The New Guy (Icarus)

It was the end of the week, and the sun had finally set. Capital Crocus descended into darkness, illuminated only by the bright lights of the buildings littering the city. Although the day had ended, the city's nightlife was just beginning, and on a night as early as this, men, women, and others were retiring after a week of hard work, looking to blow off steam. Fortunately for them, one of the best places to get a drink and have some fun was none other than Boomslang. It was run by a quiet and aloof man named Ahote, who took on a couple of different appearances, but this time being in a familiar long, silver-haired, pale-skinned form.

The end of the week was busy, and nothing Ahote and his liches could not handle. However, tonight was a tad busier than he would have liked, and now that he had hired some employees, it was a good time to put them to use. The nightclub was rumbling with groovy music, a DJ filling the place with sound and rhythm. Every seat was full and every stripper and dancer was working as if their bills were due at midnight. He could have summoned some of his liches to assist him tonight, but what else were employees good for if not to work?

Icarus—a lackadaisical, 'go with the flow' bartender in his early twenties was the newest addition to his staff team, and the man he had asked to come in tonight. It would be just him and Ahote operating the place tonight, and the silver-haired man was eager to see how he would perform.

---

Ah, yes. There he was, walking into the club with that comfortable stride, appearing in a traditional bartender's attire. And there was that smile again—the one that made Ahote coin him as the easygoing type. It was easy to tell that Icarus was going to help advertise the place, and it was hard to disagree with that after looking at his face. Whether it was the outfit and its uncanny way of making anyone who wore it look especially well-dressed, dapper, or otherwise attractive that gave off that impression or his face and demeanor that sealed the deal, Ahote didn't know and wouldn't try to better understand. He only acknowledged it.


Ahote was working behind the bar, mixing drinks, and carefully placing them in front of his customers when Icarus came in and made himself known. When he did, Ahote didn't break from his pace to acknowledge him, only glancing up at him and then back down to his craft.

"Just us. The others won't be joining us tonight. I know that this is technically your first shift," he started, finishing his last drink before meandering his way around the counter, wiping his hands on a rag and handing it to Icarus with that hard expression of his, "but try not to choke underneath the pressure. It isn't healthy." Ahote finished, looking up at him. He was a little shorter than his colleague, and that was usually the case nowadays, being five foot ten. In any case, whether that was meant to be an attempt at a jest or not would remain a mystery, because as soon as he said it, he left to fill in the other positions and leaving Icarus to his own devices.

Ahote would be both the waiter and the server, and entertainment was already on the clock. The instant he stepped away from the bar, he was called from table to table, and suddenly his entire demeanor had changed. That hard, aloof expression of his softened into simpers and smile, and he pushed his hair back so more of his pale and incredibly pretty face could be on display. He still wasn't much of a social butterfly, but it was incredible what a smile could do for a business.

So, Icarus would be by his lonesome this time, left in the company of drunk men and women of varying ages or ones about to fall victim to that same intoxication. Two young women in their early-twenties eyed him lecherously, as if "checking him out," so to speak. Their complexions were caked with makeup and cosmetics, and their outfits were nothing short of provocative. They were a kind of woman Ahote was familiar with serving every week.

"Hey there, cutie pie. I haven't seen you here very often. New employee, maybe?" she smirked, leaning over the counter and swishing her almost-finished drink.

"Why don't you leave with us after your shift? Or how about now? We can promise a good time, handsome~" the other girl chimed in, puckering her lips and winking. What a promiscuous pair...

---

Icarus seemed to have been fairing well, despite the typical lecherous party girls admiring him and his looks like a tender piece of meat. Those sorts of girls weren't uncommon, and it was normal for even Ahote to have several run-ins with their type every time he was serving or manning the bar. Regardless, the silver-haired man glanced at Icarus and those girls every so often just to observe what was happening. He could tell that words were said and smiles were exchanged, but he couldn't hear what was spoken, and frankly, he didn't care to. As long as he was working, what he said in between was of little importance to him. Icarus seemed to be just fine.

Meanwhile, carefully meandering through the front of the house, Ahote served and cleaned as he went. It was clear that only after a short amount of observation that one could conclude that he was nothing short of... efficient. Every vacant table he passed by, he snatched the unattended and sometimes empty glasses onto a serving tray, balancing a large number of items on his hand with an almost expert amount of control. He'd wipe the tables clean, preparing them for the next inevitable occupancy. Not only that, despite the customers outnumbering him dozens of times over, but he also seemed to be capable of tending to everyone's needs and desires. Albeit, for a short amount of time, but enough to satisfy and appease everyone.

