Smutklok

Barklok // Pickles X Non-Binary AFAB Reader

It was 1 AM, and you were itching to go home. At Ozzy's Bar, the lights flashed uncomfortably and burned your sensitive eyes. Drunk men kept trying to grab your ass, and Murderface kept trying to kiss you. You were sick of the smell of cigars and the shitty pop-punk band that was playing over the speakers. Toki and Skwisgaar had run off to the bathroom to puke, and Nathan was arguing with the bartender.

You leaned on the bar with a bottle of henny in your grip, your eyes dark as a sigh escaped your lips. Pickles sat next to you, downing his 10th shot of vodka, and he couldn't help but notice your sullen expression. "Dood," he said between burps. "What's up with you? Yer bein' a total downer."

"I hate it here. This shit is totally watered down, too." You threw your bottle on the ground and were disappointed when it simply bounced without shattering. Pickles looked around and said, "E'ryone's busy right now, wanna ditch?"

"That would be ideal." The two of you stood up from the bar and began your walk out. As you tried to leave though, a fat man who had had a little too much to drink tried to grope you, a vile smirk plastered on his face. "Hi, cutie, wanna go home with me tonight?" Before the man could spew one more word, Pickles head-butted him and knocked him out cold. Blood dripped from the fat man's nose and his friends stood up to defend him, each bearing various makeshift weapons. Lead pipes, switchblades, the whole shebang. Before you could react, Pickles grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the bar's front doors. You struggled to keep up with his speed as he dragged you down the dark streets.

The two of you finally reached an alley that you could hide in, leaning against a wall and panting as you watched the four angry men run by without seeing you. "Dude," you struggled to say between breaths. "Thank you."

"Yeh, it's no problem. You need to start carrying a weapon around."

"I got a deagle coming in the mail."

"A what?"

"A dessert eagle pistol. I'll show you when I get it."

"Aye, cool. I'm gonna call Offdenson and have 'im send a taxi."

After a short phone call, wait, and taxi ride, you and Pickles arrived safely at Mordhaus. You showered off the touches of the creeps from the bar, shivering under the warm water, and grabbed a towel to dry off. With one towel around your chest and one drying your hair, you stepped out into your room to find your nightclothes. However, as you were rummaging through your drawers, your door was pushed open, followed by the smell of beer and vodka.

Your head shot up as your eyes met your intruder, and you both just stared at each other awkwardly. "Um..." you muttered.

Pickles stared at you in disbelief. To the band, you were just one of their friends who they assumed was a guy, and never bothered to question your voice cracks or flirtatious behavior. Seeing you wrapped in a towel blew Pickles' mind. "Uh..."He continued to stare in shock, frozen in place with his jaw practically on the floor.

You quickly shot up to cover your chest and said, "It- It's not what it looks like. I can explain." With all of his energy, Pickles moved himself to sit on your bed, a hand over his mouth. Me muttered to himself, "What in the fresh hell is going on..."

You sighed deeply and sat next to him, holding your towel around yourself so it didn't slip. "Look, uh... you guys... never asked." Pickles remained silent, refusing to make eye contact. You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out how to word what you said next. "Can you just... look at me?"

"If I look at you I won't be able to control myself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You expected Pickles to explain himself, but instead he shot up and threw his hands in the air with a smile. "YES!!!" He yelled. "I'M NOT GAY!!!"