Baby Bat

***Content Warning***

Non-con

Coercion

Blood

Alcohol

Quincy made his way quickly to his favorite club, The Sanctuary, on a cool night in late spring as rain began to drizzle down. He hated the trek from the subway to the club, but he did not have it in his budget for both a cab and drinks. It was not a long walk, but it was in a less than reputable part of the city, he was wearing 4 inch platform boots, and now he had to worry if the rain was going to make his hair go flat. He had put enough gel and spray in it to withstand a typhoon, but still. He was new to the city and did not really have any friends. He needed to stand out, to make an impression, to be interesting enough to grab the right person's attention so every Saturday he headed to the local goth club. He made sure to do his best to stand out, not an easy feat in this scene for sure when everyone's usual attire was so over the top. Quincy adjusted his outfit as he walked, making sure everything was in place. Tonight he was wearing a black long sleeve fishnet top, leather harness, baggy black pants, platforms that made him appear 5'7, and enough silver chains to tie down a small werewolf.

"Ugh, is this too basic?" he muttered to himself as he stopped at an intersection. Of course he just missed the walk sign. Come on, come on he thought as he repeatedly pushed the little button on the pole. This area already made him feel uneasy, and he was slowly becoming more nervous when a voice behind him made him nearly jump out of his skin.

"You know those don't actually work, right? They are just there to make people feel more in control."

After recovering from the split second heart attack he experienced, Quincy turned around, muscles still tense to see a smiling stranger. Smirking might be a better word, Quincy's mind suggested almost as an afterthought. He did relax a bit when he saw how the stranger was dressed. Black dress pants, a deep red silk shirt, black vest with bits of lace, and a little black rosary necklace. The outfit, along with the white foundation, black eyeliner, and long black hair, let Quincy know they were both likely headed to the same club. Maybe this was it, his opportunity to finally make a friend after weeks of going out to this club and always coming back home alone. He tried to think of something witty to say back, but instead all he managed was a sheepish "Oh, you startled me".

Dammit, that sounded rude, he thought so he followed it up with a smile he was sure just looked awkward.

"My apologies, I have a habit of being quiet. It was not my intent to startle you."

"Oh it's ok. I-"

The stranger cut him off by pointing behind him, "Looks like your button pushing finally paid off. The light has changed."

Quincy looked and confirmed what the man had said before turning back to say thank you, but the stranger was already halfway down the block parallel to the street Quincy was heading down. He waved awkwardly as a sort of thank you, but the man was not looking. How odd, he thought. Quincy was sure from the way he was dressed, that they would both be headed to the same place. It was not everyday you randomly ran into people who dressed that way, even here in a bigger city. And how had he gotten so far in the short amount of time he had turned around? Quincy was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when he noticed that the crosswalk sign was now blinking the countdown at him. He was not about to get caught for a second time at the same light so he hurried across, already running later than he wanted.

Quincy made it to The Sanctuary five minutes later and was relieved to see there was no line. He hurried into the dark foggy club as the hypnotic rhythm of She Wants Revenge washed over him. All the anxiety from the week melted away as he finally felt at home. Despite being alone, as he had yet to gain the courage to talk to anyone here, he felt like this was the one place he belonged since moving to the city. Hell, this was the only place he ever truly felt like he belonged, even before dropping everything and moving on a whim. He knew his small hometown was not a place he could thrive. He still was not even out by the time he left. Sure people had their suspicions, and he had every slur thrown at him, but never was he brave enough to come out. But here? Here under the neon glow of the coffin that hung above the bar, he could truly be himself, and for now he was content with being a little wall flower. Baby steps he thought.

Quincy made his way to the bathroom first. He needed to make sure the rain had not messed things up too much. As usual the bathroom was packed with people, most there for the same reason as Quincy, vanity. There were a few outliers however, the couple in the corner, one buried in the other's neck as they both let out small noises of pleasure, and the thin man heading hurriedly into a stall with a small bag in hand that he was doing a poor job of concealing. Minding his own business, Quincy pushed his way slowly to the mirror where he took stock of everything. His teased white hair was still intact. As he looked in the mirror, he felt as if he was missing something and thought back to the stranger from earlier. Eye liner! He forgot to put on eyeliner! He looked over to the boy beside him who was also applying thick black lines around his eyes. Once he was finished, Quincy, in a move that was very brave for himself, asked if he could borrow some.

"Sure," the boy next to him answered nonchalantly with half open eyes as he passed the liner over before leaving the bathroom without it. Quincy stared, a little baffled, before applying the makeup and heading back out himself. The next objective was getting a drink. He always had to have at least two before working up the courage to dance. He decided to jump right into things given he arrived later in the night than he meant to. One drink, two shots, and thirty minutes later, he was joining the tangled mass of moving bodies just as VNV began to play. What a good way to start the night!

Quincy stayed on the dance floor for about an hour before the alcohol from earlier suddenly hit his bladder. What an inconvenience he thought to himself as he tried to find an opening in the crowd to push his way through. As he was about halfway through the wall of people, the same foreboding feeling from earlier when he was on the street hit him again. Thinking it was just his anxiety, he ignored it and continued to move towards the bathroom. Just as before, the bathroom was packed. With his head down, he quickly opted for one of the stalls, eyeing the men using the urinal with jealousy. At least I don't have to wear that damn binder anymore, he thought, trying to find the silver lining.

Upon exiting the bathroom, Quincy looked across the room and saw the long haired stranger from earlier at the crosswalk. So he was heading here! He was standing just within the shadows appearing to scan the crowd. The man's eyes met his and he stopped searching. Quincy perked up. Maybe this is finally my chance to make a friend, he wondered for the second time that night, or maybe something else. He sheepishly lifted his hand to wave just as a girl in the crowd drunkenly bumped into him, spilling some of her drink onto his chest. He jumped, startled mostly by how cold it was. By the time he recovered and looked up, the man was gone. He scanned the crowd, but it was no use. The club was dimly lit, and there were so many people, all of which dressed in equally dark clothes.

