Beast Boyfriend: Scratch (complete)

The Pitfall is one of those ingrained institutions, a place where dreams are made, careers are started, and tragic romances blossom. For you, it’s simply a job. You started working at Pitfall directly out of school, hoping to get a job somewhere in management, and instead getting thrust into the glamorous lifestyle of bartending. For some reason they much prefer an edgy bartender to an educated manager. The current events coordinator is the owner’s son, a dipshit of a human being who thinks ordering a martini with three olives is class and that EDM DJs are the only way to live. 

Needless to say, attendance is down at Pitfall, and for the first time in a long while the bar closes early due to inactivity. You are grateful for the time off - not that you have anything against the music, it’s just that it all starts to sound the same after the tenth DJ or so. You go outside into the back alley that leads to the employee parking lot. You sigh, staring up at the sky and seeing that the moon is full.

“Hi, excuse me?” A rumbling voice shakes you from your poetic thoughts.

You jump, staring straight ahead at a figure twice your size. You reach into your pocket for your keys, which are adorned with pepper spray and a little keychain that looks like a cat, but can be used for stabbing.

“Sorry. I luh-” he holds his hand up defensively. “I was supposed to have a meeting earlier with, uhm… I think his name was Fegane?”

Still holding your keys, you relax a little. “He left as soon as the doors opened.”

“I knew it.” The large shape huffs, and he kicks the wall. “I was hoping he was going to come out at some point, but apparently-” He kicks a trashcan, which rolls towards you. “Sorry, not your problem.”

“Fegane is a dick.” You cautiously step forward. “What were you meeting him about?”

In the moonlight you see that large shape has a wild mane of fluffy hair. “My band is wanting to play at Pitfall.”

“Band?” you gasp excitedly. “Like an actual band? Like with drums and guitars and shit?”

“I mean, we have all of those things, but we just use them for props while we beat on pots and pans with our moms’ wooden spoons.” His voice is soft and flirty, a bit teasing.

“It’s better than what we’ve been getting.” You then huff. “That also means Fegane probably won’t give a shit. He thinks that EDM is going to be the wave of the future in music forever.”

“I’ve noticed,” he chuckles. “I’m Scratch, by the way.” He extends his huge hand out to you.

“Scratch,” you chuckle. His hand feels leathery and rough on the palm, while the back has the texture of thick velvet. “Is that your real name, or a fake to protect your identity.”

“Childhood nickname, and a bit of the former.” Scratch chuckles. “What about you?”

You nod towards the building. “Bartender,” you murmur. “Also plotting a violent coup to get Fegane’s job.”

“How violent?” Scratch chuckles.

You smile to yourself, barely able to see this behemoth of a man, but already feeling drawn him. “I’m thinking something Napoleon in approach.”

“You can do better,” Scratch chuckles. “Something more like Vlad Tepes. You’re violent but the people still like you.”

You let out a laugh that’s more feminine than your usual guffaw. “I do like castles.”

Scratch takes something from his jacket, and you get a whiff of spicy cologne. “Here,” he offers a jewel case. “I know CDs are old-fashioned, but aside from giving you my only jump drive, this is all I’ve got to prove my band is real.”

“You could have pointed me to a webpage,” you tease. You try to see the cover in the moonlight, but the best you get is the name. “Robot Wizard?” You tilt your head up. “Are you twelve?”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you listen. You think the world was onboard with Fleetwood Mac as a band name? You think Chumbawumba flew right away?” He laughs. “Seriously, maybe if you play this during prep or something the dipshit will take notice.”

“Maybe I will.” You reach for your phone. “You got a number or anything I can call you? You know? Just in case.”

Scratch flips a card from between his fingers. “Another old-fashioned relic.” He hands it down to you. “I appreciate the help. Should I wish you luck with your bloody coup?”

“Nah, I don’t need luck.” You tuck the card into your pocket. 

When you get to your car, you put the CD in. Right away the music is a breath of fresh air. It sounds classically inspired, with tinges of eighties hair metal, and a few magical elements of its own. By the time you get home, you already have one of their songs stuck in your head.

After a shower, you go to your computer, looking the band up. You find their webpage, as well as several videos of their live performances. You see Scratch clearly for the first time, no longer a shadowy shape in the moonlight. He’s massive for sure, wielding a double fret bass that’s painted neon blue, or playing an electric upright bass with a clear body. His hair is really a mane, honey-colored blonde with streaks of black. His eyes are sharp and a vivid yellow. His features are leonid, with sharp cheekbones and a flat, black nose. 

You start compiling things, creating a well-organized email to send to your boss. Not Fegane, but his father. You know you might be stepping on toes, but at this point it isn’t a concern. If this pisses Fegane off, it isn’t the end of the world. You can go bartend anywhere you want, lord knows you’ve had offers, you just loved Pitfall for what it represents. If Fegane is intent on turning it into a run-of-the-mill dance club, that’s his prerogative. You can’t watch Pitfall become another, well, pitfall. 

