Chapter Text
The thump of the bass reverberated through my body as I approached the bar, a steady rhythm that shook loose some of the tension that had been building throughout the week. I didn’t enjoy the press of bodies crowding in, especially in the bump and grind fashion that was so popular on the dancefloor behind me, but I could appreciate the blanket of noise over my swirling thoughts, and the thrum of music vibrating through my chest on a good day like today.
I’d barely hesitated a second when Lester rapped on my office door to let me know he and the guys were heading to the club tonight if I wanted to join them. The club wasn’t generally my natural environment like it seemed to be for some of the others, but a night out with friends sounded appealing.
I was almost back to the table with the next round of drinks for everyone when the light brush of a hand on my arm made my fist clench and dragged my attention down - down, down, down, why was everyone so short? - to a scantily clad blonde with smudged eye makeup and what looked like tear tracks running down her cheeks, a rum and coke in one hand.
“Can I help you?” I adjusted my hold on the tray of drinks in case I needed to take action, subtly shrugging off their hand in the same movement.
She smiled and I didn’t know what to think of the juxtaposition of the expression against her dishevelled appearance. “I sure hope so, Big Guy.” Her voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the music, a slight rasp to it that made me think of Lindsay Lohan. “You look strong enough to pound a person brainless.” She still had a smile curving her lips as her tongue slid out to wrap around her straw, but I was suddenly on high alert, glancing around the crowded room, searching for threats.
“Are you in danger?”
She released the straw, leaning in close and my whole body tensed. Her hand curled around as much of my bicep as it could again, squeezing insistently. I cut my gaze from the crowd back to her face. Her eyes were shining in the flashing lights, lips parted as a strained noise escaped her throat. “Choke me.”
My own eyes widened. “Choked you?” I questioned, setting the drinks down on the nearest surface. “Who choked you? Where are they now? Have you notified security?”
Before she could answer, though, another woman was there, wrapping her arms around the blonde and gently extracting the drink from her hand. “Okay, Jen,” she said, her tone soothing and patient. “I think it’s time to get you home.”
The blonde - Jen - tried ineffectively to brush the other woman off. “Nooo,” she protested. “Big Guy’s gonna help me!”
“Ma’am, I believe your friend has been assaulted,” I said urgently. “Have you noticed anyone this evening who-”
“Dude,” Lester’s amused voice cut me off, alerting me to his presence by my side. He took a moment to reassure the woman assisting Jen and send them on their way before turning to face me, fighting a smile. “She was flirting .” He let out a short huff of laughter but managed to regain an almost neutral expression a moment later. “She wasn’t telling you someone choked her, she was asking you to choke her.”
My eyes widened as I replayed the interaction in my head, belatedly recognising the hallmarks of a woman attempting to attract a man. Heat flamed my cheeks that I hoped was mostly hidden by my dark complexion and I bit out a curse, glancing after the women’s retreating backs and shaking my head. I turned on my heel, took one look at the amused expressions on the guys gathered around our table and fought the urge to just leave.
I was usually better at recognising when someone was flirting and redirecting their attention away from me. It just figures that I’d fail most spectacularly in front of my friends. At least the last time they’d witnessed me missing the signs it had been an invitation and I’d simply declined. This was a bit more embarrassing. How did I miss the tongue thing?
I let out a controlled breath, cast a final glance over my shoulder to where the woman was leading Jen toward the exit and let my shoulders drop. Might as well get the roasting over with now rather than waiting until we were all back at work on Monday.
“I can’t believe you weren’t all over that!” Vince exclaimed as I set the tray of drinks down in front of him. “A hot chick like her asking me to choke her? I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” The other guys seemed to agree with Vince’s sentiments as their vocal appreciations for the female form overlapped with each other. It all started to blend into the cacophony of the club as it seemed to press in a little more insistently than before, an uncomfortable pressure in my gut and eardrums.
Sucking in another deep breath, I settled on the stool beside Vince and surveyed the crowd around me once more. The club was filled with scantily clad women, just like the one who’d approached me; all long, shapely legs, bulging breasts and conventionally attractive faces. But I felt nothing for them. Nothing like what the other guys were describing. The show of flesh and the swinging of hips did nothing to excite me.
I would have wondered if I was gay if it weren’t for the fact that I felt the same lack of excitement when I viewed the male form. I felt certain that if I was going to be turned on by a male body, it would have happened by now with how often the guys walked around in nothing but basketball shorts in the gym and the fourth floor.
But the lack of response to women was something that had troubled me for a while. Even when I was dating Lula and having sex with her multiple times a week, I didn’t feel like I was attracted to her. I was just scratching an itch. Until the cat dander started scratching her sinuses, that is. In a way it was a relief to be free of the relationship, but I’d spent far too many hours in the years since agonising over the implications for how I felt and didn’t feel.
Recently, though, I’ve started to understand myself better. I found the right words to describe my experience hidden away in a blog post and everything has been dropping into place piece by piece the more I read about it. Like a jigsaw that’s been scattered across the room finally being brought together on one table.
It did make moments like these, where I absolutely understood why I’d failed to see the flirting that was literally right under my nose in plain view of my friends, all the more uncomfortable, though. Because they didn’t know. They just thought I was hilariously oblivious.
I took a swig of my beer and set it down, but my fist remained clamped firmly around it, like a lifeline as I stared out at the sea of writhing bodies. Slowly, the guys trickled away from the table, their attention caught on their own prizes, and I was left with just Bobby, his assessing gaze watching me carefully over the rim off his glass.
“You okay?” he asked in that quasi casual tone he’d perfected over the years.
“Fine.” Another swig. “Just more tired than I thought, I guess.”
He nodded, shifting on his stool to lean an elbow on the table, his gaze drifting to the corner of the dancefloor where Lester was playing tonsil hockey with a voluptuous redhead. “For what it’s worth, I can see how the situation could be misconstrued. It’s rare for a person to be so bold and ask a stranger to choke her. And with the noise level in here-” He twirled his hand through the air to encompass the club in its entirety, letting the rest of his sentence die away.
His lips thinned, tension pulling his muscles tight and I followed the direction he was staring to find Lester’s hand not so subtly inching up the redhead’s thigh, disappearing under her skirt. Guess I wasn’t the only one grappling with feelings in one form or another.
I drained the last of my drink and released the bottle to the table, standing and stretching out a kink in my neck. “Thanks Bobby.” I tapped the table a couple of times. “I think I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you tomorrow for the gallery job.”
He spared the briefest second to meet my gaze, sending me on my way with a slight lift of the chin before he was laser focused on Lester once more. I’d be surprised if Lester didn’t turn up to the briefing tomorrow with two bald patches on the back of his head. At least my own feelings and revelations only really affected me.