Sighing Quincy headed back to the bar. Might as well get another drink while he was away from the dance floor. Maybe if he had another, he would actually work up the courage to talk to someone. He was still deciding if he should get his usual or try something different by the time he got to the bar.

"What are you getting," came a slightly familiar voice behind him. For some reason the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he blurted out "Jack and Coke" without thinking. He turned around to once again see the stranger from before and instantly felt his face go red. Why was he suddenly embarrassed by his boring drink order?

"Two Jack and Cokes please. My tab, Kat. Actually make one of those diet. You know how sugar gets me."

"Oh you don't-"

"I know," the man cut off. "I'm Charlie. Glad you made it through that pesky crosswalk."

Words seem to roll off Charlie like butter, and Quincy quickly searched his brain for something smooth or witty to say. All he could manage was an awkward, "do those buttons really not work?"

Charlie looked down at Quincy and chuckled. Quincy was suddenly aware of how this man seemed to loomed over him. He was probably only a few inches taller than Quincy while he was wearing his platforms, but he seemed to take up so much more space. Before Quincy could have his answer, the bartender interrupted with their drinks. Quincy grabbed his quickly, eager to have something to distract him from the crippling social anxiety he had just been thrown into.

"Do you dance?" Quincy croaked out.

"I do. Care to join me?" Charlie answered with a half smirk.

Quincy nodded and took a large gulp of his drink before they both headed to the dance floor. His heart was nearly in his throat as Charlie took his wrist.

"Don't want to lose you in this crowd, now do we?" Charlie said smoothly looking behind him with yet another smirk, once again the words rolling off his tongue like water off of goose down. He took Quincy deep into the mass of people on the dancefloor before they themselves began dancing. He was in absolute heaven. He tried not to stare so much as they moved with the crowd and the beat, but the man before him was like a work of art. The angles of his face made him look as if he was cut from pure marble. Speaking of marble, now that he was really looking, he realized Charlie was not wearing white foundation like was so common in the scene. His hands were the same shade as his face. That was just his natural complexion. Quincy glanced away and back up to see Charlie looking down at him intently, almost as if he was contemplating something.

Does he want to kiss me? Quincy thought as the heart that was now in his throat tried to make a swift exit out of his mouth. Suddenly Charlie threw back the rest of his drink and grabbed Quincy's hip to spin him around. With both hands now on Quincy's hips, he pulled the smaller boy in, and they went back to dancing. Quincy, finally feeling the social lubricant kicking in, decided to go with it. He lifted his arms and leaned back into Charlie. He was surprised by just how muscular this new strange man was. His chest and upper abs felt hard as stone and despite the dancing and heat of the club, Charlie was rather cool. He felt Charlie's hands slowly move up his body and lightly grip him just above his waist. Charlie buried his face in Quincy's neck and took a deep breath. He seemed to moan slightly as he exhaled and Quincy leaned even more into him. The next three songs were spent much like this until Kat, the bartender from before, came up and tapped Charlie on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. She eyed Quincy quizzically before Charlie shooed her off.

"I've got something to take care of. See you around, kid."

Before Quincy could protest, the dark haired man had disappeared into the crowd. Alone in the crowd once again, he was now aware of three things. One, he never got a chance to tell Charlie his name, two, the strange sense of dread he had been experiencing was now gone, how he hated his social anxiety, and three, he really needed to piss again. With a sigh and sense of defeat, he headed back to the bathroom.

Once again, the bathroom was filled with a myriad of characters, some of which were using the bathroom not for its intended purposes. The couple from before that had taken up residence in the corner were finally gone, only to be replaced by another, still doing the same activity as the one prior. It seemed as if that corner was the designated make out corner. But why did they always seem to be buried in someone's neck instead of actually making out? Never mind that, Quincy needed to piss. He quickly slipped into a stall, stumbling slightly, locked the door and pulled his pants down.

"God fucking dammit" he whispered to himself as he realized the mess he had made in his little rainbow boxers, the only color he dared wearing tonight. He tried cleaning up a bit with toilet paper, but they were already fully soaked through. It had been over a year since he last had sex and it was showing. He pulled his pants up flustered. The alcohol was finally catching up and he was annoyed.

"Who does he think he is calling me a kid? Mother fucker probably is probably the same age as me." Quincy continued to mumble to himself as he washed his hands and left the bathroom. Feeling slightly depressed at being alone again, he decided he needed another drink. The rest of the night went by in a blur as he continued to drink, dance, and drink some more. Every now and then that same anxious feeling from before would come back, and Quincy would respond by ordering another drink. It was nearly three in the morning when the crowd was finally dying down and Quincy decided to head home for the night. This is when he realized he had made a mistake. He had gotten way more drunk than he had intended and had somehow lost his wallet.

Quincy searched frantically around the club, but was unable to find his wallet. He asked the bartenders if anyone had turned one in, but it was fruitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How the hell am I going to make it home. He left the club in his drunken panic, brain too inebriated to think rationally as he ducked into an alley to try to quell the ever growing panic attack he was experiencing. In the dim light and in his drunken state, he did not see the broken sidewalk, but his foot surely found it, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Quincy's nose made contact first before the rest of his body came crashing down. He grabbed his face and rolled over. He felt lightheaded as he felt something wet on his hands, and that same feeling from earlier came back. He tried sitting up but felt his whole body grow heavy. The last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the strange man he met at the cross walk looking down at him.

"Oh Quincy," Charlie said with that same smirk on his face.