“Fuck you, Jude.”
“That’s not a no.”
With a hiss, the Pyclon bared his sharp canines, but it only made Jude laugh harder. “Bite me!”
“Gem might get jealous,” Jude slapped back, and Rusty reared back, pink eyes widening.
“The fuck? That’s not even—why would you—I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” the Pyclon muttered, slumping lower in his seat.
Far too satisfied with himself, Jude preened. “Sure you don’t.”
Oliver and Liel were the last to arrive, but they made it just as the lights in the bar lowered and the ones on the stage flared to life. Oliver circled behind the booth to clap Bryce on the shoulder and hug Jude before he joined Liel on the other end of the booth beside Quin.
The door to the backstage opened, and Toni and Tad slipped out, hurrying to take their seats with the rest of the group. Tad climbed onto the table and sat, webbed feet swinging. Toni took the chair at the end of the booth beside Rusty, his spinal fin slotting into the gap as music started to play over the speakers.
Several of the queens Bryce had watched get ready stepped onto the stage and struck their poses. The spotlight zeroed in on the curtain as one thingreen arm appeared and a sultry voice began to sing. A moment later, Zef stepped out onto the stage, and Bryce nearly swallowed his tongue.
A deep red dress hugged their slim frame, held up by the thinnest straps on their shoulders. The skirt was long, but a dangerously high slit ran up one side, and as they moved, he was gifted a lovely view of their peridot leg, insectoid foot graced in strappy heels.
Their pearlescent hair tumbled around their face in huge, loose curls, and their makeup transformed their androgynous features into something purely feminine. Bold, red lipstick filled out their mouth, and they’d even shaded the top of their chest to give the illusion of cleavage, though they weren’t wearing fake breasts.
“Jessica Rabbit,”Bryce thought as he watched Zef glide across the stage, crooning a smooth, sensual melody. He didn’t recognize the song, a Hellian number, of course, but Zef’s voice was rich and beautiful. Sexy, even, which was a word he never would have attributed to the Mantodea.
“Whoa,” he said, and Jude nodded.
“Right? Zef cleans up nice.”
Speechless, Bryce watched Zef dance along with the choreography of their back-up dancers, never missing a beat or a lyric. The crowd sang along, cheering when Zef hit an eerie falsetto note that had chills scrabbling over Bryce’s arms.
“They’re incredible,” he said to no one in particular.
“They are,” Willow agreed as the first song started to fade.
Before the music stopped completely, it bled into another song, something more upbeat, and Zef spoke into the microphone, gesturing to the curtain. He assumed they were introducing Gem, but since they spoke Hellia, he didn’t understand any of it.
The crowd did though, because they cheered loudly as Gem burst from behind the curtain, his white dress stretched over a pair of fake breasts. He didn’t look all that different from normal. His makeup was bolder, sharpening his features, and his hair was styled like an old Hollywood starlet, his normally tight coils smoothed into waves.
He greeted the crowd, sans microphone, before he and Zef launched into the next song. Gem didn’t sing, lip-syncing along with Zef’s vocals, but he went all out with the choreography. The audience went wild when he executed a perfect death-drop in the center of the stage.
As Zef continued on stage, Gem slunk down the steps into the seating area, flirting and interacting with the crowd. He made a beeline for their booth, stopping first at Oliver, running several hands through his blond hair until it was a mess. Oliver just laughed, giving Gem’s ass a slap as he shimmied away.
He circled behind the booth, fingertips dancing over the backs of Glyma’s, Jude’s, and Bryce’s necks. Pausing behind Rusty, Gem slid numerous hands over the Pyclon’s shoulders and down his chest, lip-syncing into his ear. For his part, Rusty just rolled his eyes and huffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.
One of Gem’s hands must have slunk too low because Rusty jolted and slapped it away, making Gem pout obnoxiously at the crowd. Everyone laughed. Except for Toni. Toni looked furious, glaring daggers at Rusty. To appease him, Gem plopped down on Toni’s lap, draping his upper arms over the Elas’s shoulders as he played it up for the audience, grinding rather inappropriately against his best friend.
Going along with the bit, Toni grabbed Gem’s ass with one hand as he fist-pumped the air with the other. Another ripple of laughter traveled through the room as Gem dismounted and made his way back to the stage.
Zef segued into a third song, and they finished with Gem beside them, dancing close to each other without actually touching. Gem toed the line, rolling his body suggestively to give the appearance that he was grinding up on Zef, but since Zef never pushed him away, Bryce assumed he never made contact.
With a final beat, their set ended, and they both struck a pose, flanked by the back-up dancers. Bryce stood and clapped, joining the cheering crowd as Zef and Gem both bowed.
“That’s my roommate,” he boasted loudly, and Zef turned his way, white eyes wide as the corners of their mouth lifted in an almost-smile.
The Madame’s performance was theatrical and fierce, and both Zef and Gem joined her for the final song and dance. When the drag queens left the stage, a live band took their place, and everyone settled in with their drinks to socialize. Gem joined them—sans fake breasts—right away, still wearing his white dress and ostentatious makeup.
He ate up their praise over his performance until he excused himself because, “I can finally pee now that my dick isn’t taped to my asshole.” Toni, Rusty, and Oliver went to the bar to get another round, and not wanting to risk making a fool of himself in front of his new friends, Bryce stuck with ginger ale—or the Hellia equivalent.
He’d never really liked the taste of most alcohol, and he didn’t want to get too drunk and embarrass himself when he was only now starting to fit in with the group. Most of the others had no such qualms though. Toni, Jude, and Oliver were already toasted, and Willow and Glyma weren’t far behind. Liel was nursing his third cocktail, his smile loose as he played with the hairs at the back of Oliver’s neck.