The next evening as you go in to work, you catch an argument happening in the alleyway. Fegane is huffing and puffing away on his cellphone. He is smoking a cigarette like it’s his last, and his face is red and blotchy.

“Well, fuck you then, too!” He glares at you. “Just fucking great!”

“A lot of things are,” you say with a shrug. “Which great thing are you mad at?”

“My act for tonight canceled!” he screeches. “I have them booked for three nights! What the fuck am I going to do?”

You reach into your jacket pocket and find Scratch’s card. You quickly hold it out to Fegane. “This band is really good. They’re getting popular online too, so even if they make a last-minute post, we can fill the place.”

“What do they play?” Fegane grimaces. 

“It’s good, trust me.” You take the card back. “I can handle them getting here if you want. You seem frazzled.” You start your coup then and there. “Since it’s last-minute, I can tag on an extra hundred for each band member to the usual first-time price.”

“Fine,” Fegane reaches for another cigarette. “I don’t give a shit. Just get them here or my dad will murder me.”

You smirk, pleased with yourself for taking advantage of him in his vulnerable hour. You go inside and called in an extra bartender for the night, then ring up Scratch.

“Robot Wizard hotline, how may I help you?” Scratch yawned into the phone.

“How soon can you get the band to Pitfall?” you ask.

Scratch is silent for a moment. “Vlad Tepes?”

You giggle softly. “Yeah, it’s me. The DJ that was hired for the rest of the weekend canceled,” you say, trying to hold in your excitement. “If you can make it down here, the gig is yours with an extra hundred per band member for the late notice.”

“We’ll be there in an hour,” Scratch chuckles.

You meet the band at the back, helping them to unload and showing them around before the stage crew helps them set up.

Scratch lingers behind, looking at you with a smile on his face. “I owe you one.”

You shrug. “Just make these next three nights the best possible. Prove Fegane wrong and prove me right.”

Scratch winks. “You got it, Tepes.”

The club is sparse at first, populated by people who come just to get out or escape work. Once Robot Wizard starts playing though, more people start coming. Word of mouth spreads, and by the end of the evening the customers have doubled. 

The next evening there is a line forming at the door, and you’ve not felt this excited in a long time. Before everything starts, you head towards the back to check on the band, and see Scratch in the hallway.

“There you are. How is it looking?” he asks excitedly. 

“I think we’ll have more than last night,” you chuckle. 

Scratch sighs. “Good. I always get nervous before a gig.” He looks you over and licks at the corner of his mouth. “How about you, Tepes?”

“It’s a start,” you chuckle. “We’ll see how this coup goes.”

Scratch nods. “Well, bloody or not, maybe afterwards I can thank you properly for this.” He chuckles nervously and rubs at his neck. “Maybe go get some food or a movie.” 

You smile. “Sure. I’d like that.”

The night goes off without a hitch, and you grow even more hopeful for the final show. The way things have gone, you expect Pitfall to have to turn people away. 

That afternoon you get a phone call from your boss - your real boss, Fegane’s father. He says that Fegane is taking a ‘break’ and that he needs someone to replace him for a while. You readily accept as he congratulates you on finding Robot Wizard.

You hire Robot Wizard for another weekend and start taking interviews with other bands. Things get busy real fast, but you keep talking with Scratch. You enjoy your flirty conversations with him and are eager to eventually take up his offer of a date.

One day, while you’re working late in your office there is a knock on the door. You look up to see Scratch leaning in the doorway.

“Oh,” you gasp with a smile on your face. “Hello there.”

“Long time no see, Tepes.” He saunters in and holds up a bag. “Have you eaten yet?”

You bite your cheek to keep your smile in check. “I’ve had a granola bar from the breakroom.” You stand up from the desk. 

“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Scratch smirks. He comes towards you and sets the bag down. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got Chinese takeout.”

“You’re lucky, that’s my favorite,” you say as you walk towards him.

“I owe you big time.” His voice becomes low and dark. “I dunno if greasy Chinese food will be enough.” His bright eyes flick over you and he groans.

“Depends on how greasy.” You reach into the bag, taking out a container of egg rolls. “But if you wanna go eye for an eye on this, you’re off to a good start.” You take a bite and moan softly.

Scratch grabs the small of your back and pulls you in close. “Do you mind if I play with my food a little?”

You gulp down your bite, gazing up at him with slack-jawed surprise. “I, uh-” You offer up the eggroll. “How so?”

Scratch takes a bit and chews. He grins down at you, licking his tongue across his teeth. “The best way I know how.”

He leads you back to your office chair and makes you sit down. He then kneels before you, grabbing your hips and pulling them forward. Scratch wiggles you out of your jeans and tosses them aside. He pets your legs, gently squeezing his large mitts around your thighs before easing them open.

“I usually don’t get thanked this way,” you chuckle nervously. Your face is burning hot and you can feel it pooling down to your groin. 