Back at the bar, the two young women continued to laugh and giggle at just about everything Icarus said as if he was a talented comedian. They played and sipped their intoxicating drinks, entertained by what was happening. However, their playful and almost theatric laughter was like sugar and honey in a room full of flies. It wasn't long before equally lascivious men saw the opportunity and went for it.

"Heya, babies!" one man greeted, sitting in the seat next to one of the girls.

"We couldn't help but see your cute asses from across the room, sooo..." said another, taking the seat next to the other girl. Together, they had sandwiched both of the young women in between them. They both looked like they were in their late twenties or early thirties, and dressed like they were working a standard and uneventful nine-to-five job as a telemarketer or something of that nature. They were... average when it came to looks, but carried the confidence of someone who would have to have looked like a model for the Sorcerer's Magazine. Unfortunately, their blatant advances didn't seem the least bit charming to the equally lustful party girls.

"Yeah, no thanks." she looked away from them, agitated.

"Hard pass." said the other, looking more disgusted than angry. Despite this, the two men seemed ever adamant to win them over. They weren't deterred by their obvious displeasure and responded with sly smirks of their own.

"Don't be like that! I guarantee a good time with me and my buddy here, girls!" one insisted, wrapping his arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Yeah! Hey, bartender!" the other looked at Icarus, beckoning him over, "Give us the hard stuff, and something sweet for the ladies! On us!"

---

As Icarus kept asking questions and making suggestions, the two men seemed to have less and less patience for him. To them, the more this charming young bartender spoke, the more he enroached on their courtmanship, so to speak, and to them, it was infuriating.

"Heyo, bartender! Just chill out, okay? You're really killing our buzz here, man." said the braver man. The two girls didn't even get the chance to reply to Icarus, but the disgust on their faces seemed to speak for them, although the two men didn't acknowledge their blatant displeasure. The instant they felt their hands slither onto their shoulders, they ripped their bodies away from their grip.

"C'mon man, I said give us something hard and sweet! Didn't you hear me, bro?" the other one chimed in, demanding the drinks he had ordered just seconds before. Although both of them were still smirking and humored by their own laughable seductions, it was easy to tell that they were both becoming increasingly aggravated by Icarus.

Meanwhile, in the front of the house, Ahote was still doing his work. It wasn't until he could physically no longer carry the dishes that he began to make his way back to the bar, which was adjacent to the kitchen in the back of the building. As he approached the bar, the silver-haired man couldn't help but notice the 'situation' unfolding at Icarus's station. He had seen it a million times, and he had handled it a million times, but he couldn't help but wonder what he would do.

"Gross!" one girl practically hurled.

"As if we'd get drinks from you two dickwads! Piss off!" the other added. It seemed as if this situation was only escalating, and Ahote approached it curiously.

---

Although Icarus had done everything he was supposed to, and maybe more, this seemed to only... exacerbate the situation. The moment his 'deal' left his mouth, the faces of those men became visibly peeved. The way their brows twitched and eyes widened made it clear that there was no longer space in their heads for reason, only something much worse.

"Huh? What'd you say, punk?" the man glared, both of them abruptly standing up from their seats. The girls suddenly looked more surprised than disgusted, and even a little anxious. It was clear that they were no stranger with what was about to happen, but it didn't mean that they drew comfort from it.

"Fuck your deal, man! Give us our fucking drinks or we'll fuck you up!" the other one challenged, although there wasn't much room for discussion.

As their voices grew louder, Ahote had no choice but to give his undivided attention to the situation unfolding. Maybe he was being a bit cruel in letting his employee handle it on his own. After all, it wasn't a test or anything, and he wasn't expecting his charming bartender to prove anything by any choices he was going to make this night, but one couldn't help but wonder what others would do in a situation he had been so accustomed to. That and, well, it was amusing to some extent.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Laspor?" one girl leaned back from her booth, giggling as Ahote was beginning to pass by.

Ahote stopped and paused, smiling his soft, deep smile. "Pardon?"

The girl rolled her eyes and pointed at the bar. "The boys over there. Looks like trouble~" Ahote followed her gaze, realizing that the water boiling over there was beginning to alert the nightclub. It was a fun show for everyone except the people who had to stop it, so it made sense that the girl seemed mildly amused to have found such a scene.

"Of course, everything is fine. Anything else I can do for you?"

---

Oh, brother! The situation was mildly amusing until Ahote had caught wind that Icarus was meaning to confront the belligerent men outside, one way or another. He was charming till the very end with his offers, but Ahote couldn't afford a fight to break loose on his property, and a fight was surely inevitable even if Icarus was avoiding it profusely. Besides, if Icarus humored these hooligans any longer, Ahote would surely end up manning the bar himself.

