the far end of the bar. Just as Rurik reached for the cider a squeaky, faintly familiar voice pierced through the ‘unce’ of the club, shouting, “RURY!”

The two weres, linked at the hands as well as the hips, gaily sauntered over towards Rurik, who felt a playful smile spreading itself unwillingly across his face at the sight of the couple. “Hey, Jer,” he said, waving at the sapphired turtle and his delicate boy toy as he hauled himself off his seat and over towards the duo. The men shook paws with a perfunctory bow, and both chuckled at the sight of the smaller Ludwig pulling himself closer to his boyfriend. “Haven’t seen you guys in a while, but I take it you’re still bed buddies?”

Ludwig blushed furiously, releasing himself from the self-declared center of gravity that was Jeremy long enough to give Rurik a proper scolding. “R-rury! There’s no need to be so vulgar about it!” The tapir just smiled, eliciting a defeated sigh from the unusual morph before he added, “B-but yeah, we’re always gonna be together!” He snuggled back in closer to Jeremy, who wrapped his free arm around the blushing bundle. “But I’m surprised, Rury… you’ve never been the clubbing type… why-“

“A fiver says Morgan dragged him over here,” Jeremy interjected with a nonchalant wave of his paw. An embarrassed chuckle escaped Rurik’s lips, confirming for the both of them that Rurik still hadn’t quite worked out the nuances that separated the boyfriend from the pet. “Ah, well. I’m sure the both of you’ll come around. Love blooms eternal! Or something like that.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea! Let’s set up a slow dance for them!” Ludwig exclaimed, flip-flopping from Jeremy’s side to front-and-center. Jeremy chuckled, ruffling his boyfriend’s air affably.

“You just want an excuse to wiggle up close, don’t you?” Embarrassed hurt bloomed on Ludwig’s face, and with another soft chuckle Jeremy nodded. “Fair enough, two stones with one bird, I suppose. Or something like that.” And with that the duo sauntered off again, this time towards the club’s DJ, leaving Rurik alone for another brief moment with his cider and his cigarette.

“I’ll take a glass of chocolate milk, and put that and the tapir’s cider on my tab,” Kimberly suddenly said from beside Rurik, completely catching said tapir by surprise. “Don’t worry, Daddy, it’s on me tonight,” she said with a devilish grin. Rurik stared dumbly at her.

“How did you…?” It didn’t take long for him to notice a fairly sizeable wad of cash stuffed into the pocket of her corduroys, one that put the bulk of his paychecks to shame with ease. Slowly nursing the cider, he asked bluntly, “Cards again?”

Kimberly shrugged, the pride of her victory barely evident in the serpent’s smile she was wearing as the glass of milk was delicately delivered to the little girl. “I can’t help it if a bunch of drunken devils can’t keep a straight poker face. They should’ve been more mature about this.” She pounded her fist on the bar afterwards and shouted, “HEY BARKEEP! WHOSE SOUL DO I HAVE TO EXCORCISE TO GET A BENDY STRAW ‘ROUND HERE?!”

It was the strangest thing, Rurik mused to himself, to remember Kimberly in the typical childhood hues of innocence and naivety, though she did a serviceable job managing her fondness for sweets and sugar whenever it suited the occasion. But her childhood, already marred and warped by the oft-painful throes of divorce that still clawed at her father’s heart on those restless nights where Morgan’s childish curiosity outweighed the loneliness that otherwise crept over her once the moon shone in, had only been further twisted by the revelation that for all intents and purposes the father that had lovingly cherished her from the crib to the classroom had ceased to be human. Though Rurik ached for the choice she’d made between her father and her innocence during those unforgettably casual moments when their worlds didn’t feel so secretive, he often found himself admitting that between the two of them she’d apparently adapted far better to the realities of the netherworld than he had. At the very least, she took far better advantage of the opportunities it provided, if the bills stuffed into her pockets were any indication.

Right on cue the heavy beats of the club grinded to a halt, and as Rurik spun around to spot the reason he found himself face-to-face with an uncomfortably tantalizing view of Morgan’s bare midriff, hints of red flayed out to either side of the revealing shirt. The vampire slowly, lustfully bent down towards her tapir, shamelessly flashing her chest at her blushing boyfriend before matching his gaze with a wicked smile. “A little birdy…thingy told me that there’s gonna be a slow dance coming up, Rury… and I would just love to share it with you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his chest. There was a brief moment of breathlessness as Rurik sat there, mouth agape and eyes adrift, but the feel of his mistress’s nails gently etching a heart into his back was enough to elicit a panted, “Y-yes,” from him before she effortlessly hauled him to his feet, dragging him towards the dance floor with a girlish giggle.

The music began its lethargic waltz, and as she felt Rurik wrapping his arms around her, Morgan found herself frozen at what could’ve been the first blush of a lifetime for all she cared, lost as she was within the cradled bliss of the moment. There was no want flooding her hollowed veins as she felt herself gliding aimlessly throughout the crowd, entranced within this gruff embrace; no desire imploring her to entrench herself within the tapir, for she found herself hopelessly intertwined to him. Warm enough to stave off the chill that draped over her during the loneliest cuts, but ever shying away from another flame to burn her out all over again – these were the thoughts that floated carelessly through the breadth of her soul to the tune of her curious tale of romance and Rurik. She was close enough to his heart to feel the missed beat as he realized with a terrible shudder that Kimberly had vanished from her perch.