“Well, it’s not my usual way of saying thanks.” Scratch smirks up at you as his fingers rub to your panties. “But for you, I wanted to go above and beyond.”

You chomp down on your bottom lip as his fingers sink into your plump mound. The front of your panties start to grow damp as Scratch kisses your belly and chest. He purrs as he nuzzles between your breasts, placing kisses over the lace of your bra.

“So, Tepes,” he moans, “mind if I have a taste?”

Your voice squeaks, trapped in your throat. You nod eagerly as Scratch’s smile blossoms into a seductive grin. “You’re too kind.” He pushes your panties aside, exposing your warm, wet slit. He groans, bringing your hips forward again. He sinks between your thighs, kissing and nibbling until his tongue presses against you.

“Oh, wow,” you moan. You reach up, grabbing the back of your chair. “Oh my,” you sigh as his tongue goes deeper. His low snarls and moans vibrate through your body and into every joint. Your toes curl and you roll your hips. His tongue pushes in deep, swirling inside before dancing over your clit.

Scratch’s eyes flick up to you and he rises slightly. His finger sinks inside you while his thumb rubs at your clit. You twitch and gasp while he tugs down your bra, exposing your soft breasts. He kisses them, biting the nipples before sucking on one. You squeeze around his hand, gasping for breath until he kisses you.

“You know how you can thank me?” you pant, cupping his handsome face between your palms.

“How’s that?” Scratch smirks.

You stand up, pushing your panties to your knees, and you bend over the desk. You reach back, touching yourself between your legs. “I hope this is hint enough.”

Scratch chuckles as he moves behind you. “I like how subtle you are.” He drops his pants, and then you feel something hot against your ass. You bite your lip, feeling the velvety texture of his shaft grind against you. He feels big, but you could be hopeful. It isn’t until he pushes at your folds that you can feel his girth. You let out a strange sound as he eases his way inside. 

“What? No good?” Scratch teases as he digs his fingers into your hips. He pulls out, then slips inside again, going a bit deeper. “Do I need to try harder?”

You whimper, pressing your cheek to the desk. “Don’t tease.”

“Hm? What’s that?” He pulls up and rubs against your thigh. 

You grunt and sit up again. “Put it back!”

“My, my,” Scratch purrs, slipping himself along your wetness. “Put it where?”

You glare back at him. “Back inside me!” you huff at him. “Fuck me and stop teasing me!” You thrust back against him, and he pops inside. Then you move, pushing back against him. You thrust yourself onto him, taking control of the situation. You gasp and grunt, feeling yourself drip around his shaft.

Scratch reaches around you, his fingers buried in your folds to find your clit. You let out a cry, going still for a moment as a flash of heat courses through your body. Scratch then starts moving, going slow at first. He presses in, then pulls back until he’s almost out. It’s feels like slow torture, but so good. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” Scratch snarls. “But I love a mess.”

You squeeze around him, hoping to urge him forward. “You feel so good,” you moan. “You’re making the mess.”

Scratch chuckles, grinding himself deep. “I’m glad. And no worries, I’ll take responsibility.” He pulls out then shoves back in hard. He grabs hold of you, going like a rapid piston. You cry out, jiggling and shuddering under his direct attention. He snarls and pants, leaning over so his raspy voice is right in your ear. His sharp teeth drag along your neck, nipping your shoulder before he pants again.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he growls. “Tell me where you want me.”

You’re almost at the edge yourself, barely able to think, let alone command him where to cum. You grunt, taking down a big breath. “Don’t stop,” you growl. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Scratch bites the nape of your neck, rutting harder inside you. His movements are fast and shallow, rubbing a spot inside you that causes your to go flat against the desk. You tremble, toes curling, and body tensing as you release. Scratch snarls, flooding you. The heat is intense but you spasm again from the sensation.

After a few moments, you lay on the floor, and resume eating the Chinese takeout as your head rests on Scratch’s arm.

“That was nice,” Scratch sighs. “Wasn’t it?”

` You set the takeout box aside and kiss him. “I can’t wait for another round.”

Scratch grins, rubbing his hand down your back. “I was hoping for a proper date before we exchanged pleasantries again,” he chuckles.

You kiss down his chest. “If you insist,” you murmur. “I have wine at my place.”

Scratch groans. “Got any good movies, then?” He sits up from the floor. “I’ll consider a glass of wine and a good movie a date.”

You slip into his lap, kissing him as his hands rub up and down your back. “Sounds good to me.” You kiss him, then chuckle. “I’ll confess, I might have a hard time keeping my hands off you.”

Scratch winks. “That’s how I like to watch my movies.” He reaches out and hands you your jeans back. “I hope you have a big shower. I did promise to clean up my messes.”

You bite your lip. “I’ve got an old clawfoot bathtub.”

“Even better.” Scratch offers his hand to you once he stands. “I think we’ve got a good thing started.”