"What the fuck?" one man glared at Icarus.

"Screw that! We'll fuck you up right here, bro! Step up!" The braver man began to step forward, heading not for the exit, but for Icarus himself. He began to raise his fist, but before anything else could happen, Ahote found a place to insert himself.

"I'm sorry, but I need him a little more than you two, tonight." Ahote sighed, tapping the rather rambunctious one's shoulder. All three of the men were larger than him, but he seemed just as hard-faced and stiff as... any other time. "That said, you both need to leave."

It was clear in both the sternness and hardness of his voice that the charm and pleasantness he had exuded earlier and dwindled into impatience and unfriendliness. He had killed a lot of time just serving the front of the house, and they were about halfway through the night, so to have to deal with this was certainly a buzzkill, and got the hooligans fired up to some extent.

"Who the hell are you? What are you? A zombie? Fucking loser."

"Get your nasty-ass hands off of me, punk! Who are you?!" he ripped his shoulder away from Ahote's gentle grip, staring at him with this baffled look on his face. Both of them looked puzzled and ready to jump him as they were to Icarus.

Ahote sighed through his nostrils and shook his head. "The owner, and his boss."

"Huh?! You're really kicking us out, then?!"

"We're gonna tell our whole crew about this shitty club! You and your dumbass fuckin' bartender can't do shit!"

"Is that how it is?..." Ahote responded quietly. Although it might have appeared that he was dwelling on their threats, their words were simply going through one ear and out the other. Listening to their babbling was exhausting, and it was beginning to show. As usual, the hooligans didn't seem to like this or have the reasoning skills to understand why he looked to irritated by their very company. Needless to say, they responded with violence—or that was what was expected. "To be blunt, you can either leave now, or we'll have to get the Rune Knights involved. I'd suggest the former."

"Huh?!"

"Tch! Fuck off, man! We're outta this shithole anyway! C'mon, dude." one man grabbed the other, stuffing their hands in their pockets with an angry, reluctant look on their faces. Although both seemed particularly ready to brawl, it was a particularly bad location to do so. Capital Crocus was... well, the capital. Even at night, the Rune Knights were especially active. Now that Ahote was off of their watchlist, even he was willing to rely on their adamant supervision every now and then. On their way out, the especially brave man shoved his shoulder into Icarus's as he passed, glaring at him, while the other spat at his feet.

"Bitch." he huffed, and that was the end of it. It didn't make as much of a scene as some might have hoped, but it was enough to turn a few heads in the crowd. Fortunately, the club quickly returned to a sense of normality, but Ahote, however, was feeling especially exhausted now that the work had finally caught up with his fragile body.

The silver-haired man sighed as his golden eyes floated onto Icarus. There was a moment of silence between them before Ahote had said anything, and when he did, he walked over and gently patted his cheek in a firm, reassuring manner. "Don't worry—I'm sure you would've kicked their ass, yes? Go take a break if you need to." Ahote didn't smile, but his voice was equal parts thoughtful as it was quiet and firm. After that, he went back to serving in the front, and this would continue until closing.


It was ten minutes before closing, and the club was empty of everyone except the two remaining team members—Ahote and Icarus. It was early in the morning now, at a time where most establishments were closed or well on their way of doing that. Although Icarus wouldn't be around for Boomslang's second opening, the doors would reopen in just two short hours, and back to work, Ahote would go. Sure enough, he hardly had time for himself nowadays, but at least he was more than financially stable. Well, that was almost true. After recent developments, Ahote had developed a sort of eye for things he wants, and surely enough, they were easy to spot since he knew what he was looking for.

Sitting alone at a bar stool, Ahote held a cup of lukewarm water in a mixed drink glass. Strangely enough, he hated drinking alcohol despite operating a bar and being quite good at mixing drinks. He just never tasted them.

He was decompressing after a night of hard work, dwelling in his elusive thoughts. He wasn't entirely sure where Icarus was, as he was far too tired to even look. But, sure that he was somewhere nearby, perhaps preparing to leave, Ahote quietly seized the opportunity.

"Your pay will make it worth it, you know. I can assure you of that."

---

Neither of them really showed it, but it was clear that the air was heavy with working men's weariness. The stereos had been silenced, and there was not a sound or a peep except for their own breaths. It was a tranquility that could make you self-conscious, but in this case, Ahote was actually enjoying the opportunity to chat.

"My regulars understand, but if you see such a scene unfold again, you kick them out. I have no tolerance for that sort of behavior." Ahote sighed through his nose again, it now becoming clear that it was a sort of habit of his. However, as he paused, and chuckled softly and glanced at Icarus, simpering. "Well, except for tonight. Forgive me for not getting involved sooner, but I couldn't help but wonder what you'd do..."

