Page 2 of Gratification in Gluttony (Passing Through Cafe #2)

Chapter two

Curling Irons and Llama-Print Button-Ups

The club was already busy with patrons, but the noise of chatter and music was dull backstage. Granted, the cast of dancers and singers were making enough noise amongst themselves as they prepared for the show ahead, but Toni didn’t mind the background buzz as he twisted the curling iron at just the right angle to get the type of curls Zef liked best.

“Like that, right?” He checked in with the Mantodea, and Zef glanced up from their lyric sheet to meet Toni’s gaze in the mirror.

Their milky, compound eyes blinked several times as they shifted their mental focus from memorizing lyrics to Toni’s question. Then they inspected the curls he’d created in the back. Slowly, Zef nodded. “Yes, they look very nice, Toni. Thank you.”

Clicking his tongue, he winked at Zef’s reflection. “No need to thank me. I got you, baby. Toni’s gonna fix you up right.”

Zef’s lips twitched in a minuscule smile, and Toni chuckled. Zef didn’t emote all that much, so when Toni could get a smile out of them, it was kind of a big deal. They’d been working together for years, and he liked to think they were friends, but Zef was hard to read, even after all this time.

They were reserved and quirky, but Toni had liked them immediately. Zef, however, had not taken to Toni quite as quickly. He’d tried not to let it bother him; he hadn’t always succeeded. He was self-aware enough to know he wasn’t everyone’s favorite flavor, but he tended to grow on people, given enough time and effort. And he’d worked hard to wriggle past Zef’s defenses.

Ensuring he didn’t touch anything but Zef’s hair, he gathered another chunk of white silk and gently curled it around the iron. As the only boy growing up surrounded by older sisters, he’d learned all about styling hair, color-matching makeup, and how “ not to wear navy blue with black, Toni, oh my gods!”

Of course, his pop hadn’t liked that Toni learned all that “girly shit,” but by the time he found out the extent of it, it had been too late. The knowledge had cemented itself in Toni’s brain, never to be forgotten.

So, when Zef allowed, Toni styled their hair for their performances, ignoring the part of himself—that sounded too much like his father—that screamed at him for being a pathetic wuss, telling him to “be a man,” whatever the fuck that even meant. But he told that voice to go fuck itself. He could be whatever man he wanted, and he just so happened to be a man that enjoyed doing his friend’s hair.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Gem wailed as he bustled into Zef’s prep space with the energy of a hurricane. He dropped cases of makeup and clattering brushes on the surface of the vanity and gasped for air. “Please tell me you didn’t start your makeup already.”

Zef shook their head, and Toni followed the movement with the iron so as not to yank out any strands or ruin the integrity of the curl— “Integrity of the curl is key, Toni. Fuck that up, and you might as well get a perm like a common whore!”

“Toni ain’t no common whore, Flo,” Toni muttered under his breath as he released the curl from the iron with a smug grin. “Now that’s a beaut.”

“It’s creepy when you talk to yourself like that,” Gem said, three red eyes scrutinizing Toni as the other five focused on preparing the makeup palette.

Without looking away from Zef’s hair, Toni flipped his best friend off. “It keeps me in the zone, and when I’m in the zone, I create masterpieces. So shut your beautiful mouth and let Toni work.”

Gem snickered as he mixed foundations on the back of his hand until he had the correct green shade for Zef’s complexion. Zef’s ghost of a smile grew to an amused half-grin, and Toni caught their subtle chuckle as they turned to Gem and closed their eyes in preparation. They kept perfectly still as Toni curled another chunk of their wispy hair and Gem started blotting the makeup on their cheeks and forehead.

Toni perfected the last curl as Gem finished contouring their face into a more feminized version of themself. As the Araknis started on the eyeshadow, Toni grabbed the hair spray and shook the can.

“I’m gonna loosen some of the curls with my fingers. Give it a little volume,” he said, and Zef blinked one eye open to meet his black gaze in the mirror. “That okay?”

They contemplated a moment before dipping their chin. “Yes.”

“Okay, coming in with the hairspray.”

Doing his best not to make too much contact with their scalp or neck, Toni raked his fingers through a few sections of their hair to give some life and bounce to the curls. Then he sprayed it all down to ensure it held under the heat of the stage lights and their choreography.

After inspecting every angle, Toni clapped his hands and grinned. “Toni, you have outdone yourself tonight.”

“Give him a curling iron and a can of hairspray, and he turns more femme than me,” Gem grumbled as he dusted glitter over the colored powder on Zef’s eyelids.

Without opening their eyes, Zef smiled wide enough to show teeth, and Toni snorted, splaying his hands like he was a prize on a game show. “I contain multitudes, baby.”

Gem’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his tiny, leather shorts with one hand and read the message with a small, red eye as his main focus remained on Zef’s face. “Rusty got Ollie and Jude from the train station, and they’re on their way. I’ll go wait for them at the door.” Glancing up at Toni, he offered Toni the bottle of setting spray. “Finish up for me?”

