milkbar.

“This doesn’t look right,”

Fuck me, I got to get out of here, the bands are about to start. Ok, last change, last chance. Does this black tube top look better than this black crop top? Turn left, turn right. Jesus, all my outfits are virtually identical. No need for an existential fashion crisis right now. Ok, full body shake, pull it together. Chill out and take another sip, now twirl. “I’m fucking hot, who cares!” Those affirmations are doing me well. This outfit sends the right message. Moving into hair. Brush, brush the short coils on my dome. Slick it back forming the crown of waves. This is good, don’t touch it. Now which silver jewels will frame my cheeks? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, let's go with the big o-ring chain and the dangle knives. Don’t want to appear too approachable. That’s lovely, leave it there freak. Now looking back at the full fit, looks good from this angle, that angle is nice too. Five more squats for good measure. Ignore those crunchy tin man knees, nightfall awaits. Shit, almost forgot the shoes. Clunking around in these platforms is going to be a mistake. Who do I think I am wearing devil horns on my feet? Only Satan’s side chick would do some shit like that. Well ya know, the devil is alright. He hits me up on full moons. We dance and argue naked. When he leaves he says he’ll see that pussy soon. I pretend not to hold my breath. Living cannot be felt without sin. Maybe Satan can help keep my ankles unbroken. Oh, there goes my phone. Wow, Moni is bailing,

‘Sorry, I decided to stay home with BAE.’

Aww, fuck you. Girl, you’re always with BAE. I guess my single ass will venture alone. Maybe I’ll make a four-hour friend. Great drunk chat until two a.m., then the numbers disappear into the ether of my contacts. Never to be dialed.

Alright, only a 15-minute walk to the bar. Hopefully, this isn't the first time in history the music starts on time. Trees outside my apartment are dancing with the breeze, streetlights welcome me into the night. The moonlight washes over my bare shoulders and the wind whispers that tonight is going to be lovely. I light a smoke quickly so I can properly breathe in the evening. The moon looks so big she almost looks blue.

“Have a good night.”

I crook my neck to see an old black man in a lawn chair smoking a black and mild. Old school. He looks calm, cool, and collected. Like he too is falling in love with this blue moon.

“Same to you, sir.”

We are now approaching the ever so divey, Milk Bar. Wooden walls covered in stickers and loud stories. I like this venue because its eclectic. Could be playing hardcore punk all night or the speakers could be blasting booty shakers on a Saturday. Meeka’s band is funk-filled mayhem. I hope the crowd dances accordingly. As I roll up to the door it appears most of the crowd is smoking and lingering outside. There’s Meeka!

“Sunni! Hey dude!!”

“Hey Meek! You stoked to play tonight?”

“Yeah, definitely stoked. Definitely really nervous. Hope everything goes well”

“It is absolutely gonna go great. You and the band are going to kill it!”

“Thanks, thank you,” She takes a loud exhale to steady her nerves. I rub her shoulder in encouragement. “Hey meet everyone,” she turns me around to a sea of queer beauty. Beanies, buzz cuts, and wire-rimmed glasses as far as the eye can see. They form a half-circle around me while I get about seven names and don’t remember one. All the introductions run together.

“Hi, nice to meet you guys”

“Hey, how you doing?”

“Yo, I’ve never seen this bar so crowded.”

“Oh you’ve never been here, where do you live?”

“Hi, I’m Sunni.”

“Damn, your overalls are sick.”

“Hey, I’m Sunni, nice to meet you.”

You’re all fucking gorgeous. But as my eyes scan back and forth, I can now see everyone is wifed-up. Boooo, this is fuckin’ wack. Can’t accidentally flirt with anyone because a parade of dirty looks will get me thrown out of here.

“I’m going to go get a drink," I say to no one in particular.

The vibe is fine. Wish Moni wouldn't have cancelled. One partner in crime to roam the huddled-up crowd would be nice right now. Meeting new people feels tedious sometimes. How many times do I have to tell people I have a bullshit job, yes I live in the area, no I don’t know which band is first? I'm just trying to dance into the night. Drink up slut, just try not to-

“Hey, I didn't meet you yet. I’m Kris”

Holy shit. A pale little thing with jet black hair and the darkest narrow eyes. Peeking out above their shirt collar I see an elaborate neck tattoo with their long hair bouncing around their ears. Dirty jeans, delicately tattooed forearms, and hands full of silver rings stand before me like The Non-Binary Asian Emperor of Alt. Kris reaches for my hand as I’m trying to recover from their handsomeness.