It was true, to some extent. Ahote was always a busybody, known for his initiative and work ethic. It was no doubt that he'd be the first to intervene in anything unsightly. Perhaps a characteristic of his persona or an old habit of his time as the Guildmaster of Basilisk Fang, Ahote was stoic and blunt about what he wanted and what he didn't... except now, of all times. He almost couldn't find the words to exchange with Icarus, despite wanting to be humored in a conversation after a stressful shift.

"Are you in a guild, Icarus?" he asked, continuing to look at him with his mellow, interested countenance, "Or better yet—are you a sorcerer?"

---

Sabertooth, huh? Ahote had a distaste for legal guilds and their wizards, as they often exuded sickeningly bright attitudes, and their moral compasses seemed deluded, but Ahote had little qualms with Sabertooth. They were giants in the guild community and were one of few who had maintained some clout and renown even after all of these years. Unlike Fairy Tail, they had a consistently good reputation among countrymen. He knew that it was inevitable for men like Icarus to join his staff team, but Ahote was pleased to have acquired such a charming and easygoing character. It would be... amusing, to say the least.

"I see, but is that really all you care about? Men like you..." Ahote looked at Icarus, "...usually have bigger burdens then they let on." he said, now looking at his wings. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't want to touch them, and was wondering whether or not they'd be soft or rough. Could he pluck a feather out, and if he did, would it hurt?

There was a pause after he said there, in which he'd place his glass down and walk over to the other side of the counter. There it was—that hard face of his, but it wasn't as if he were upset. It was as if that unfriendly expression was multi-purpose. Right now, he was deep in thought, wondering what he wanted to do with Icarus's company. Surely enough, he wanted to touch his wings, but he couldn't help but seize the opportunity to pry.

"Coffee or alcohol? Humor me, will you?"

---

"Both?" Ahote tilted his head, puzzled by the request. There was a pause in his speech, and it was clear that he was trying to determine whether or not he heard Icarus correctly and if he did, whether or not he should adhere to such an indecisive request. Pondering his choice of drink, Ahote was longingly staring at Icarus's wings until the man himself had invited him to touch it.

"...Is it that obvious?" Ahote suddenly covered his mouth with his hand, his cheeks flushing slightly, embarrassed by his overt interest in his wings. For a man who presented himself as stoic and unreadable, Ahote seemed easily flustered when people could read his thoughts or emotions like an open book. Regardless, he'd seize the opportunity to grope Icarus's feathery features by walking back around the counter and standing behind him.

His hands ran over the boney rim of the wings, letting his fingers graze down the wall of feathers with a gentle touch, feeling it across his fingertips. Again, his cheeks lit up. It just so happened that Ahote enjoyed all things soft, fuzzy, and animal-like, and had a difficult time hiding it when distracted. Although his complexion was tinged with pink, his eyes remained narrow and dagger-like, almost as if glaring. It was an odd countenance he was wearing, for sure. What was a moment of innocent awe had suddenly become more intense when Ahote abruptly pulled on the joint of his wing, closest to his back, practically just yanking it!

"Does it hurt when I do this?" he leaned over his shoulder, looking at his face from an angle. Judging by the purely quizzical look on his countenance, it was certain that he genuinely wanted to know, and genuinely found it fitting to yank on it as he had.

---

It hurt. Of course it did. Why wouldn't it? After having done it, the silver-haired man realized that he was wanting more to provoke a reaction out of him more than an honest answer, and judging by the surprised yelp he made, it did the trick.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Ahote was interested in his face. His hair was unbearably messy, eyes were long and sharp, a pointy nose, and strips of fuzz along his jaw to resemble what Ahote thought was a beard. Even after leaving his body unattended, Ahote was never able to grow facial hair himself. Regardless, he enjoyed studying Icarus, but not so much that he had forgotten the task in which he was given.

"To some, perhaps..." said Ahote, pulling away his face and looking at the nape of Icarus's neck and his wings one last time before meandering back around the counter and shuffling through shelves for the things he needed for the coffee and cocktail, "The way I see it, I do what needs to be done to get certain results. That sound you just made—" he slightly peered over his shoulder, looking at him with that stoic expression, "—I'm satisfied."

After that, he resumed the process of brewing his drinks. He was nearly an expert in this craft, creating the mixtures with a master's efficiency and attention to detail. Although the pressure of serving his customers quickly was gone, Ahote seemed consistently adamant in his quick delivery. In only a few minutes, two glasses were slid in front of Icarus; one cup of an aromatic coffee brew, and another glass of a Rum Martinez.