“Sure.”

As they swapped places, Gem leaned down, nearly pressing his cheek to Zef’s. “Do you like it?”

Zef’s milky eyes opened, and they inspected Gem’s work with a lazy tilt of their head. A sly smirk curled their mouth, and when they spoke, their voice had a sultry glide they only possessed when they’d slipped into their stage persona. “It is perfect, Gemae. As always.”

Beaming, Gem gave the tip of their antenna a playful flick, and Zef gasped dramatically, shooing him away with an air of huffy, exaggerated offense.

“Off with you, you incorrigible deviant,” they chided, two hands fluttering in exasperation as the other two fidgeted with their lyric sheet.

Gem threw his head back with a cackle, then shimmied his way toward the side door leading to the main stage. “Break a leg out there, mommy! You look hot as sin.”

With an amused huff, Zef turned back to their reflection and played with a few of the curls, laying them this way, then that, until they were satisfied. They added extra glitter to their temples, then sat back in their chair.

“Mommy like?” Toni asked.

“I find that misnomer very uncomfortable,” they said dryly.

Toni laughed. “Noted.”

“But yes, I am very happy with the results.”

“You look sexy.”

“Under these specific circumstances,” they sniffed haughtily, “that is the point.”

Holding up the setting spray, Toni asked, “Any changes? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I am ready,” they said primly.

The mist settled over Zef’s face and neck, and while they waved their four hands to dry it, Toni gathered up the explosion of makeup items Gem had left strewn across the vanity. “I’m gonna head to the bar so we can order drinks before the show. Do you need anything else?”

“No, but thank you, Toni. I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime,” he dismissed as he zipped up Gem’s bag and tucked it under the vanity for safe keeping.

Zef sounded much more themself when they said, “I value the time we spend together before my shows.”

That brought Toni up short, and he straightened slowly, studying Zef’s face as they avoided eye contact. “Me too, Zef.” A slight flush darkened their light green skin under their makeup, and they chewed on their thin bottom lip with their tiny, blunt teeth. Using the handle of an eyeshadow brush, Toni tapped their chin. “None of that. You’ll ruin your lipstick, and Gem’ll be pissed.”

Zef released a humored noise. “He would come on stage and try to fix it in the middle of my set.”

“And we can’t have that,” Toni said, making Zef shake their head. “I’ll see you out there?”

Zef nodded.

“You look beautiful, Zef.” He headed to the side door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “You’re gonna knock them dead.”

Their confident air returned, and Zef shook out their hair, leveling Toni with a smug stare. “I always do.”

“That’s the spirit.”

As Zef refocused on their lyric sheet, Toni left the backstage, wincing when the loud club music blasted over him. It took a minute for his ears to adjust, and he did his best to force the noise into the background so he could at least hear himself think.

The booth closest to the stage was always reserved for them, and he spotted Quin, Glyma, and Tad already seated. Willow and Gem stood halfway between the booth and the bar, chatting animatedly. Toni made his way to the booth first.

Tad sat on the edge of the table, facing the stage, her stubby legs swinging as she tracked his approach with bulbous eyes. Toni lifted his chin in greeting, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Toni didn’t think Tad liked him much. To be honest, Toni didn’t think Tad liked anyone. Except Zef, of course.

“Ladies,” Toni greeted, and Glyma turned away from Quin to beam up at him.

“Toni, I wondered where you were.”

“Just helping Zef perfect their hair. You know, as I do.” He brushed off his shoulder, bringing a giggle from Glyma. It was a smooth, lovely sound that glided over Toni’s skin like satin. His dicks stirred, but he shut that down quick, shaking off the involuntary reaction.

It wasn’t exactly his fault, the same way it wasn’t Glyma’s. She was a Succubus, after all, and her aura was potent, even if she wasn’t trying to seduce anyone. Plus, she was drop-dead gorgeous, with her lavender skin, dark lilac hair, and rocking bod. She was thick and curvy, with a soft apron belly and love handles Toni kind of wanted to gnaw on. You know, respectfully!

But she was his boss and in a committed relationship with Quin—his other boss—so the physical attraction was easy to dismiss.

Quin was the opposite of Glyma in a lot of ways. She was short and thin with dark red skin and black dreads she kept piled on top of her head between the two horns curling above her ears. And while Glyma was out-going and bubbly, Quin was introverted and down-to-earth, her humor dry and a little sharp.

Toni liked her a lot, and not just because she let him spend his lunch breaks in her office napping on her couch. She knew about Toni’s family but had never judged him for it—probably because she had her own family issues. But even though she often kept to herself, Toni knew she enjoyed it when he spent his lunchtime in her office, talking shit about both their families.

“You’re both looking lovely this evening,” Toni said, gesturing to their cocktail dresses that didn’t exactly match but still complimented each other. “Glyma, beautiful as always. Quin, you are keeping it tight.”

Glyma simpered. “Aw, thank you, Toni.”