“Hi, I’m Sunni.” I take their soft hand, calloused fingers. God what pretty eyes you have.

“That’s a great name, it goes with your smile,” Kris shakes their head like they said something corny. It was corny but I can dig it.

“You’re sweet,” I cheese.

“So you know the band coming up?”

“Yeah, me and Meeka went to college together.” I find Meeka in the crowd and point to her. When I look back at Kris their eyes are on my bare stomach, scanning up my torso. They nod at me, making me smile again. “How do you know everyone?”

“I know Meeka’s girlfriend, Kennedy,” they point across the room and it's my turn to stare.

“Oh well yeah, that’s how we all know each other. It's always the girlfriend or the ex-girlfriend or the exes girlfriend's ex.”

“Ha! Definitely the queer ecosystem thrives on.”

“A tangled web of exes and futures.”

Kris smirks at me, “Yes, I hope so.” Oh damn. We. Are. On.

“Have you ever been to this bar before?” I ask already knowing their answer.

“No actually. Weird name, I thought there would be milk in the alcohol or something.”

I throw my head back and laugh, trying to flirt as thoroughly as possible, “That’s so funny, yeah I still don’t know why they call it Milk Bar. They don’t serve milk or throw violent orgies in here at all.”

“Ha! Well, thank god. So you have been here?”

“Yeah I used to come here for stand-up night. But it's expensive now.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm, something about handing the door guy twenty-five bucks doesn't sit right to me.”

“And what if the comedy is no good?”

I lean into Kris and whisper a bit, “Yeah, not to be an ass but we’re not seeing any Netflix comedians. Just your roommates, cousins, uncles, comedy.”

“You’re cute,” their eyes smile at me, their mouth smirks.

“Oh my gosh thank you. I tried really hard tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, the fit I was going for is “Saturday Night Vampire,” I do a little twirl for them as I take a drag of my smoke.

“HA! Well I think it might be giving vampire hunter”

“Ok, ok. I can see that.”

“But is it maybe even saying vampire prey since your neck and chest are so,” they graze their hand across my neck. We freeze smiling even bigger at each other. They drop their hand quickly and shake their head “My bad that was-”

“No, no,” I grab their fingers, “you’re right. The tube top translates to vampire victim. Or maybe I’m setting a trap," my arms wave like an excited chicken. I look up and a couple is staring at me confused. "Ok, I’ll stop, this is ridiculous.”

“No, it's not. I see what you mean. Setting a naked neck trap for a vampire to then slay them. Very Blade!“

“Yes!” I squeeze their calloused hand, “You’re in my head!”

“Well-” Interrupted. Someone runs out of the bar, crashing into Kris knocking my hand loose. A waif of a girl already blitzed by 9 pm. Very interesting. They tug on Kris’s arm, bouncing from foot to foot like a toddler.

“Kris, come to the bathroom with me!” the waif pleads.

Damn well, this could mean a lot of things.

Kris says under their breath, “I’m talking right now Shelby, just go by yourself.” Shelby? What is this, Steel Magnolias? I take a sip of my drink slowly and toss my cigarette butt away. Little Shelby wobbles and shoots me a look. You don’t have to tell me I’m too hot to be talking to “your person”. They like me already, I fucking know it.

“Come on please?”

“Shelby just go. I’ll see you later.”

She drunkenly pouts and hits me with a fuck you look. She trots back into the bar.

“Sorry. What were we talking about?”

“Vampires and how you can look like both one of them and a slayer of them.”

“Yes, and you embody both quite well.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“And how do I look? Am I giving a character?” They raise their arms and cock their hips to the left.

“Well let’s see,” I take stride and circle them. “Well just from the dark grey jeans to the flannel

I’m going to guess Musician. I’m hoping you’re a drummer but not ruling out guitar. “ Kris’s face is exploding pink with smiles. “ And this nice belt,” I pressed two fingers on their hip. Smiling hard into their eyes, I find their belt loop and give it a tug. “I’m not getting anything specific from the belt.” Kris giggles and bites their lip, “But those chucks are definitely scuffed skate shoes” I take a step back.

