More Than Magic (World of Darkness, m/m/m)

Matthew clutched his tumbler a little too hard as he stared out at the crowd. A loud bass beat filled the air, shaking the bare earth with the force of the sound. The lyrics were lost in the sheer volume, but it was the melody that they were interested in — primal, tribal, invigorating. It was also very, very loud. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t shown up. Well, not really a wonder. Someone had to have paid them off. One of the werewolves or their kin likely had that kind of connection. Maybe Stalks-the-Night. He wouldn’t put it past the surly Alpha to have an in both with the police and the local underworld. Matthew narrowed his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of Stalks in the crowd but there were too many bodies and it was hard to tell one naked form from another.

A thin, wiry frame slumped against the makeshift bar next to Matthew. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever seen who managed to be melancholy and brooding at an orgy.”

He glanced over, straight into a sweaty, well-defined six-pack of abs and then quickly looked away. Matthew was far too overdressed for this crowd. “Sorry to be such a buzzkill. I’d leave if I could, but…” Matthew waved a hand at the air above them. Not that Barks-at-the-Moon could see the magic buzzing around them, swirling in the air like a slow-moving hurricane, but he was familiar enough with occult matters — or at least those who dealt with them — to get the idea.

Barks shrugged, an easy move that made his entire chest ripple. Matthew’s mouth watered and he took a long pull from his drink. He already had one unattainable crush on someone in the pack, he didn’t need another. “I’m sure the Theurges can handle it.”