Quin frowned deeply. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”

“Duly noted,” Toni said, rapping the tabletop with his knuckles. “I’m heading to the bar. What’cha drinking?”

“Devil’s Breath,” Tad said. “Straight, no chaser.”

“Disgusting, but unsurprising,” Toni said.

“Human bourbon on the rocks,” Quin said.

Toni nodded. “Classic.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll try the bubbly bloody barmy,” Glyma said.

“A fine choice indeed.”

Rapping the table again, Toni straightened. “I’ll be back. Try not to have too much fun without me, yeah?”

Tad grunted and turned back to the stage, mottled green fingers tapping her knobby knees. Glyma laughed good-naturedly. Quin rolled her eyes, but Toni caught the subtle curl at the corner of her mouth, her blood-red eyes crinkling with amusement.

Spinning on his heels, he nearly smacked Willow in the face with his back fin. “Oh shit, sorry, Wil.”

“That’s okay,” Willow smiled demurely, giving his shoulder a squeeze with her rough, bark-like hand. “Do you need help with the drinks?”

“Nah, I got it. Go ahead and sit down. Rest your roots.” He bowed slightly and waved the Dryad into the booth like a gameshow host. “What do you want to drink, baby?”

“Chilled tea with a splash of Green Spirit, please and thank you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Battling the crowd, Toni waited his turn to order drinks. He smiled and waved at familiar faces and chatted with a few acquaintances as they passed by. He recognized more than half the people there, which made sense; Toni Maryno knew everybody, and everybody knew Toni Maryno.

It wasn’t always a good thing; the Maryno name came with certain expectations and assumptions. But the way he saw it, he could decide what a name stood for, the same way he could choose what being a man meant.

Attention catching on several waving arms, Toni turned, and Gem pointed at the three people with him. Rusty stood on Gem’s left, wearing his usual baggy, black jeans with nothing on top except suspenders. His bright pink fur was thick but cleanly brushed, and his customary frown was trained on Gem’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

Toni resisted the urge to growl at him, knowing Rusty wouldn’t hear the warning, not with how loud it was in the club. He’d never liked the Pyclon—and no, it wasn’t because he was a Pyclon or because Toni had been able to smell the Flesh Street on him the second he stepped foot in the cafe all those years ago. It wasn’t even because Rusty was a bit of a downer most of the time.

Life was hard, especially for folks like Rusty. Even Toni had certain privileges compared to many of the species living in Lust. In any other circumstance, he would have offered the Pyclon a bit more sympathy, given the tough hand he’d been dealt.

So, no, Toni’s dislike had nothing to do with any of those things. It did, however, have everything to do with how Rusty treated Gem. He’d been nothing but a scrawny, punk-ass little shit when he’d started working at the cafe, and he’d had the fucking audacity to talk shit about Gem. Gem, who was literally the best person in the entire Pentagram. And that little bitch had sneered down his whiskered nose at him.

That, Toni could not abide. People could disrespect him all they wanted, but no one— no one —disrespected Gemae Akyllo. Not on Toni’s watch.

Even now, Rusty was sneering down at Gem’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, like the Araknis was somehow dirtying him or something. It made Toni want to rip off his fluffy, pink-striped tail and wring his chubby neck with it!

Instead of giving in to the murderous urge, he dismissed the Pyclon and looked to Gem’s other side where Oliver stood. He was taking in the club with wide, brown eyes, eyes that eventually met Toni’s. He grinned, and Toni lifted his hand and pantomimed taking a drink.

Gem and Oliver exchanged words Toni couldn’t hear, not without straining—which would just give him a headache given the noise of the club—so Toni took the opportunity to check out the cute, little human at Oliver’s side.

Jude was short, with narrow shoulders, wide hips, and a soft-looking tummy. His dark curls were windswept, and those ochre eyes that had captured Toni’s attention during their first introduction were locked on Oliver. Even at this distance, Toni could see the smattering of brown dots across his nose and cheekbones, only a few shades darker than his olive skin. Toni wanted to trace each one with his finger—or his tongue.

While Jude’s features sent Toni’s blood humming, his outfit was interesting. He wore khaki slacks and a sleeveless vest over a purple button-up. But the shirt had yellow cartoon animals all over it, each of them wearing rainbow party hats. Toni didn’t know what animal it was, but it looked weird. Four-legged and fluffy, but with a long-ass neck. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

It was so ridiculous and, honestly, a little ugly, but it made Toni laugh. He wanted to go over there and ask Jude what animal it was and why they were wearing party hats. He wanted to ask why Jude liked that shirt and where Toni could buy one. He’d have to rip the sleeves, of course, but he didn’t think it would ruin the look too much.

But before Toni could head that direction, Oliver was gesturing for Gem, Rusty, and Jude to go on without him, then he started Toni’s way. Ah, oh well. Toni would have to catch up with Jude later. Which he would. He was on a mission tonight, a mission to glide his way into Jude’s good graces, and if he was lucky, maybe into his bed as well.