“Well shit,” Kris shakes their head in disbelief.

“How did I do?”

They step into me close, “Who told you I drum?”

“No way! Skater too? I’m psychic tonight!”

“You’re telling me no one told you?”

“No one. I’m just that good,” I step in closer to them and breathe them in, “It's the flannel I think,” I reach out and rub the lapel between my fingers. Kris is staring at my mouth as they take a deep breath. I take the last swallow of my drink. They reach for my hand. Now we’re intertwined. They’re so warm.

“Wanna get another one?”

“Yes, sir,” I say as I toss my cup. Kris gives me another award-winning smile.

They step out and lead us back into the bar. The crowd parts for us to make a runway as we reach the bar.

“What are you drinking?” He says as he lets go of my long fingers to grab his wallet.

“Tequila sour. That’s my drink“

“Sounds good.”

“Yes it is, you can have some of mine if you want.”

“Thank you, miss. Wait actually, what are your pronouns?”

“Oh, I’m she/her. What are yours?”

“ They/them. Sometimes I like He/Him but I’m partial to Them.”

“Gotcha, that’s good to know.”

“What can I get you guys?” the bartender leans over the counter looking back and forth at us.

Kris takes the lead, ”Can we get, one tequila sour and one 805 please?”

I pull out the wad of cash stuffed into my cigarette pack.

“I got this one,” Kris reaches out and taps his index finger on my hand.

“Really? You don’t have to,” I say breathy and damsel-like. I love a gentleman.

“I know I don’t. I want to pay for your drink.”

“Well, I want to pay for yours. Is that ok?” I lean over closer to Kris. They smile a giggle of surprise.

“Yeah that’s ok,” they laugh again like they can’t control themself, “You can pay for me and I’ll pay for you. You’re funny.” The bartender comes back with two cold plastic cups.

“Together or separate?”

“Separate,” we say in unison, eyes locked on each other.

“Eight for the tequila, six for the beer.” We shuffle out our bills and hand them to the bro bartender.

“Thank you,” Kris says as I say, “Thanks, dude.” We turn back to face each other and my skin is tingling.

“And thank you, Kris.”

“No, no thank you,” We cheers, teeth glistening under the fluorescent lights. They giggle at me as they take a sip.

“What’s so funny?”

“That’s the gayest thing I’ve done all day!”

“Ha! You’re absolutely right, paying for each other’s drinks is so frikken gay!” We laugh together at the bar and for a moment I feel like I could actually transform into a ball of light.

Someone bumps into Kris from behind. I instinctively reach for their shoulder and pull them into me. We’re chest to chest. I look over their shoulder to give the guy a rude look.

“You cool?” I say very protective-like.

They wrap their arm around my waist and pull me in even closer, “Definitely.”

We are almost grinning into each other's mouths. My body erupts in a chill that starts between my legs. I can’t help it as I twitch in their arm from excitement. They lean against my cheek and purr, “Should we get on the dance floor?” I’m radiating heat and lust. All I can do is nod and smile, officially smitten by this adorable creature.

Kris slides their hand up my naked back and glides around to linger on my arm. I slide my forearm down their side and our hands slip to meet. We intertwine our fingers and they give me a big squeeze, leading me to the dance floor as the band gets started. Suddenly there's a loud drumbeat from the stage. Something great is beginning at all corners of this bar.

“Hey everyone, we’re Boats on the Moon. Thanks for coming out. We-” Meeka’s voice fades out in my ears. All I can focus on is Kris’s hand. We run our hands up and down tickling each other's palms. We’re rubbing together like hot magnets. I lift the plastic cup to my lips and take a long pull. They lean into me again and lips graze my neck. I feel Kris stretch to their tiptoes to reach my ear, “Thirsty?” they tease.

My neck turned across his face to smooth into their soft cheek, “I want both my hands-free.” Their lips burrow into my neck. I hold my cheek to theirs and squeeze their hand in encouragement. They kiss me hard in the crook of my neck. My eyelids flutter.