He wiped his hands on a clean rag before gently placing it on the counter and looking at Icarus again. "Here. The beans are from Bellum, and that drink is a Rum Martinez. However, if you can't hold your liquor, don't drink it." Ahote leaned onto the counter again, carefully pushing the drink forward, "I'm not entirely sure what I'd do with you if you passed out here."

---

Ahote started that morning feeling refreshed and anticipant of his easygoing employee, Icarus. Those after-shift exchanges were brief but quickly became numerous. What started as the occasional drink after work almost became routine, as far as Ahote saw it. The way he carried himself and his words, how refined his body appeared, and how he acted as if he were living in the moment—Ahote was enamored with him. Of course, he was never one to vocalize these sorts of observations, but he did make them, and until recently, he never acted on them either.


Their shifts had just ended, and Boomslang was closed for another two hours. For Icarus, he wouldn't have to step foot in the place for a little while, but Ahote knew that he wouldn't even have time for a nap if he were to uphold his listed schedule—and Ahote was dedicated to keeping his own word, in this case. He knew that consistent sleep was but a luxury to him, but choosing what to do with his free time was something he had more control over than he thought he did, and after sleeping on the idea, he knew exactly what he wanted.

"It was a busy night, so I know that you must be tired... but..." Ahote said, softly. Alone at the bar, Ahote and Icarus were with each other's company. A cup of coffee and a new drink was in front of Icarus, as was now usual for their after-work exchanges. However, this time, the stoic man was leaning behind his employee, his face close to his neck and eyes wandering from feature to feature. He was much closer than all the other nights, and this time he had other things in mind. His voice trailed off as his mind wandered away from the conversation and fixed to Icarus's body.

---

Ahote liked to think that he was pretty good at reading people. In fact, that was an understatement—more often than not, he could size a person up and make good guesses on their character and desires. However, until recently, the moody and brooding owner of Boomslang was a prude. It took the death of his mother and mentor and addressing years of emotional baggage for Ahote to come to terms with his identity, and move on. While in many ways Ahote was efficient and well-coordinated in life and most things he did, he still fell short of romance and seduction... much less keeping his ears from turning red when he attempted. All he knew is that he saw someone in front of him that he wanted and was determined to attempt to attain.

When the silver-haired man saw that round face lean back with a usual easygoing smile tinged over it, he made his mind up. Suddenly, Ahote carefully grabbed Icarus's chin and brought his face down to his, so close that the tips of their noses could graze each other.

"Do you mind?" he asked in a calm, quiet voice. He was sure that people like Iris, Aeluri, and Baird could ascertain consent without actually asking. But for Ahote, who was still "new to the game," he couldn't know for sure, and needless to say, he was bashful about it all.

While being moody and somewhat stoic was definitely part of his personality, Ahote couldn't help but be himself even when he didn't want to be. In this case, no matter the situation, he still struggled to hide his shyness or embarrassment even with the straightest of faces. His ears with light up with a soft pinkishness, and he'd begin to speak out more than usual. How charming, one might think.

---

Ah... that really did it. The moment Icarus closed that distance between his lips and Ahote's, he could feel all the pent-up tension he had been holding for days. It felt as if his body was melting down from the top of his head into the soles of his feet, planting him there in between Icarus. It wasn't just his ears that were tinged with that soft pink, but his nose and cheeks as well. For many, it would be hard to believe that such a normally serious man could make such an unwary face.

"What I want?" Ahote said aloud, pausing after Icarus's question. Before now, Ahote had a lot of things on his mind, and he was sure that they were all of some importance. Now that he had begged the question, what was he thinking about? He couldn't seem to remember, but he did know what he wanted in this moment. After that brief silence, the silver-haired man took both of his hands this time to cup over Icarus's cheeks, bringing him just slightly downward to his lips once more. "Just you, for now. That's all..."

If there was a point to reconsider what they were about to do—to correct and reverse this taboo interaction between employer and employee—it had passed. For now and the next few hours, the two would indulge in one another in the most intimate way possible.


That next day, Ahote had to admit he was feeling a bit more fatigued than usual. A man as in love with work as him didn't often get many chances of truly sleeping or missing it when he lacked it, so it couldn't have been that. Though, he was certain that he knew why.

Boomslang was just about to open again for the night, lines of people waiting outside to be let in for their night of escaping reality. It'd be about ten minutes before Ahote would have to adhere to that, but until then, he stood behind the bar counter, polishing one of many glasses. Again, he was alone tonight, but he was expecting his deceptively hardworking bartender to join him for their shift any minute now.

---