“This song is called Lost Lunatic! 1 2 3 4!”

Kris kisses me again and I nearly drop my drink. I move my head off their cheek and smirk. They look at me with hungry eyes “Good idea.” Kris let’s go of my hand and takes a step back to chug their beer.

“Ha!” I do the same with my tequila. Plastic bottoms almost vertical, we chug in haste trying not to break eye contact. Freezing alcohol slides down our chins as we giggle inside our cups. I almost choke. Kris sticks out his hand to me so we can hold hands while we gulp. Are you my protector baby? Kris finishes first as the bass line goes insane. They throw their empty in the bin behind me. They take my waist in both hands. I feel so ready, I arch my back to get the last sweet sip. Drums are heavy riffing leading up to an incredible beat drop. I can feel it. I can feel it all. Kris takes the cup from me but never leaves my eyes. They toss the cup as the stage erupts.

“Red skies scare meee! I’m in love with blue!” Meeka slams on her guitar.

I throw my arms around Kris’s neck and they pull me so fast our lips crash together with heat. The softest lips press against mine, our noses gently pass each other. His hands reach under my tube top and hold my back with flat palms. I hold their neck with one hand while the other grips onto their soft mane. The band rages behind us as our torsos glue together. I part my mouth and Kris slips me a little tongue. We slow it down a bit. Their slender fingers crawl up my back. I lick their tongue with a long flick. I can feel they like that as they claw down my back with a long hard decline. The electricity from my back makes me grab their neck even harder. I close my mouth and give them a long still kiss. I pull back from their lips feeling weightless. I open my eyes and I see that lovely smile again.

“Are you fucking real?” I utter without thought. Kris throws their head back with laughter. I can barely hear it as the breakdown is revving up. Meeka shouts, “Don’t forget me or I’ll erupt! Broken hearts can’t learn to adjust!”

“Yes miss, I’m real,” Kris rubs and roams around my back again. I’m feeling bolder by the second. I reach behind me and take their hand. Moving it to my stomach. I look into their eyes and guide their fingers to my neck. They raise an eyebrow as if to say ‘Oh you want it like that?’ Reading my partner's mind, I tilt my head back, let go and nod with an undeniable ‘Yes please.’ They use their other hand to pull me into them so tightly. Kris squeezes my neck and I’m floating. A low moan shoots out of my throat. The drums are shaking the dewey walls of the bar. I peer down at them and the next second their lips are on mine. Rough and wet.

I can’t fucking breathe and it's making me wet. I can feel the pulse of my pussy radiating in my toes. My body rocks and I sway to my left with a hard kiss trying to press every part of my body into theirs. Kris grabs onto my ass for support. We sway upright as I hop up and wrap a leg around their backside. The band rages with a low drum beat then goes quiet. Applause and stomps shake Milk Bar.

Shit, there are two shows going on in this place. This song isn’t playing just for us. I break the kiss with a hand still at my throat. Opening my eyes I let go, “Holy shit.” The crowd claps and Kris lets go of my neck gently. I’m not letting them go for a second. I let my head scan the crowded bar. Some meathead dudes catch my eye as they stare and whisper. An emo queen and her friend look over their shoulder. “Damn, I forgot where I was for a second.”

Kris pulls me closer and sways us slowly, “Let them look.”

I put my arms on their shoulders again, “You’re fucking cute,” I kiss them again with a quick one. Onstage Meeka’s voice booms from the speakers, “Thank you, thank you. This next one is for all the one-night stands. The short flame lovers and losers. 1 2 3 4!”

I laugh a bit and whisper in their ear, “Is she talking to us?”

Kris rubs my back, hugging and swaying so closely, “Absolutely not. One night would not be enough,” running their hands up my sides, grazing my temples, and tickling my cheek with a smooth thumb.

“Can we get out of here? You think Meeka will hate us?”

“We definitely have her blessing.”

I turn around and she’s staring right at us. I smile like a guilty, horny sprite. She gives me the nod as her hand plunges down her guitar. An absolute blessing, “Let's go.”

“You lead the way lovely.”

Somewhere in the crowd, I hear a shout, “Kris, wait!”

Oh damn, here we fucking go.

FIN